Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route (Jul 2022)

Shoshoni to Ten Sleep - Wyoming's Utah - WYBDR 6
Part of the Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route (Jul 2022) trip.

Having arrived in Shoshoni extremely early in the morning, and with no refueling necessary, we rolled out of town as soon as we'd snapped a photo of the "Welcome to Shoshoni" sign on the edge of town. As we did, a couple dual-sport riders passed us in the opposite direction, and we wondered aloud if they were riding the BDR from north-to-south.

Making our way along Badwater Road, toward the little town of Lost Cabin, a familiar theme appeared along the side of the route. There was no gas plant lining the public road, but there were plenty of wells visible into the distance.

The early morning light - even if we were driving into it, added a warm tone to the landscape.​

For those who live in Wyoming - have you ever encountered flashing lights?​

A little further on, as we neared Lost Cabin, we discovered these thermal vents. They seemed to be lined and capped (loosely), and we weren't quite sure why.​

Through the town of Lost Cabin - a mostly abandoned town that's got a single famous house (the Big Teepee) and an oil-and-gas yard - we turned north as we transitioned from the Wind River Plain toward the Bighorn Mountains - the playground of the final two stages of the BDR.

Initially, this transition appeared similar to the other's we'd experienced along the way - sage slowly giving way to juniper and pine, old cabins slowly being reclaimed by nature, and of course, increased elevation.

Into the foothills.​

This old cabin once boasted a fantastic view back down into the valley. Today, cows inhabit the immediate vicinity.​

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We didn't see many riders on the trail, but my guess is that it's going to be a busy summer!

(Know who this is? Contact me.)​

Unbeknownst to us, the granite and red rock of this hillside foreshadowed much of what was to come.​

Following the Nowood River, we didn't end up gaining all that much elevation as we worked our way north, the well-graded road gently winding its way to the 6,700' Cottonwood Pass before dropping into - and through - Nowood Canyon.

Fluttering around in the sunlight, this little guy was having a blast in and amongst the spring flowers.​

Last one, I promise. Large rectangular bales of Wyoming hay.​

It was here - in Nowood Canyon - that we got our real surprise for this leg of the journey. Initially, we thought the first red hillside we passed was just a random occurrence. But then - another. Rising so bright above the green grass, and so striking against the blue sky, it was almost as though we'd driven into Utah. On a short stage with a smooth road - ample opportunity to finish the stage quickly - we did our best to do the opposite, slowing down to admire what the landscape had to offer.

Wyoming's... Utah?​

I only promised no more stacks of hay. ​

As we wound our way down Nowood Canyon, each turn brought more color.​

The canyon chokes down - but only momentarily - at Mahogany Butte.​

Just as we squeezed through the narrow passage at Mahogany Butte, we spotted the work of a local artisan along the side of the road. Similarly themed to a faux-bronze statue we'd seen on a similarly early morning between Ruidoso and Truth or Consequences on the New Mexico BDR, we were most definitely going to stop to admire it. I have to admit to making several 360° turns in the road in order to shoot this shot out the driver side window.

Anyone need a ring gear? Leaf spring or two? Perhaps a railroad spike?​

Ready to charge.​

A few minutes later we were back on track and immersed in the colors we associate places much further south, albeit with some much brighter greens than we tend to see there. And then, in a finale of color, the road dove into Red Gulch on Otter Creek, and we found ourselves smack in the middle of it all.

Fingers and buttes reaching into the canyon.​

Irrigated farmland, a brilliant contrast of saturation.​

Into Red Gulch.​

Picturesque paddock.​

It was only 11:00am when we reached the bottom of the canyon. From there, pavement would take us to Ten Sleep, and the end of the stage. We'd covered 100 miles in record time and now we were looking for a good place to eat lunch. Ultimately, we'd find a nice little park with a little bit of shade, and we'd enjoy tuna sandwiches and potato chips as we watched a group of van-lifers practice yoga and post their stories to the gram.

After six stages of some of the most remote roads in the country, it seemed we'd found the hippest place around.

 

Ten Sleep to Burgess Jct - Beauty of the Bighorns - WYBDR 7
Part of the Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route (Jul 2022) trip.

We didn't stick around in Ten Sleep any longer than necessary - mostly for the same reason that we scurried from Atlantic City and South Pass the day before - people. I'm sure that all these places would be super fun to wander around mid-week, but on a warm summer weekend they were just a little too crowded for our liking.

It was on our way out of town that we realized why it was so crowded. Sure, the road we'd traveled into town may have been beautifully reminiscent of Utah, but it certainly hadn't warranted a quadrupling of the population. But as we headed into Ten Sleep Canyon, it was clear where the real attraction was.

