It was the afternoon of Friday, April 8, in Yellowstone National Park, and all traffic on the road along the Madison River came to a screeching crawl, like blasting down Interstate 15 into Salt Lake City and hitting rush hour traffic.
The traffic on this day was mostly bicyclists riding the road between West Yellowstone, Mont. and Mammoth Hot Springs. The road is open during the first two weeks of April to bikes and authorized park vehicles only.
This traffic jam was caused by the locals. In this case, a few dozen bison decided to take a casual stroll down the road as they moved from one meadow to another.
Being caught behind the giant, shaggy animals was both exciting and frustrating. It was cool to join the herd as it moved down the road in the direction I was going — toward West Yellowstone — but my stomach was telling me it was time to get back and fill the empty space.
I had planned on riding with some friends on April 9 (a Saturday) from West Yellowstone to Mammoth Hot Springs and back, about a 97-mile round-trip, but the weather forecast for that day was dismal — cold, windy and messy. The day before, however, looked promising. Nearly 60 degrees and sunny was in the forecast, but I would be on my own.
I started out solo from the West Yellowstone visitor center parking lot at about 9:15 a.m. with bright sunny skies and freezing temperatures, but with the promise of warmer times ahead. Few people were on the road during that chilly hour, and I was struck by the amazing beauty of the park when it was waking up on a bright spring morning.
The first animal (other than birds) that I saw was a coyote darting toward the road. When it saw me, it did 180 degrees and sprinted back into the forest (I often have that effect on folks).
A few miles from the Madison Junction, I passed a small group of bison off in the meadow along the river. They were standing like statues, sleeping in the frosty morning.
Along the way, I only passed the occasional biker or pair of bikers up to the Gibbon Falls area. Most of the time I was riding in the park by myself. It felt exhilarating. When I arrived at Madison Junction (about 14 miles in), I stopped to take a layer of clothes off. I was about to head up the long hill next to Gibbon Falls and didn’t want to break into a big sweat. About 20 miles later, I started passing riders coming the opposite direction from Mammoth Hot Springs. Some were guided groups on e-bikes. At about mile 44 or so, the road drops sharply for a few miles down to the community of Mammoth Hot Springs. I made a beeline to the General Store.
It was 12:15 p.m. when I sat and ate a salty turkey sandwich I bought from the dairy case. Another guy showed up who had also ridden in from West Yellowstone. He reported getting a flat on the steep downhill.
After sitting and relaxing and texting my sweetheart, I began the steep ride up the hill out of Mammoth Hot Springs. It didn’t help that a headwind was starting to pick up. Thankfully the ride back to West Yellowstone is mostly a gradual downhill, with a few uphills to keep you working hard.
Partway back I met a guy from Rexburg who knew me somehow and we rode back together. It’s always helpful to take turns drafting in the headwind.
Just past the bridge over the Madison River, we rode into the bison jam. A couple of brave souls biked up to the bison on the right side of the road and squeezed past the herd. The bison slowly, politely opened up a path and the group of bikers flooded past.
When I arrived in West Yellowstone, my bike computer said I had gone 97 miles. Because I’m a bit crazy, I decided to ride across town and weave in and out of the blocks until I had an even 100 miles logged. I pretty much saw everything the town has to offer.
Jerry Painter is a longtime East Idaho journalist and outdoorsman.
