Great Divide (NOBO) - Day #25 Grassy Lake, WY to Henrys Lake, ID

Great Divide (NOBO) - Day #25

June 22, 2022

Grassy Lake, WY to Henrys Lake, ID - 88 Miles

Start 7:16 AM Finish 7:50 PM

Total Duration 12:34

Moving Time 8:49

Stopped Time 3:45

Ascent 3,980 Feet

Descent 4,679 Feet

Tour Total 1,847 Miles

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/94283914

When camping on these bike tours, usually at night I can hear something; a highway, a plane, something. Last night I couldn’t hear a peep. Complete silence is unfortunately rare in the lower forty-eight states. Last night I was really out there. I’ve managed to find remote locations a few times on this trip. The night at Cow Camp Springs was also perfectly quiet. I slept so well at Grassy Lake. It got cold during the night and was freezing by morning, leading the mosquitoes to vanish. There was condensation inside my tent when I awoke, and I started the ride wearing my socks, leg-warmers, down sweater, and jacket. My fingertips were frozen, but I needed them to operate my iPhone. I had a nice long uphill out of camp and the sun was still low, and coming through the trees. This was such a beautiful part of Wyoming. I finally couldn’t stand the chill, and pulled over to put on my long finger gloves.

There was a giant tree laying across the road, and then a nice downhill. I crossed over the Grassy Lake dam at 7:45 AM and encountered congestion on the road. A motorist in a white pick-up truck was coming in the opposite direction, right as a racer was trying to pass him. The motorist asked me if he could get through ahead, and I told him about the downed tree. He had a chainsaw, and asked about any closed gates. I couldn’t remember. I pulled over again to swap my long finger gloves for my short finger gloves and I plugged in a WFMU Duane Train file. Riding the narrow dirt road through the thick fir trees was my favorite section so far. It was incredible! The road surface was a little chunky, meandering alongside a cascading steam. Oh Wyoming! You made me work so hard, but look what you’ve given me on my last few days with you. Thank you!

I rode through a huge puddle and was passed by a racer. I then met south-bounder Roscoe from California, who had started in Whitefish on Thursday. He was headed to Antelope Wells. His front brake was shot and he needed to get to the bike shop in Pinedale.

I ran into Dylan and Sara, whom I had encountered twelve days ago while riding out of Salida. They were nearing the end of their big loop which began and ended in Pinedale. Neither of us could believe that we’d crossed paths twice. And then Don showed up. I had been trailing him since Slater. He had spent the night in the very same cabin there, a night before me. Don had crossed paths with Dylan and Sara coming out of Radium. We traded stories as we stripped down our layers and lathered ourselves with sunscreen. Conversation led to the Tour Divide race and the current leader, Sofiane. Don had gotten his bear spray from current third place racer Adrien. Dylan had placed 4th place in the 2015 Tour Divide. They mentioned that the monsoons had begun in New Mexico. I also learned that fifteen racers had to be evacuated by search and rescue teams at the beginning of the race. This route is acutely about striking a balance with the weather. Dylan and Sara, once again, were from Bozeman. Don had a place in Crested Butte, CO, and another place in Bozeman. Don had started at the Colorado border, because his family didn’t want him cycling on the highways in New Mexico. He had once been hit by a motorist. Don told me that he had gotten stuck in Atlantic City for two days because of a snow storm. He was doing fifty miles a day on average, and I had been a day behind him.

Down the road, Don and I ran into Cristy, a local from Rigby. She had done the Tour Divide a couple years ago. Don and I were then fortunate to spy a mama moose with her baby. It’s amazing how quickly these large animals can blend into the forest. A local day cyclist recommended the Squirrel Creek Elk Ranch & Inn. Under their sign was a skeleton riding a bike, and it was hard to miss. South-bounder Ken, from Toronto, had been stuck at the ranch for a couple of days. He had lost his pump, and was having difficulty getting a new one mailed to him. Amazon couldn’t find the place. I heard later through the Facebook group, that someone at the ranch had driven Ken to a bike shop in a nearby town.

For breakfast I ordered the Squirrel Classic with Eggs over-easy, hash browns, and a watermelon slice. I also ordered the biscuits and gravy, two glasses of orange juice, and a coffee. Another racer pulled in while we were sitting there. Don ordered a second helping of hash browns. I was ready to go, so I left.

I was now in Idaho, the tour’s fourth state, and there was no sign to document the crossing. This area was lush with grass fields, aspen trees, and flowing rivers. The view of the distant Tetons' back side was amazing.

