Day 47. Grand Teton National Park to Yellowstone National Park. 75 miles.

I'm glad to be out of the plaines and into the mountains where destinations are mysterious and routes even more so. Tall trees hide destinations from view and asphalt is carved into the forest floor. The scent of pine fills the air, white clouds swim through the blue sky and hills of jagged rock stretch above all. The miles pass quickly here.

I rode over a couple of passes to the junction of Grant Village in Yellowstone. All the while, vehicles from all over the country passed by. Inside, eager faces peered into the canyons and woods that bind the roadways. The ride was smooth, climbing and descending and the only concern I had were motorhomes due to their massive size and lack of shoulder on the road. I trust semis more because their drivers drive constantly, while Ma and Pa Smith take their giant RV that is pulling a Hummer that is pulling a trailer holding motorcyles only but a few times a year. Gotta watch out for those giant wastes of resources. I mean really, do you need all that? Really?

I ate lunch and spoke with a man from Scotland who was all about touring back in the day. Had toured New Zealand and parts of the US. Next trip, I hear? I pressed on to Madison Junction where I knew a hiker/biker campsite was waiting. I decided to bypass all the sites as I had planned on spending the next 5 days touring the park with a lovely friend of mine who was coming in for a visit.

As I sat down in my campsite, another cyclist rolled in. He was a frenchman traveling from Denver to San Francisco and we began talking immediately. Obviously there is a bond long distance cyclists share because we're all eager for companionship as well as eager to share our own stories of life on the road. It's addicting. We spoke of food, countries, customs and fire as the sun sat. The sky was clear that night and the air cold. Finally my 15 degree sleeping bag came to good use.