Adventures

Day 15: Gambling on Atlantic City

The sun sets on the great basin

Pinedale, WY (28 June 2019)Cool, pleasant, fresh air filled my lungs as the pedals were turned away from Pinedale. It felt like a fresh start on the Tour Divide aboard a rig that felt tight and solid. For the first two weeks, parts of my gear needed constant attention. After sending some gear home, I felt unburdened, having been released from the worry of a troublesome bag.

The route today would take us through a rolling desert along the southern edge of the Wind River Range of mountains. As we continued on an easterly and southerly path, the land became even drier as it entered the vast region known as the Great Divide Basin. It took us most of two days to cross the basin which is nearly devoid of accessible water and services.

This was the first day since the start of the tour that filtering water from natural sources could not be relied upon. Consequently, two stops were planned for the day. The first was a water stop along a highway and the second was Atlantic City which was 86 miles from Pinedale. Enough water was carried in bottles for about 5 to 6 hours of riding which made the highway rest stop essential. Even so, this stop was over 70 miles from Pinedale. In addition to the bottles, a 3 liter bladder was carried in my backpack. When filled, this bladder doubled my water carrying capacity. The bladder had not yet been used on the Tour Divide because filtering water was preferred over carrying the weight of water on my back.

Maxwell Southam on his way to a 2nd place finish among Tour Divide racers going south to north

The small town of Buffalo appeared after a 12 mile glide on gently sloping pavement. It would have been smart to stop and take some extra fluids on board but I rolled past, still digesting the breakfast enjoyed in the lobby of the hotel.

After more than 20 miles of beautiful lonely riding on the paved highway, the pavement ended and other cyclists appeared ahead. First there was a Tour Divide racer heading north, having started at the border with Mexico. He seemed very happy to be moving swiftly on the relatively smooth gravel road. Next, three cyclists, loaded with gear, crushed gravel up a short rise ahead. It was Max from Alberta and Adam from Australia! Also with them was Joseph. Max was last seen on the first day of the Tour Divide and Adam was last seen in Helena. Joseph Rafferty was from Texas. It was a happy reunion as we pedaled along and I was fascinated to learn that the fix Adam and I helped facilitate to Max's bike has held up since day one!

The route takes us south of the Wind River Range but not over any major climbs. Despite this, we crossed the continental divide several times. You can't tell by looking, which part of landscape drains to the Pacific from the parts that drain to the Gulf and you certainly can't tell which rise marks a boundary between the two.

Adam, Joseph and Max crush gravel south of the Wind River Range

The main feature of the route today was the Wind River Range. We were treated to majestic views the range across a parched land of brush and sandy dirt on a bright sunny day. The snow on the peaks shimmered brightly and served to highlight the sharp spires of rock. My water supply was running low when I stopped to take a picture of Max in the far distance, pedaling across the sage desert, on a sinuous road with the mountains standing tall behind him.

It was a joy riding, stopping and talking all of the way to the first water stop. Sitting on gravel with desert all around, it felt good but odd, as potato chips were consumed in the heat of day. Over the last week it was discovered that whenever it was difficult to eat bars or even sandwiches, chips could always be consumed. After eating a few, my appetite for other food would return. Since this discovery, chips were almost always on hand. Didn't need to eat a lot to recover an appetite but without these, my calorie intake would have suffered.

Water! I was out of water, having underestimated the need, on this, the first hot day of riding in memory. We arrived parched at the highway rest stop hoping for water and we were not disappointed. It was wonderful, cool clear water. The rest stop was even air conditioned. The three of us drank and filled bottles for the 20 or so miles to Atlantic City. Drinking down that cool refreshing water instantly became one of the best memories of tour. It was something so simple and basic yet it's one of the strongest memories I have from that day.

Max on the road below

There was a steady flow traffic on the paved highway but our time on the highway was short. I wasted no time getting back to the nearly deserted gravel roads. The other guys were not close behind so I continued on at my own pace. The gravel became rough and some steep hills appeared. Short steep hills with quick rough descents marked the route from the highway to Atlantic City.

There's very little in Atlantic City and what is there has limited hours. Based on my reading, the only reliable thing in Atlantic City is Wild Bill. Bill runs a gun shop, bed and breakfast and a new ice cream shop. Upon arrival in Atlantic City, I went straight to Wild Bill's. It was fun talking with him. He was happy to talk about the riders he's seen and was especially excited to show me a new space he and his wife created. This was a hall with an ice cream machine. I felt privileged to be one of the first to be served while enjoying a Coke float. Bill advised me that on main street there are two places to eat -- he emphatically recommended the second one. The Mercantile was more of a bar while the second one, the Grubsteak, was more of a restaurant. Both had bars but it became clear from our experience that food was more important at the Grubsteak than it was to the staff at the Mercantile.

