Yellowstone is one of those "best and worst" experiences. The physical environment is spectacular and ever-changing; the the riding is challenging and satisfying, with serious mountain passes to climb, sweeping descents and good road surfaces; there's wildlife in abundance; and the geothermal wonders of geysers and boiling pools are truly amazing. BUT; half the population of America is here in the summer months, and they're all driving massive motor homes and SUVs or towing caravans the size of small apartment buildings. The traffic is relentless and very scary. I watched in horror from the back of our file of five riders as the jutting mirror of a swaying motor home missed Ryan's head by about two inches. Everyone here talks about the danger of meeting a Grizzly out on the road, but if you're going to be killed or injured in Yellowstone, the odds are it'll be a motorised monster that gets you: not a furry one.
None of this stopped us from thoroughly enjoying the three day ride through the world's oldest (and probably its most spectacular) National Park. We camped at night in crowded campgrounds, but were able to sit around a campfire with a bottle (or two) of wine and retail and enhance the stories of our cycling heroism, to everyone's satisfaction. We dutifully locked our food supplies in the bear box before going to sleep, but none of us saw or heard the Grizzly that is reputed to visit the campsite every night. Why we slept so soundly, I'm not sure.
The thousands of acres of dead trees are the legacy of a catastrophic forest fire that ripped through the Park in 2000.
Yellowstone, of course, sits on top of a massive, subterranean super-volcano. WHEN (not if) this thing erupts, it won't simply devastate this particular part of the planet: it's very likely to precipitate a "nuclear winter" over the entire earth for many years - possibly exterminating all life. Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it. The prospect of Tony Abbott as PM, or even petrol at $2:00 a litre, doesn't seem quite as scary in that context.
Finally, in Yellowstone, there's evidence of a desire amongst Americans to recycle and conserve. For more than two months, riding accross this country, I've had little choice but to buy over-packaged food and drink and to throw the packaging into a general refuse bin. It seemed to me that world's biggest effluent society had little or no consciousness of its environmental perfidy, much less any motivation to do anything about it. The Rocky Mountain states, though, are definitely more progressive, and I suppose the pristine surrounds of Yellowstone, and the reverence of many Americans for this place, have a consciousness-raising effect. In any event, it was a great relief to be able to put my food containers into a recycling bin at last.
As we left Yellowstone, we entered the eighth state of the Transamerica Trail: Montana. Like Steinbeck, I'm besotted by this place. It's vast and imposing and uncrowded, and the locals are open, friendly and almost terminally relaxed. Although we've descended from around 8000 to 4500 feet, the weather is still sunny, dry and cool. We're having a rest day in Missoula - a pretty university town surrounded by steep hills and bisected by a wide, shallow river that seems to contain numerous groups of smiling people floating along in truck inner tubes drinking wine - an attractive local ritual. The place has book shops, coffee shops and all the other requirements of a civilised existence, and a layoff here is going to be pleasant. In about 10 days time I'll be on the Oregon coast, having cycled four and a half thousand miles across a continent. More of Montana soon, but I'll finish with some images of the hot, bubbly part of Yellowstone.
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