What a contrast with yesterday! America is so varied.  

But first I should report on last night in Spearfish. There was a classic car rally in the main street – about 100 massive American cars from the 1950s, mostly. Can’t say I liked any, but it was fun!

  
Dinner was yet more steak, in a really nice cafe in one of the oldest buildings in town – built early 1900s.

  
This morning we set off up the Spearfish Canyon – a spectacular quiet road up a winding, wooded gorge overhung with orange/yellow limestone cliffs (Cotswold stone).

   
 At the head of the canyon we had a second massive breakfast in another good cafe, only just over an hour since the first!

Then onwards and upwards. We passed some guys building a covered wooden bridge.

  
We were now back over 6000 feet and the scenery was alpine. Quite stunning high valleys with scattered farms, fast flowing streams and, away from the pasture, low density woods with a thick carpet of grass and beautiful wild flowers. I could live here!

In the tiny hamlet of Rochford there is a quirky saloon, Moonshine Gulch,  with a great atmosphere. We sat happily drinking and swapping cycling stories with the owner.

Next came a section I had been nervous about. The Micklesen Trail is an old rail line cutting right through the centre of the Black Hills, away from roads and the noisy motor bikes  that are everywhere. It looked fantastic. But could we ride the ‘crushed limestone surface – fat tyres advised’ on our road bikes? 

We did so … very slowly and gently. And what a reward! We rode across trestle bridges high above fast rivers, straight through a fabulous slate cliffed canyon, and through three tunnels. What’s more, we met other cyclists and basked in their adulation!

Altogether a fantastic day – a very short one, at only 60 miles, but another 5000 ft of ascent! Tomorrow we are off to Mount Rushmore. 

This morning had a dreamlike quality to it. One minute we were in Broadus, having a very light breakfast, around 6am, and the next minute we were having lunch at 1pm in Belle Forche, 95 miles further down the road! It was by no means flat, but the magic ingredient was the prairie wind that got up mid-morning, blowing at 15-20mph half across and half behind us. We were just gliding along the seemingly endless, rolling road across the vastness of the grasslands. Just one gas station in 95 miles! 
Broadus is a strange little place. There was a cinema – closed down – with 4 dolls tied to posts outside. Bizarre, and a bit sinister.  

 Luckily for us, although there was just one place to eat last night, it was quite good. The Powder River Stockman’s Club was tucked away in a modern shed on the edge of town. Stuffed cows everywhere – and the steak was fabulous. 

But nowhere much for breakfast, just yogurt and a bagel. So the midway gas station saved us with a bacon and egg roll and the usual litres and litres of coca cola, coffee and water. I reckon we are drinking about 5 litres a day each while on the road! It is still red hot – 34C this afternoon. 

Near the gas station was a closed down saloon – I’ll spare you the seedy slogans, but the best of the rest was ‘Good Beer: Lousy Food’. 

 
After the gas station we cycled out of Montana for the 3rd and final time, then briefly across the top right hand corner of Wyoming before entering South Dakota, our 5th state. The cafe in Belle Forche was family run and served us a delicious chicken salad (and the usual litres of liquids ……) 

For some time we had been able to see the Black Hills in the distance, and after Belle Forche we gradually climbed up towards the lovely town of Spearfish on their northern flank. We are back in regular tourist territory now. We have checked into a comfortable motel and have the promise of a good restaurant tonight and breakfast in the morning. Luxury! 111 miles completed comfortably by 3pm and still feeling fine – I must be dreaming! 

We are really moving Eastward now! The cycling day started early, as the sun came up. After about 15 miles we reached the site of the Battle of Little Big Horn, and Custer’s Last Stand. To be honest, the rolling grass covered hills looked much the same as all the others! Anyway, here it is.  

    
Next to the site was a gas station where we were supposed to get food – shops in Hardin not having been open and the hotel breakfast having been poor. But it was closed down. So we rode the next section on a packet of fig   rolls! 

