Day Three - Southern Wyoming to the Teton Range

Please click on the photos to enlarge and feel free to save any you like. The captions are below the photos.

It was good to arrive in Cheyenne when the restaurants were open and also to be able to eat dinner at a sane hour. For some reason I did not sleep well and that worried me as I got myself together for the day that would take me across southern Wyoming up to the Teton range and the across into Idaho.

I was on the road before sunrise and climbed up to the highest point on interstate 80 just east of Laramie. There is a rest stop there and I popped in hoping to find a map of Wyoming. I was out of luck so I continued on and stopped in Laramie for gas and a map. Alas, they were out of Wyoming maps so I had to make do with my 50 state map that rides in the trunk. What I was looking for was a one-state map that I could put in my tank bag so that I would not have to pull over and dig into the trunk in order to figure out where I was. Oh well, onwards and upwards as my friend JRP would say!

I jumped back on the freeway and covered the one hundred miles to Rawlins without issue. Sunrise is my favorite part of the day and it was neat to see the plains of south eastern Wyoming take shape as the rays of the sun reddened the eastern sky.

The terrain was changing from the rolling plains of western Nebraska to a high plains dotted with hillocks. In the distant south I could see the outline of mountains in Colorado and to the north were the Laramie Mountains. Off the freeway at Rawlins I filled the tank for the trip up to the Teton Range. As I was finishing off I saw something I have not seen for many, many years; a woman in a white SUV popped the hood and checked the oil and all the other fluids – how sexy is THAT!?!?

I like to get a good part of the day done before I stop for breakfast and just as I was clearing Rawlins I spotted an old-style stainless or aluminum diner just off route 287 on the north side of town. I stopped in for a hearty breakfast of hash browns, a couple of eggs over easy, sausage patties and wheat toast. As I sat at the counter watching the cook fill orders I quietly drank my first coffee of the day as I listened to what appeared to be a regular make a love connection with the waitress. His wife had left him and he was more than a little bitter and looking for a little love in the world. The waitress welcomed the attention and handed him her cell phone, instructing him to put his number in there so that she could call him when she got off work. Hopefully whatever connection they make will be lasting and loving.

The couple sitting next to me had moved from Montana to a little town about seventy miles south of Rawlins. They had lived in Lakeside on Flat Head Lake in Montana but left because they got sick of the tourists. I will be in Kalispell, Montana in a couple of days and they were pretty thrilled to learn of that; they told me to eat at the Knead Cafe or something so I will look it up when I get there. The husband asked a few questions about my riding gear and after answering them and figuring he had to be a rider, asked him if and what he rode. It turns out he had four bikes and rode as much as he could. They left just before me but as I walked to the bike I saw them in their Honda Pilot and he stopped to say that from the front the bike looked kind of small but he had taken a look from the side and said it was huge. He said, “Now, THAT’S a maCHINE!” ...... about as high a complement as you can get from a fellow rider.


This is the first photo I took of a hill just north of Rawlins along route 287


I had been warned that the plains of southern Montana would bore me to tears but heading north out of Rawlins I had the Shirley Mountains off to the east to enjoy as I headed towards my first crossing of the continental divide on this trip. I was in the high plains but there were buttes scattered here and there and I would occasionally sight an antelope grazing on damp morning grass.

Ah, the grass. It is pretty featureless but it has a scent all its own that is somewhere between half-dried hay and straw. As the dew surrenders to the rising sun the vaporizing dew wafts the delicate scent of the high-plains grass into the gentle breeze.

These are the Shirley Mountans near Muddy Gap, Wyoming. The highest point is Mount Ferris at 10,037 feet in elevation.

After crossing the continental divide west of Ferris Mountain, elevation 10,037 feet, I almost missed my turn at Muddy Gap as it was only marked by a small gas station where I was expecting a little town.

On up into Lander 82 miles down the road I passed through more high plains dotted with buttes and empty valleys. A couple on a huge V-Twin scared the living daylights out of me when they thundered past me. I normally don’t get passed when I am off the freeway, much less, by a thumper! I was pegged at ten over and being in no mood to earn a merit award from the local sheriff I let them go about their way. There were no challenging curves on the road so there was no incentive to give chase; any idiot can ride a bike fast on a straight road – it is the curves that sort the riders out.

The next town was Lander and it was much larger than I imagined. There had to be a dozen stop lights and even what would pass for a mall. Lander is on the southern edge of the Wind River Indian Reservation and must be the step-off point for a lot of hiking and camping areas as the predominance of 4x4 vehicles loaded with camping gear and river craft as well as the fit-looking and tanned pedestrians in hiking boots and gear would suggest.

The climb up from Lander to Dubois was nice with the Wind River Range of the Rocky Mountains to the south on my left and the Absaroka Range to my right. Dubois is nestled in a green and highly irrigated valley and, except for the red rocks decorating the slopes to the north, is pretty unremarkable.

