Ridin' Friday: The Paths Not Taken

My intent to explore the subdivisions and random branchings-off of the Highway 89 Pathway went from a vague, someday kind of plan to an actual concrete one when I ended up having to run into the office one Sunday afternoon. Some of us may or may not have forgotten to put our work in the appropriate computer folders Friday.

Once that was taken care of, I didn't have as much afternoon as I'd hoped for to get out with Little Red. Certainly not enough time to make it out to the Wilson Canyon trail, which I'd vaguely planned on when I got dressed for a bike ride that morning....or, you know, noon. So I remembered those areas I hadn't gotten to when I went out to Game Creek, and went ahead and had me a glass-half-full moment. (Although, I think that saying only works if you know what the glass is half-full of, but that's another story for another day).

So I headed back out to Highway 89 and had a surprisingly nice ride, considering there were many. many houses and many, many owners of those houses looking a little resentful that someone they didn't recognize was riding through their sacred haven of expensive. Both Rafter J and Melody Ranch have some unexpectedly great Teton views and nice little pockets of woods and creeks next to the pathway. Plus - I had me a biking triumph in my own kind of pathetic way on the way back to the pathway from Rafter J. There's a long-ish hill up from the Rafter J paths to the main one, and the first time I rode there, I had to stop and catch my breath partway up. This time, I won't say it was easy, but I didn't even have to slow my pace. Hooray! I'm getting stronger!

By far the most disappointing stretch was South Park Winter Range, at least in terms of bike riding.

I'd heard good buzz about a wildlife loop in that area that went around two ponds where trumpeter swans live, and figured a nice, not-too-rugged wilderness ride would be the perfect end to the day. However, as you can see in the picture, I got stopped by this nice big gate that kept everyone not on foot away from the loop. Signs - which you can't see in this picture - warned against disturbing the swans.  The sign itself was at least a year old, so one could assume the eggs mentioned on it were well-hatched by now. However, I am generally against people messing with wildlife just because they want to play in their habitat, so I decided to take a break and fool around by Flat Creek for a while.

It was getting steadily hotter, so the cool air by the creek was welcome. Plus, I am a firm proponent of how much fun it is to sit peacefully by the water. And of splashing other people in a fit of mischief, but since I didn't actually know anyone else there that day, I thought that should probably wait for another time. That's what being a grown-up is all about, amirite? Between one thing and another, I wandered along the creek for probably as long as it would have taken me to ride the wildlife loop and got in some very important throwing of rocks and sticks as I did so. Generally speaking, I think Flat Creek is one of my favorite things I didn't expect to find in Jackson. The town takes a lot of care to make sure there is public access to it and it's too small and shallow for the endless boating you can get on the Snake and Hoback Rivers.  Plus, did I mention how the Tetons are right nearby, like everywhere in town?

 Because they are, as you can see here to the right. So, in the essence of exploring, I ended up not minding so much that I didn't get to go where I planned because of what I found instead - a not-too-far, not-too-crowded place to play by the creek. However, I did have a moment of stupid on the way back. Not as severe as my trail fail from earlier in my mountain biking saga, but not one I care to repeat if I can help it. So if you'll recall, I mentioned it was getting hotter while I played by the creek. On the ride back as I grunted my way up the steep and very rocky road back to the main pathway, I realized I was really dehydrated after spending all that time in the sun. What's more, I hadn't brought anywhere near enough water for this game. I ran out at the top of the ascent from South Park and still had one or two signficant climbs to go. What's even more, as I rode along the pathway trying not to think about how freaking thirsty I was, I realized that I was also really, really hungry. Thinking back, I hadn't eaten anything since the few pieces of toast I grabbed for breakfast and that turned out to be not nearly enough fuel for an afternoon of biking. Then the mild headwind kicked up. Had I thought to maintain my energy properly, I don't think I would have noticed. In fact, I would have welcomed the breeze.

So I biked all the way back to town feeling like a Hummer on the interstate - hungry for more fuel, be it ever so inconvient, and increasingly crotchety about it. Please note, LRMB-ers, that biking may be low-impact, but it's a high-energy activity. All apologies to Robert Frost and his yellow woods, but I'm sure had he been biking, he would have made sure to include a warning to bring a snack along if you're going to be taking roads in woods like that. Turns out the path not taken is much easier to take if you've been smart enough to anticipate your own needs along the way.