The scenery was much better than I had expected. Rolling hills covered with long grass of a delicate green, fading to yellow, and stands of lodgepole pine. And broken up by sandstone crags and towers straight out of the Westerns. I hadn’t expected to like this hot, dry country so much, but it is beautiful. And hot. By 12.00 it was 97F and much hotter later.  

 We stopped at a gas station in Lame Deer, on a reservation. This is a different America again. Wild horses in the streets, broken roads, people on foot and in battered station wagons, filthy toilets – not quite Africa, but well on the way. There was a ‘hot deli’ where we got fried chicken and loads of water.

Back on the rolling road, the wild life spot for the day was a huge rattlesnake – luckily dead – by the road. We had been warned that they like to sun themselves on the shoulder of the road – where we ride! 

At Ashland we found ‘the best little bordello in Montana’ (so we are told!) and this is Tim outside – repeat, outside. 

 In the final 45 miles the trees thinned out and we entered rolling grasslands, still interspersed with sandy crags. From the top of what I thought was the final climb (it wasn’t) there was a long view eastwards.

  
So here we are, after 120 miles and nearly 5000 ft of ascent, in a good motel in the tiny hamlet of Broadus (actually the biggest place for 80 miles in any direction). Tomorrow should see us across the corner of Wyoming into South Dakota and the Black Hills.

Rather unexpectedly, this was another great days cycling – and a welcome short one. (The one downside of using hotels is that the spacing is not even, in these sparsely populated parts. Tomorrow has to be 120 miles).

A 17 mile cruise down the Interstate 90 frontage took us to a bike shop – Spoke Cycles – in Billings. We waited outside for them to open at 9.00.  And what a reception we got!  Bikes serviced (Tim’s squeak is gone – hurrah!), a replenishing of our supply of inner tubes, a peaked cycle cap for me to reduce the glare, and coffee and loads of encouragement – all for free! Well, a donation to the beer fund. Many thanks Sarah and Jason.  

  
Then on into town for food for the remaining, uninhabited 50 miles. I asked a group of old guys for directions to the supermarket – explaining that we needed food and sunscreen – and one went to fetch a bottle of sunscreem from his car and gave it to us. Thanks!

Outside the supermarket we were interviewed and photographed by a reporter from the Billings Gazette, who had popped in for donuts for the office. So fame at last! These shirts are brilliant! Here is the link to the story.

 (By the way, my favourite reaction to the ‘4000 miles 40 days’ slogan is ‘Oh my God, 1000 miles a day!’ We have had this many times!) If the story makes the paper I’ll post the link. 
Then we were out into real Wild West country. After a climb into some low hills there were huge views, followed by some canyons straight from the movies.  

   
This is cattle and horse country, but the stars of the show were the marmots, popping their heads from their holes and scurrying about, a bit like meercats. They were everywhere, but too small for me to photograph. I think Tim succeeded. So here are some horses.  

  We reached Hardin (70 miles) by 1.30 and managed to check in. So we are having a relaxing afternoon before the rigours ahead tomorrow. 

This was the final day of paradise – this time in the very high mountains north of Yellowstone. The Beartooth Highway doesn’t bother taking the lowest pass, it just heads straight up and over the summit plateau. The best way to describe the area is that it is like the Cairngorms on speed! Tundra on the plateau, huge snow patches, massive corries and cliffs, highountain lakes. Wow!

Fortified by last nights steak – and a good sleep – we cruised up a 700ft warm up climb, descended for 10 miles, and then began the main climb. 

   The picture above is of the Bear’s Tooth itself. Tim has put it on his ‘to do’ list. 
At about 8000 ft, as the trees thinned, we entered an alpine scene, with beautiful flowers in the meadows. There was, unexpectedly, a coffee stop.  

     
The final 1000 ft snaked up hairpins.

   
We even impressed the motorcyclists, who shouted encouragement. On the top we caused quite a stir, and a kind family took our picture.