We were so distracted by the towering walls of the canyon that we missed our turn off the highway!​

Once we snapped out of our drooling daze at the canyon around us, we found a pull-out where we could turn around. But not before snapping some more pictures.​

Back on the right track, we were soon winding up the eastern side of the canyon - either on the old highway or on an old rail grade. Whatever it was, it was unpaved but not at all uncrowded. There were vehicles everywhere, and we soon discovered why.

No matter how you climb up through Ten Sleep Canyon, the views are fantastic.​

Of course, some climbs/views are harder/fantastic-er than others, I suppose.​

Still had a long way to go.​

Yep, the canyon walls had been discovered by the climbers, and the popularity of Ten Sleep was immediately apparent to us both. After a bit of glassing with the binoculars, we were back in the truck and on our way through a single gate, re-joining the highway for a moment before diving off onto dirt again, as we began our first big ascent into the Bighorn Mountains.

Looking back down towards Ten Sleep.​

Gaining elevation quickly as we exited the canyon, the hillsides greened up, the juniper giving way to pine and fir.​

Make a gigantic wish.​

Before we knew it, we'd climbed from 5200' to 9300' and found ourselves at our first dramatic overlook of the snowy Bighorns to our north and east. Getting out of the truck here was like stepping into a candy factory - the smell of the wildflowers, sweet in the air. Given our route, I knew we'd get even closer to the mountains, but we still hung around for a while, soaking in the visual and olfactory stimulation.

We'd spend the next two days in the Bighorns - a grand finale as it were!​

A living bouquet.​

So happy with the smells.​

Eventually pulling ourselves away, I mentioned to @mrs.turbodb that - if possible - we should camp in a spot that Monte @Blackdawg had taken me a couple of times before - once on The De-Tour and again on The Re-Tour. We still had quite a bit of ground to cover in order to get there - and several stops in-between - but I hoped that with the long days, we could make it by sunset. She was game, and I'd say we made it a full quarter mile up the road before we just had to stop again.

Into the high mountain meadows, purple rivers stretched through fields.​

So. Many. Lupine.​

Stands of trees broke up the purple hillsides, audible gasps and finger pointing sure to resume as we exited the narrow passages to new stunning vistas.​

At this point, the route wound its way out of the mountains and down toward Hyattville. I'm not exactly sure why the BDR planners chose this path - rather than maintaining elevation in the Bighorns - but it would give us an opportunity to check out some rock art that I hoped @mrs.turbodb would appreciate, so down the mountain we dove.

A little hazy, but still - I don't think most people would attribute a view like this to Wyoming.​

Unfortunately, our dive down the mountain turned into a bellyflop when we found ourselves behind a couple of Jeep Rubicons that had a top speed somewhere in the 4-7mph range. It's not that the roads were difficult or that the Jeeps were underbuilt. In fact, quite the contrary, they were motoring along on aired-down 35" tires and top-of-the-line suspension. Initially, I thought they might not be looking in their mirrors; then that perhaps they were simply looking for a place to let us by. But, after passing several large pullouts, it seemed something else was going on. Surely a couple short flashes of my bright-as-the-sun Diode Dynamics SS5s and a friendly toot of the horn would get them out of our way in a jiffy.

Nope.​

It was painful to be stuck behind such capable vehicles.​

Eventually - as in 20 minutes later - we finally came to a gate. As both Jeep drivers got out of their vehicles, it was immediately apparent that it was a couple - each in their own toy. With no way to communicate with each other on the trail, the wife hadn't wanted to be separated from her expedition leader, and he'd had no way to signal her to pull over behind him. Radios: they are important.

Hoping to make up time, but knowing that we had to stay ahead of the Jeeps, very little braking was used as gravity pulled us down the hill. It turns out we had nothing to worry about from a "catch up" perspective, as even with several stops for photos, we never even saw their dust trails in the distance.

It was amazing how varied the color of the dirt had been in this area; here, nearly white.​

Just moments later, a deep red.​

Nearing the bottom, we spotted an old homestead in the distance. At first, we were both convinced that it was still occupied - a bit of a relief in that we'd not be tempted to explore. But the closer we got, the more apparent it became that we would be looking around - for a few minutes anyway - as the homestead had been abandoned for a couple decades or so.

Homesteaders definitely had an eye for picking the picturesque spots.​

The front house was an addition to the back, and clearly in better shape.​

Left in a hurry? Thought they were coming back?​

Whatever the reason the homesteaders had left, the proximity to the road and several open doors meant that rodents had gotten into the place, and it was now beyond repair; unfortunate, as it seemed like a pretty nice place in its time. And so, content to climb back into the air conditioned Tacoma, we soon found ourselves rolling into - and out of - Hyattville, on our way to Medicine Lodge.

