by Zach Bigalke

Created on: November 13, 2007

There is a mysticism evoked on long miles through the surreal scenery of Grand Teton National Park. Zeke, my chef at Colter Bay, had gotten me addicted to cycling. The busy season was nigh, and stress levels were escalating in the kitchen. I was hypertense; Zeke proposed an after-work ride. I loaded up on carbohydrates throughout my shift - Zeke was planning to make this a killer. We started from Colter Bay around eleven at night, bedecked with lights and reflective gear. Pushing off toward the highway, thoughts of work eroded with each pedal stroke.

There is nary an automobile on northwestern Wyoming roads at this hour. The moon hung full in the sky as we surged past Jackson Lake Lodge, our bicycles humming as we opened the throttle. Coming upon a fork in the road, we set our fate in a clockwise direction. Heading straight toward Moran, we would eventually pop back out at this point...

The Snake River meandered past to our right, its waters reflecting the moonlight. Pacific Creek Road passed to our left. We took the bridge over, popping out at the park entrance gate. Zeke led the charge as we turned westward, setting course toward Moose. I pulled up alongside, settling into a smooth rhythm as we rolled along through ranchland and meadow. These are the roads of my childhood, but long school bus rides never illustrated the beauty coursing by now, moonlit at fifteen miles an hour.

Man-made wind blew through my helmet, summer mountain air keeping me cool. I opened a Clif Bar as we passed Triangle X Ranch, sweeping down toward the S-curves of Deadman's Bar. Up ahead, a slow-moving apparition comes into focus. Zeke and I hit the brakes, coasting to a stop and peering ahead. We take the opportunity to snack and drink water as a moose crosses the highway in his own stately time.

Back to speed, we rode through the S-curves onto Antelope Flats. The moon cast ethereal light onto the Tetons. Sloping slightly downhill, we pick up speed on the deserted highway. Blacktail Butte rises out of the valley ahead, a monolith holding post between the Tetons and the Gros Ventre. As we approached, the road swept around its western flank toward an intersection. We turn right, Dornan's passing by before we ride over the Snake River and through Moose. The gate unmanned, we continue without pause.

The ride seemed effortless. We chewed up the miles as we headed back northward, skirting miles away from the glowing glaciers of the Teton range. Zeke and I rode side by side. As we near Jenny Lake, a herd of elk appears from nowhere on either side of the road. At least a hundred strong, the herd runs alongside the highway, sharing in the journey for the next five miles. We slow slightly, cherishing every second in commune with nature. Some dart across the road, playing in the light-beams. The crowd thinned, and we continued onward... now well past two in the morning...

Our progress becomes a blur soon afterward. We stop at Jenny Lake Lodge to refuel, then continue. Jackson Lake appears to our left as Signal Mountain hovers to our right. We are soon sweeping across Jackson Lake Dam, high over the headwaters of the Snake River. We pop back out at our initial fork in the road. Five more miles, and then the convenience store appears on our left. We sprint the final five-hundred yards home to finish the journey right, our minds sixty-five miles clearer and ready for a new day...

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