   We were on the top by 12.30.  At 10947 ft, this is by far the highest place I have ever been on a bike. There is nothing so high in Europe, so unless I go to Colorado ……

The descent was epic, right down the wall of a huge canyon, on massive hairpins. About 5000ft in one go. 

We stopped at Red Lodge for chicken salad, and then blasted out the last 40 miles down a 1% grade in well under 2 hours. This was despite 2 miles of dirt through some roadworks, amd changing a rear snakebite puncture! We were flying! 

Sadly, we are back to nondescript edge of town motels and nearby fast food outlets. But the Yellowstone river is still close by – now with a chemical works on the bank! An easier day tomorrow. And this is where we stop messing about sightseeing, pin our ears back, and head east.

Yellowstone was simply a delight from start to finish – a new wonder around every corner. We saw grizzly bears (one was Yogi, for sure) fishing in the river, herds of bison (some from 10 feet away), coyote, osprey and Mr Ranger Sir himself – complete with hat! And then there was the geography: thermal vents, geysers, mud vents, acid pools, the Yellowstone Grand Canyon with its 2 massive falls! To a long distance cyclist, used to the relative motonony of the open road, this sensory overload in 90 miles was mind bending! 

   
 
  
   
   
 
  
     
Ok, so the bears were too far off for pictures (luckily) but it was thrilling to see that unmistakable bear profile when they lifted their heads.

The day also included one of the best, car-overtaking, descents yet, from the Dunraven Pass on the flank of Mt Washburn, at 8859 ft another high point for the trip.

We have now left the park by the NE entrance and tomorrow there is the small matter of a 4000 ft climb to 10,800ft on the Beartooth Highway. Weather looks ok though. 

Stop press. Just had a huge steak in the Beartooth Cafe. Fantastic. Will sleep well tonight. 

I am running out of superlatives for today. Suffice to say that the 2 day loop south round the Tetons has proved well worth while, despite the rigours of the Teton Pass yesterday. Jackson was a great little town. But leaving it this morning, on a smooth bike track, with the wind behind us and ravishing views in all directions ……. This is what we came for! 

  
We have acquired probably the definitive collection of photos of the Tetons from all angles.  

     
But the best views were from Jenny Lake, tucked in under the mountain.

 
Before finally leaving the Tetons we called in for coffee at a lodge with the most amazing view from a huge picture window that I have ever seen.   

  
At lunch we met 2 scots doing the official ‘northern tier’ route west to east – same  direction as us. But, because  of my idiosyncratic approach, and refusal to take the same route as everyone else, we were actually doing the same stretch of road in the opposite direction. That confused them! 

After lunch we entered Yellowstone Park and climbed up beside the Lewis River Canyon. There were great views from all the overlooks, and plenty of bear-hiding forest. The roads were calmer than expected, low speeds and no trucks (except Pepsi, Coke and Ice cream delivery trucks!)

       
And finally, we crossed the Great Divide for the third and (we hope) final time. All downhill to the Atlantic from here.

   
We are now settled in to a lodge on the shore of Yellowstone Lake, feeling very pleased with ourselves. 13/40 cycling days is nearly a third already – though we are little more than a quarter of the way across! And a day off tomorrow to rest the weary legs and sore posteriors. 

Yesterday’s final photo – at over 7000 feet on the Taghee Pass, just before Mike rescued us from the approaching apocolypse – had a welcome to Idaho sign, as well as a Great Divide signboard. So yes, we have turned back east slightly, back into Idaho. I didn’t want to feel we were rushing through without smelling the proverbial roses. So we spent today heading south in order to do a grand circuit of the Grand Teton mountains. Being red blooded males away from home it seemed important to view the Tetons from all angles! 

But first I have to mention last nights hotel. It was a beautiful wooden fishing lodge, right next to the Henry Fork river. This was the view from our room.