Ryan hiking from the Mexican border to the Canadian border

Bikes were lined up against the Mercantile when I arrived. Upon entering, Adam, Max and others were spotted sitting around a large table near the door. They made room for me and no time was wasted in ordering a large plate of food. There was no sign of Bill or Mark and I wondered how they were getting on today. Immediately after all the food in front of us was devoured, the water bladder in my backpack was pulled out. Francis marveled at how clean it was and asked how I managed to keep it so clean. The answer was simple, I told him, just don't use it. Indeed, this was the first time the bladder would be filled. It was according to plan that the bladder was carried for the crossing of the Great Divide Basin and the Gila National Forest.

From Atlantic City to Warmsutter the route crossed the Great Divide Basin by traveling nearly 100 miles of parched sage brush desert. We spent the late afternoon in the Mercantile preparing for the desert crossing and letting the hottest part of the day expire. I was nearly ready to go when I noticed Joseph's bike leaning against the building next door. The Grubstake was quiet with a few locals and the barkeep greeted me immediately with her broad smile. I ordered pie and something to drink before joining Adam and Joseph at a table in the corner. What a wonderful treat that was. The chef came over and talked to Joseph who apparently enjoyed a full meal there. The food possibilities looked more attractive than the place next door. As 4:30 PM approached, it was made clear to us that closing time was near. If you are planning a trip across the basin be sure to consider that the services in Atlantic City do not have long hours.

The golden hour is the time just before sunset or after sunrise when the light is redder. For me, however, the golden hour included every hour pedaled after eating dinner. I was looking forward to the golden hour on the Great Basin but also considered it the best way to tick off some miles in cooler air.

The gravel road leading us from Atlantic City climbed steeply almost immediately. Just as the turn was made to begin the climb, I saw Max heading back toward the way we came into town. I shouted out to him just in case he was accidentally following the route backwards. There was no response. I hesitated but finally continued on my way, pressing hard on the pedals just to keep moving, as the hill gained steepness. Just ahead, Adam was wisely saving energy and encouraging digestion by walking his bike.

The basin stretched out before me at the top of the steep climb. The road could be seen undulating toward the horizon ahead. An animal appeared on the road in the distance. As this creature came closer, it got much taller. It was a person walking toward me on the gravel road! Ryan was hiking the Continental Divide Hiking Trail (CDT) and hoping to make it to Atlantic City before everything closed. I suspected he would find something open but failed to consider how much slower walking is than riding a bike. In any case, I made sure to mention Wild Bill. He would certainly see to Ryan's needs. It's incredible to think of anyone walking across this vast dry landscape for several days. Hikers of the CDT are known to have water supplies cached along the route and it seems to me it would be an impossible task otherwise. Ryan was a through hiker on the CDT which means he started at the Mexican border and will keep going until reaching the Canadian border. Many others hike the CDT in sections, returning year after year until all the of trail is covered. This part of the Tour Divide Route is shared with the Continental Divide Hiking Trail (CDT). There are other sections of trail that are shared by hiker and biker as both trails roughly follow the Continental Divide.

Several unnoticed crossings of the divide

A group of three horses ran wild in the distance as my shadow grew before me on the road. A relaxed pace was enjoyed while small birds darted from sage brush to bush. This was truly the golden hour of cycling. The light and the shadows contributed to a magical feeling but the feeling was mostly the result of a relaxed attitude. With a large amount food recently ingested and over 100 miles passed under wheel, it was easy to feel good about every inch pedaled. I'm reasonably certain that if my bottom fared better, I would have enjoyed many more golden hours on the Tour Divide.

The sun was low and dusk was beginning to settle on the basin. I recalled telling Adam about my sighting of a mountain lion in a region of the basin west of Riverton, WY. On my trip in 2001, a mountain lion was seen as it followed a dry creek bed to a bridge for the highway. The large cat came onto the road to smell some roadkill but was disturbed by my approach. Adam seemed concerned so I advised him to avoid camping next to creek beds, dry or otherwise.

A spot was found to camp on the next to last step of a stair-step climb up from a dry creek bed below. It's a vast sameness in all directions so the spot I found was no different than most any other spot for miles and miles. It seemed good mostly because at that moment daylight was waning, the spot was well above the creek bed and level. Not long after setting up camp, two bicycle headlamps were spotted rocking gently in the distance. The lights stopped on the step below which was too far away to see who was riding the bikes. My light was turned on briefly to welcome these fellow bikepackers to the hillside. It was probably Adam, Joseph and/or Max.

Camping on the Great Divide Basin

The night sky was amazing. The night was spent in the tent without the fly which allowed the stars to shine down upon me. It was an incredibly quiet night -- not a sound was heard. Not the sound of wind, bird nor mouse entered the tent. The night was black, with only a waning sickle moon which set as night fell. Satisfied with the days 123 mile effort, the crossing of the Great Divide Basin was paused while I slumbered.

Elevation Profile for Day 15