Just as I was leaving town I spotted a sign pointing the way to a scenic overlook. Being ahead of schedule I decided to take the detour. When you travel along river valleys you really do not get a good feel of the area because, though you get to enjoy the slopes on either side, you really do not see much.

It was a dirt road and as I climbed up the surface, which was about a 10% – 12% grade turned to a mixture of dirt and loose gravel. Hmm, I was on street tires, on a street bike on a surface for which neither the bike nor the tires were designed or suited. PLUS on a very steep incline ..... how do you spell recipe-for-disaster?!?!

I picked my way up a mile and a half to a plateau that overlooked Dubois and the Wind River valley to the north. The dicey trip up was worth the view but I dreaded the ride back down. It was a slow an painstaking trip back down with a couple of close calls, one where the ABS kicked in on the rear wheel and another when the front wheel shifted about three or four inches to the left as it rolled on a large stone as I negotiated a hairpin turn. Both of those are scary because you are in motion, albeit slow, but in motion nonetheless on a machine weighing over 500 pounds, rolling down hill, you can’t hit the front brake because that would drop you and when you put your feet down you cannot get good traction because your feet are rolling about on the gravel and one leg is higher than the other because the road surface is not flat! Somehow I kept it upright but when I got back to the pavement I was a sea of adrenaline! Westward ho!

That hair-brained decision to go to the top yielded this beautiful photo of the Wind River valley north of Dubois, WY

To the north of the valley you can see layers of multi-colored rocks exposed by millions of years of erosion.

This is a terrible photo of a butte in the Absaroka Range north of Dubois

I was zipping along when I noticed the turn-off to the Togwotee Pass scenic overlook. I executed a quick u-turn and boy was I happy I did so. The overlook offered a breathtaking view of the entire Teton Range about thirty miles to the west.

I also took the opportunity to use the facilities which, like any other park service WC, was a pit latrine. Boys use urine to write in snow and so it was natural that as I vacated my bladder I had occasion to invent a new game – sprinkle the fly. It was one quick little bugger!!

This was my first view of the Teton Range of mountains from the Togwotee pass along 287. Here, thirty miles away you have the benefit of seeing the entire range and it is truly awe inspiring. The unfortunate thing about photos is they cannot convey scale and this one fails miserably.

A shot with the sign and the mountains in the background

The Teton Range is a magnificent set of peaks rising up to the west of the Snake River valley. The photos below tell the story but as beautiful as they are, they do not convey the scale of the mountains.

There's that guy again. Is that one bright vest or what!!??

Zoom in for reference if you want to learn the names of the peaks in the Teton Range.

This is Snake River with Grand Teton peak in the background

Each of the photos above speaks for itself and beautiful as they are, you really have to be there to appreciate the scale and beauty of this mountain range.

To the south end of the range there is Jackson Wyoming. I think this is the fashion capital of the old west. The town is a truly bustling metropolis. There are all sorts of high-end boutique stores that will provide the perfect western attire, cafe’s are a dime-a-dozen as are expensive SUV’s. The sidewalks and crosswalks were a sea of people seemingly more determined to make their way to the next store than to actually get out and see the beauty that nature provides for free. A number of places have entrances that are arches made of antlers and many restaurants have beautiful and shiny Harley Davidson’s sparkling in the sun. My bug-splattered import seemed a little out of place – a practical sore thumb in a sea of fashion.

After leaving that congested mess I headed up to the Teton Pass, elevation 8,431 feet, leaving the traffic of the valley behind. On the Idaho side, I turned south on a wonderfully curvy route 31 for a spirited sprint to route 26 which took me into Idaho Falls, my home for the night.

This is a view of Jackson from the Teton pass way up from 8,431 feet.

I found my hotel without a problem and after I checked in and was preparing to move my motorcycle from the entrance to a parking spot a couple of Harley’s with Utah plates pulled in – one was a black chopped Road King and the other was an Ultra Glide with a gorgeous blue and white custom paint job and an equally, if not more, gorgeous rider. She sported a smile that told of happy trails on the day. They were a long way from home and each was riding with sleeveless tee shirts. Neither bike had saddle bags and the only luggage each had was a little satchel on the passenger seat – enough for a change of underwear and a toothbrush! Nice way to travel but you would have to be one who slept in because the days start out in the low 50’s this time of year and with neither bike having either windshield or fairing an early morning ride with nothing more than a tank-top to provide wind protection would be out of the question. I think they would probably sleep in until late morning, grab brunch and then get on the road close to noon when the thermometer passed north of 80 degrees. They did look cool, though!

I used the 10% off at Applebee’s for a tasty rib dinner and then settled down for the night after checking on the route and weather for tomorrow – a ride up into Montana and then across into northern Idaho.