   
 Today the ride was in three parts. First idyllic pine woods, down a lovely river gorge, with deer and birds all round. This was on a scenic byway with little traffic.  

 
Then onto rolling farmland – wheat and Idaho potatoes. But always with great views of the Tetons. 

   
And finally, after 80 miles, a 2500 foot climb up the Teton Pass, the top half of which was consistently at 9 and 10%. This tops out at 8430 feet, our highest yet. A Motorist was moved to high 5 us and take our picture.

   
 In the process we climbed into Wyoming, our next state. From the top there was a screaming 5 mile 10% descent. We reached 48mph, equalling my record. Another motorist was moved to pull along side at the bottom and tell us off for going so fast! 

A much better day than yesterday – mainly because the strong W wind was across us most of the time as we headed south, not in our face. And the roads were smoother and quieter.

Stop press. Just had the best meal of the trip so far in an asian restaurant. Chicken and veg stir fry with noodles. Yum. Jackson is full of posh tourist shops – a nice place.  

A hardcore cycling day today! It started with a single climb of 70 miles in length. I have never climbed anything like it before. They do things big in America. The gradient was consistently between 1 and 2%, following the beautiful river Gallatin in a winding, wooded valley between sandstone cliffs. There was no flat ground at all to break it up. Rain threatened, but held off. 

  The problem was that, as we gained height so the headwind increased, and the top 30 miles were a serious battle into the wind. We made it in just over 5 hours cycling, with a second breakfast en route. The summit is at 7250 feet, our highest point yet.  
  
The battle with the wind continued all the way to West Yellowstone, on 88 miles, by which time we were pretty far gone. We considered staying there the night and then going direct to Yellowstone – but the town was fully booked. So on we went for a final 32 miles, over the Targhee Pass. As we started the climb an enormous thunderstorm pelted us with ice cold hail, and then eased back. It was past 4pm when we reached the summit (having started at 6.30am). Now the full force of the storm was very nearly on us. We were facing the prospect of 20 miles riding into the teeth of the wind that would inevitably accompany the torrential rain. We began layering up. 

 
I stuck out my thumb. A guy called Mike stopped in his pick up. The bikes went in the back and, suddenly, everything was very easy! Thanks Mike! We are now watching the storm from our hotel window, overlooking another lovely river. Better weather forecast tomorrow.

Last night, as thunder threatened to the west, we struggled to find anywhere to eat. These edge of town hotels are fine – but they are surrounded by nothing but crappy fast food outlets. The first we went into was actually a casino, with pizza attached. We left. The second was Taco Treats. Possibly the worst meal I have ever tried to eat. I gave up and steered us to the supermarket for picnic items to take back to the room.

Today’s cycling seemed harder than yesterday, despite the shorter distance. We were following a larger road, with a bumpy, gravel strewn shoulder. And most of the day seemed to be uphill into a headwind. Or perhaps that was just the state of my legs after yesterday. The road was also incredibly straight, many miles stretching away further than you could see.  

 
After about 25 miles Lake Missouri appeared down to our left. At the end of the lake we crossed the not-so-wide, infant Missouri, not once but twice. 

  
Then there was a long section of roadworks, after which we had to scrape the tarred on stones from our tyres. We were in a vast, open grassland, high up, and with distant mountains all around. This is ranching country, but they are so far off the road we just saw the entrances.

  
Late in the day we found a quiet back road. So quiet that there were wooden bridges over 3 rivers that unite to become the Missouri at this very spot. And a section of gravel road.

   
   
We stopped for coca cola and ice cream in Manhattan. No, not that one – we are not going that fast! The Manhattan Garden Cafe was a little oasis of coolness, and the Swiss owner regaled us endlessly with tales of all the long distance cyclists that had passed through. Now we are in another edge of town hotel – but we are assured that the pasta place next door is good (actually ‘the best in Belgrade’ was what she said, which isn’t quite the same thing. We’ll see.)