County Road 4500 turned to gravel and became Robinson Creek Road. I rode down into a beautiful little valley carved by Robinson Creek where I passed a southbound divider. At the fork I stayed on the main route and not the Fish Creek Alternate. I took a left on Fish Creek Road which was paved, and I rode by an incredibly beautiful campground on the banks of the Warm River. Then I got on the Yellowstone Branchline Trail, which had been created from an old railroad right of way.

I began climbing up the edge of the valley following the blue cascading Warm River upstream. I finally reached the top of the ridge and found a large lovely meadow with a herd of cattle. I passed three southbound dividers riding together and I stopped for a moment to remove my socks. I passed another southbound divider and then another. I left the trail and took a right on County Road 150, aka Old Chick Creek Road. I was twelve miles from Island Park and it was 2 PM. I had gone fifty miles.

I passed three more dividers who were taking a break in the shade of a tree. They told me that they were trying to do a little over a hundred miles a day. They that said today had been one of their favorite days so far, and that the rain and the snow up north had really been really bad. And then I passed two more Tour Dividers. I then passed a female racer. By this point, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was riding besides high power lines and fir trees.

There were a lot of large brown puddles in the middle of the road and many of them I had no choice but to ride straight through. The weather plays such a major factor out here. The route crossed east, back over the old railroad line, and I found myself on County Road 117. The cinder was so deep in places that twice I almost wiped out. I rode through a puddle in the middle of the road that turned out to be three feet deep. My front compression sacks were completely submerged. I quickly jumped off my bike and lifted it up above the water level. We would later see how well those waterproof compression bags worked. Once again I had such an advantage wearing cycling sandals.

Island Park, population 286, was essentially a Sinclair station, with a restaurant and bar. I bought a Coke on ice, two packages of cashews, a large can of REPEL MAX with 40% DEET, a six pack of Old Faithful Ale by Grand Teton Brewing Company, and a bag of Fritos for later tonight. I also filled my water bottles. I was headed towards Red Rock campground where Gerda and Andre had stayed last night. They had made it to Lima today, and told me to stock up on water.

I left the highway and got on County Road 134A. I then got on gravel old Highway 191 and passed another Tour Divider and then another. One of the cans of beer sprang a leak. The aluminum cans were really thin and were tightly bungeed to my rear rack, where they were getting the full impact of every bump. I put the five remaining cans in my rear saddle bag with my food. Hopefully there wouldn't be any more leaks. In the midst of all of this, I missed a turn. This road was narrow dirt with lots of big puddles. Three more Tour Dividers passed me.

I was once again riding underneath the high power lines and went down the steepest descent I’d done yet. I heard a ping, and it sounded like a broken spoke. I checked and couldn’t find anything wrong. I then came to more lake-sized puddles that I had to hike-a-bike around. I took a left on County Road 059 which was paved with traffic markings. My fingers were crossed that no more cans of beer had punctured. This section on asphalt was smooth.

I came to a T where the Fish Creek Alternate Route reconnected with the main route. The pavement ended in Big Springs, no population listed and no services. I was on a flat surrounded by sage brush. There were ridges with snow-capped peaks to the west and north west. I could see a radio tower on one of the peaks. I crossed over a stream and the pavement recommenced. I was on N. Big Springs Loop Road. I passed a collection of houses in an area called Island Park Village, as I reconnected with US Highway 20.

I stopped at Subway for a twelve inch tuna foot-long and a Cherry Coke. As I was leaving I ran into Tour Divide race George who was looking for a hotel for the night. He described a really nice double track ahead, and told me that there were plenty of places where I could camp. I wouldn't need to pay to stay at the RV park. I had asphalt on Sawtelle Road aka County Road 024. I missed the turn-off for 455 and went straight up the hill towards Sawtelle Peak, over a mile off route. At least I had a nice downhill getting back to the route.

I came to a closed gate and the double track that George had told me about. Three south-bounders passed me. The sun was now behind the trees and the air was starting to get cool. Then I came to the closed gate on the other side. I noticed an RV camped in a turn-off on the side of the dirt road, and I decided to camp in the neighboring turn-off. I was bear conscious, and noticed that they had a dog.

I pulled in and, miraculously all five of my beers were still intact. I brought them over to a nearby stream and weighted them down with rocks in the cold water. Compared with last night there were very few mosquitoes. I set up my tent and hung a bear bag. The compression sacks had kept the water out, and both my sleeping bag and tent were dry. I retrieved my cold beers, and began editing today’s report. I even had phone and Internet service so that everything could be uploaded. A fine day for sure. Welcome to Idaho!