Happy man.​

This combination petroglyph-pictograph reminded me of the sundials I've seen at other sites.​

Fat family.​

Horned lady.​

Insect guy.​

Native Americans weren't the only ones to make their mark on this wall, Burgess and Martin passed through here many times and left several axle-grease marks.​

Having made it to Medicine Lodge, we were making good progress - we'd covered 57 miles since lunch - but were still some 50 dirt miles from camp, a five-mile spur off of the BDR route. It was 4:00pm and hot at our current 4,700-foot elevation; we hoped that camp in the Bighorns would bring cooler temperatures.

With that, we set off. It wasn't long before the 5,000-foot climb began, all of our elevation achieved over the course of 15 miles at a relatively consistent 10° incline. The weight of the Tacoma meant we were between second and third gear for most of that time, as the landscape alternated between trees and meadows. With each passing mile, the temps moderating. Pure bliss.

Dappled light filtering onto the roadway as we once again climb into the Bighorns.​

At a second overlook of the highest peaks in the range, the Tacoma perched at the edge.​

A river runs through it.​

Out on the edge.​

At Upper Medicine Lodge Lake, one of several we passed along the way.​

This part of the BDR - and, really, everything that remained - was some of the most beautiful road we've traveled on any of the discovery routes that we've done. I suspected that would be the case, as I've spent a week or so in the Bighorns on other trips, but with the last of those being in 2019, I'd forgotten how special this range really is. The views go on and on, with ample variety of terrain to providing endless enjoyment for those passing through.

The mix of rock, trees, wildflowers, and meadows was mesmerizing.​

Racing along ridgelines, the condition of the road varied, but we were able to keep relatively reasonable rates of travel.​

In the end, we made great time through the Bighorn Mountains, reaching a road I remembered fondly as our "exit route" from both the De-Tour and Re-Tour years before. Climbing up though the Aspen, I glanced over at my dozing co-pilot, hoping that she'd find our camp site - now only 10 minutes away - as lovely as I remembered it.

The final climb, a single ridge between us and a relaxing hideaway for the next 12 hours.​

Popping over the summit, the view before us opened up to a peaceful meadow, ******* Creek meandering through the tall grass. It appeared - and would turn out to be the case - that we had the whole place to ourselves, as we made our way down to camp on the edge of the meadow.

The clouds were looking dramatic as we pulled into camp.​

Pretty soon, we were set up in my favorite spot, the temperature much more pleasant than it'd been at lower elevations.​

Unfortunately for us, the lush, spring green grass and plentiful water nearby meant that summer's first wave of mosquitoes were in full swing. We'd brought along our goofy-looking bug net jackets for just such a situation, and broke them out for the preparation and consumption of dinner.

Looking netty.​

They may seem like a cop out, but hot dogs are always a treat when we do end up eating them!​

Of course, to eat, we had to remove our hoods. Miraculously, at exactly the same time we sat down, the wind picked up and our mosquito problem became a non-issue. The wind would mean a bit noisier night in the tent, but if one thing is for certain - it is that wind is better than bugs.

The Following Morning...

It was, I think, the best night of sleep we got all trip. The wind died down just as we climbed into the tent, and with a calm breeze and temperatures in the high 40s °F, the camp site I'd been looking forward to showing off to @mrs.turbodb was delivering. The only drawback was that our position out in the meadow meant dew, and so the tent was a little damp when we woke up in the morning.

I always love when the colors smoothly morph across the sky before the sun comes up in the morning.​

Knowing that we'd easily finish the route by the end of the day, we lazed around a bit on this - our final morning on the trail - before getting up around 7:30am.

I'd hoped that our two-hour delay in climbing down the ladder would completely dry the tent, but alas, some high clouds meant that it could have used another hour.​

Wandering around camp, I followed the path of ******* Creek for a while, enjoying the gurgle as it passed on by.​

Even the trees were happy.​

Headed back to camp to find my compatriot.​

The wind that'd pushed the mosquitoes away the night before hadn't returned, so with netting over our torsos, we packed up the tent and got ready to go. Luckily - even though bits of the fly were still damp, I knew we'd have to deploy the tent one more time - on our way home - which would allow it to dry out.

Before leaving the area entirely, I showed off a second primo camp site to @mrs.turbodb, just across the meadow (and creek).​

Climbing out of the valley, we once again found ourselves skirting along a broad ridge, this time working our way past Antelope Butte. We didn't notice as we approached, but as we skirted through the grass below the rocky outcropping, we suddenly noticed movement. Lots of movement. A herd of Elk more than 200 strong - by far the largest we've seen - covered the upper reaches of the butte like a swarm of bees.

