Classic Montana Ride. . . . In Wyoming

The Pass
Yesterday was classic Montana style riding: all four seasons in a day, epic flowing ST mixed with impassible downfall and missing trail segments, retracing the steps of the Lewis & Clark expedition through a section of the mountains that hasn't changed much since they passed through, crazy wildlife, Beartooth Pass, all of MT in a day.  All of it just over the pass in: Wyoming.  But only barely.  And other than the relative abundance of Aspens, which is welcome for me as it brings back Steamboat and SOCO memories, the wildlife and terrain is just like this side of the pass.

The ski area on top of the pass.  This is how it looked at 7am.  When I passed back by on the way home, at around 12:30, it looked pretty much the exact same, but way more crowded.  You gotta be pretty hard core to enjoy this, when only about 200' down the hill, it was a pretty nice spring day.

Beartooth Butte, Beartooth Lake

This pic was about one mile into the Lewis & Clark Trail (FT 176).  It was nice at this point.  Took off my arm warmers and was basically biking in a tee-shirt.  One hour after being in 25 degree temps on top of the pass.  

FT 176
This is a six mile all ST trail, that parallels the Clark's Fork of the Yellowstone river, which is maybe my favorite river in the whole world, and I love rivers.  The CFOY is really special.  The water is so clean, and the bed of the river has unique often exposed geology, the fishing is off the charts, and the human traffic is extremely low.  For most of the six mile ride though, the river is off to the south in a deeper and deeper canyon.  The ST is on a shelf above, and even though you're following a river downhill the trail actually trends up on the way out.
Along with the strangely deceptive uphill, there is a lot of downfall, creek crossings, and swampy sections, which leads to a frustrating first few miles, and probably the reason the trail isn't more popular with bikers.  There needs to be some trailwork; these issues are easily solvable by routing around the swampy meadows the trail seems to seek out, and making some stone and log crossings over the creeks, most of which are navigable as is and with some work could be highlight trail features instead of frustrating portages.
Anyway, this was all done in amazing spring weather, with wildflowers all around, and the trail all to myself, so it went by quick despite the fact the downfall was the worst I've ever seen in four trips to the area.

Each one is more scenic than the last, but as a rider trying to keep a good zone going,
each one is also more frustrating, cold, and time-consuming than the last.  

Vista Point
After two or three miles, the trail smooths out.  There is some climbing, but it gets fast and fun for the rest of the out, with amazing forests dotted with small granite slickrock playgrounds.  Eventually, you get to one of the best vista points in the world, about 6.5 miles from the trailhead.  Sorry, no pics because it was very dark, cold and windy.  Besides, after turning back on the three missions I got to this point with friends, I was excited to finally push on and try the descent, down over 1000' vertical in less than 1.5 miles of trail, to a section of the CFOY canyon that is otherwise virtually inaccessible.
Most bikers turn around at the vista.   On the map, the dh looks too steep to be enjoyable.  Then you get to a few miles on the bottom of the canyon, enticing for sure, but the only way out is to climb all the way back up, or to climb up an equally crazy climb and push towards the Morrison Ranch in the middle of nowhere on a cool bench opposite Sunlight Canyon.  It's another 15 miles away.  I knew the uphill would be one giant death march, and I suspected the bottom of the canyon alone would make it worth it, but would the dh add anything, or be another portage?

Going Down. . . . . 
Verdict: this dh is 1.5 of the funnest miles of your life.

This cool park is about 1/4 or 1/3 of the way down the hill, and we surprised two huge, glossy cow elk here on the way down, and the same two again on the way back up.  It makes a tempting stopping point.  If you do this ride, at least consider coming to this point.  After this, the trail gets really steep, and you get even more committed to going all the way down.  This is a good compromise.

Most of the dh was like this: surprisingly rideable, even flowy, with a heavenly backdrop.

If this doesn't look good to you, we are not on the same page.

This was the steepest part, and honestly I shouldn't have ridden it.
I did though.
Shrek kicks ass.

Another, lower vista point.  The clouds finally cleared enough for pics.  

Bottoming out: after a few punchy climbs, the dust settles, and you're at the bottom.
Once you stop and catch your breath, it's amazing the changes: the air all still, thick, heavy, and filled with smells of life and the river.  It's all quiet and peaceful.  And not very close to the river.  I went downstream for a mile, before downfall turned be back upstream.  There's a ranch upstream too, so I wanted to see either the river or the ranch, or both.

The bottom of the canyon, on this side at least, is super swampy and navigation is tough.  I waded through hip deep water twice down here.  Funny I just named my bike Shrek and I ended up stuck in a swamp for almost an hour.

The closer I got to the ranch and the river, the more work they had done on the trail, including this swamp bridge.  

Finally reached the river after almost three miles of poking around on the canyon floor.   Kip was super uneasy.  With only about twenty meters of terrain between river and canyon wall, I'd imagine it's a crazy wildlife corridor. He did not want to stay around.  I snapped a few pics and started what would turn into a 1hr death march back to the main vista pt.

Looking up at the falls leaving the Sawtooth Lake area.

One of my hip deep slogs.

On the way hiking up, it rained.  Then sleeted.  Then snowed.  Then hailed.  All in about 15 minutes.  Then there was a pause in the storm, and I raced most of the 6.5 miles back to the car, against the storm, on trails like this.  Awesome.

Ultimately, I lost the race, and spent the last mile in this weather.  I knew I was losing it when I started to laugh out loud at my train of thought about what to call it: snail (snow + hail) or slow (sleet + snow).  The places a biker's mind goes when the body is being pushed; it's pretty freaky in there.