The Codori Family

Kathy Griest's Bike Trip 2006

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I joined the America By Bicycle group in Boise, Idaho on June 26, 2006. The group was undertaking 3000+ mile trek from Astoria, Oregon to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. I was invited, by my best friend Leslie, to accompany her on part of her journey. My first days ride was 50 miles of highway and many assured me that this was not the norm. That became true in the next few days as we passed through miles and miles of corn, potato, wheat, rye, beet, garlic and scallion farms, through open plains, by cascading waterfalls, into cities, and through tiny towns. We rode our bikes just listening to the sounds of nature, the sounds of brooks and streams and raging rivers passing by, the sounds of deer wending their way down from the forests, and of hawks winging their way just overhead. We saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of farm horses and cows, many tending their newborn, all along the route. Each day had been quite beautiful and each quite different from the others.

We crossed into Wyoming on Monday July 2nd as we climbed the long and arduous Teton Pass. The splendor of the Tetons made the climb seem quite worthwhile. It was a 7,000 foot climb with several miles of grade in the range of 10%. For those of you who are not cyclists, that's tough riding! Snow capped peaks, rushing rivers, wild flowers and wild life at each and every turn. Challenging, exhilarating, exciting, stunningly beautiful. The Teton Pass was a real highlight of the trip thus far.

After climbing through the Teton Pass we spent the night in Jackson Hole where a number of us busted out of the Pizza Hut pizza party and went to a really special little restaurant called "Trio - an American Bistro". Great food, great wine -- a real treat, especially when Harrison Ford ambled in and sat down right across from us.

With the Teton climb behind us, the next day we spent several hours cycling through the Teton National Forest and along the outer perimeter of Yellowstone National Park on our way to our second giant climb of the week, up and through the Continental Divide. We saw herds of bison, elk and antelope. Songs were sung having to do with being home, home on the range where the deer and the antelope play. What really came to mind for my riding companion and myself was what prompted the writing of other songs' lyrics about purple mountains' majesty, amber waves of grain, and fruited plains. My god was it beautiful! What a really cool way to spend the 4th of July! The only regret I had was that my riding companions decided to stop 1/2 way up the climb at a lodge that was inviting us to picnic with them on "Fresh Grilled Hot Dogs and Hamburgers". How could we resist, it being the 4th of July. Let me just say, the first half of the climb to the Divide was far easier for all of us than was the second half. One of the riders from Scotland captured it best when he stated "I think I shall have to put more air in my tubes now that I've taken that burger on board." Ditto for hot dogs.

Following the crossing of the Continental Divide, we stayed in a small town called Dubois, population 900+/-, but, because it was the 4th, the population, all clad in cowboy hats and spurs and other real cowboy and cowgirl garb, swelled to just over 3,000. Parades, square-dancing, bar-b-ques, fireworks -- a small western town at its very best. A fun place to celebrate the 4th.

The next days’ ride of 120 miles into Casper was the longest day of the entire ride. Rolling hills, fields and fields of wheat, corn and all sorts of different crops as we biked our way through eastern Wyoming. Then came a rest day in Casper where we just relaxed and enjoyed being out of the saddle. I must admit the climbs have been challenging and the descents quite thrilling, some of my favorite thus far in my bicycling career.

I was surprised by how dismal and depressed Casper was and by the incredible desolation of eastern Wyoming where we passed town after town with population signs claiming population numbers of 50, 40, 10, 1 and then none. Houses and barns, trading posts and one room school houses that once no doubt had been vibrant were now just in shambles, long ago deserted by the people who had once made their homes and their livelihoods there.

For hundreds of miles we were in utter desolation, seeing little but these ghost towns, an occasional gas station and a rare hotel or motel. Our entertainment for those couple of days of biking was racing the near mile-long freight trains (and often winning) and trying to figure out on a roadway with so very few cars and trucks, how could it be that hundreds and hundreds of deer, birds and bunnies gave their lives?

We left Casper and crossed eastern Wyoming the 8^th and 9^th and into South Dakota the 9^th – 13^th. Although extremely hot and drought-stricken, I do think South Dakota was quite beautiful. We especially loved the day’s climb into the Black Hills when we journeyed to the Crazy Horse monument and then on up to Mount Rushmore . We had never seen either, and each is quite moving in and of itself. The impact of having ridden our bicycles there was almost overwhelming. The thought was to just wanted to capture the moment, bottle it and savor it for the rest of our lives – so incredibly powerful.

For the rest of my journey, there was a record-breaking heat wave with temperatures of 105-110, skyrocketing to 115-117 the last several days. To that, we are told to add an additional 10-15 degrees to account for the reflective heat off the pavement. Whether it was 105, 115 or 125, let me just say this: It was HOT!

In addition to the heat, we had some incredibly challenging hill work, and, several days, faced headwinds of 20-30 mph gusting to 40-50 at times. One day in particular, our 117 mile ride from Wall to Pierre SD, was described by even the strongest riders among us as the hardest ride of their lives. Nearly two thirds of our riders chose to sag in somewhere between the 50 and 100 mile markers where the head and cross winds were nearly blowing us off our bikes. Three or four were in such bad shape due to the headwinds, hills and heat exhaustion that they had to be carried away by ambulance. Several others, so tired and frazzled by the day, simply fell off their bikes suffering cuts and bruises and the like.

Although the conditions were miserable, my buddy Leslie and I rode on. We departed our hotel in Wall, SD early trying to escape at least some of the heat, we were good about hydrating and replenishing electrolytes, cooling our heads, gloves and biking jersey and even riding with ice cubes in our shorts (now that is a trip!) Anyway, with great support from our staff and the company of my good buddy ,we made it through the ride safe and sound and ready for dinner, a Dairy Queen Blizzard. This is where I left the ride, in Pierre, SD. I saw the riders off in the morning and took a plane ride, bike in tow, back to California. I will forever cherish this 800 miles to see sights I never would have captured had I done it any other way. I am eternally grateful to Leslie for taking me on this journey. I hope you enjoy the pictures.

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