As we approached, the grandeur of the butte itself is what caught our attention.​

Then, our surroundings had us marveling at the morning.​

Flowers for the lady.​

Only as I was out picking my arrangement did @mrs.turbodb spot the Elk. And my, were there a lot of those guys!​

Noticing that there was a road that climbed at least part way up Antelope Butte - and wondering if we could find a way closer to the herd - we worked our way up and around it became clear that we'd be in a different position, but not all that much closer to our ultimate goal.

Even though we didn't get any closer to the Elk, it was interesting to see the butte from another perspective. A much greener one.​

And so, we retraced our tracks to the main route - now headed towards Woodchuck Pass - more high meadows, rocky granite outcroppings, and even a cow and baby moose grazing in the distance below. We hadn't been on the trail more than half-an-hour, and the day was already turning out to one of the best!

Retracing our detour to join the herd on the hill.​

The clouds, light, and rock play so well together in the Bighorn Mountains.​

Our second set of moose on this trip. And, a baby!​

Past Bruce Mountain and through Woodchuck Pass.​

We had only a single stop planned between Woodchuck Pass and the end of the stage at Burgess Junction - for a splash dam I've wandered by previously. It's not marked at all on the BDR route, but is marked by an information sign on the roadside, and I highly recommend checking it out for anyone else travelling the route.

As usual, we got sidetracked before the splash dam, an unknown tower catching our attention. Perhaps an old weather station? Ham radio repeater?​

What remains of the splash dam. The water was much lower here the last time I visited.​

As we admired the splash dam, a caravan of semi-trucks loaded with cattle came rumbling up the main road. Five of them, each with a dozen or more cows mooing and pooing away, we counted ourselves lucky that we'd completed our stay in ******* Creek. I've been there before when the cattle have been grazing, and it was a tense morning as one trapped me in my tent.

A whole new understanding of "cattle drive."​

A standoff at dawn, 2019.​

It was nearly 11:00am by the time we started the final stretch - some 15 miles - to Burgess Junction. Our speed was a quarter of what it had been on every other morning of the trip, a testament to our surroundings. Even this last little bit would take us longer than normal, as we enjoyed one of the bumpier sections of trail, and of course, views to go along with it.

There's nothing on the route that's even moderately complex for a 4-wheeled vehicle; this was about as extreme as it got.​

The views - on the other hand - were second to none.​

Only a lodge - and this warning sign - marked the beginning of the end of the WYBDR.​

As we pulled out of Burgess Junction, we weren't quite sure what was in store for the final leg of our journey. Upon reaching the border with Montana, would we go north or return south? Would this final segment - as with so many other BDRs - be a weak point full of pavement or as splendid as the last? And, perhaps most importantly, since we were getting hungry - where were we going to eat lunch?

 

Burgess Jct to Montana - Grand Finale - WYBDR 8
Part of the Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route (Jul 2022) trip.

Unlike most stages of the Wyoming BDR that were between 100 - 150 miles, the final stage was a mere 43. Surely, we thought, we'll be done in an hour or two tops. Naturally, we were mistaken.

Already remote - starting from the junction of WY-14 and WY-14A - crossing the highway immediately landed us on gravel roads where we wondered aloud what we'd do once we reached the end of the route. It was a bit of a mystery given a few salient points:

1. Ending where it did, the BDR technically terminated at a border between Wyoming and the Crow Indian Reservation, which I supposed was technically in Montana... or perhaps it was another nation entirely; we simply weren't sure.
2. Prior to embarking on the whole adventure, I'd saved directions - from Google Maps - that would get us to the beginning and from the end of the BDR, home. These directions definitely continued north through the reservation - but we all know what happens when you blindly follow Google Maps.
3. The WYBDR organizers suggested that we'd be turning around at the border with "Montana" and working our way back to WY-14A.

Just a few minutes into Stage 8, Twin Buttes was aglow out the windshield.​

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Still in the Bighorn Mountains, the same spectacular views from Stage 7 stretched to the horizon.​

In the end, we realized that we had plenty of fuel and that it wouldn't really matter from a "how do we get home" standpoint, so we set our sights on more immediate issue: somewhere to eat lunch. We wanted something with a view, and a bit of wind to keep the mosquitoes at bay, and before long a nice wide spot in the road offered just such an opportunity, plus some.

There, a few hundred feet further up the ridge, was a cairn. Not just any cairn, this was a 12-foot tall behemoth, and we both knew that we were going to check it out before any sandwiches were made.

@mrs.turbodb thinks this was a Basque sheepherder's cairn. Anyone know for certain?​

Naturally - after reaching the top and admiring the handywork - we glassed the surrounding hillsides for nearby markers, discovering none. And so, still wondering what we'd stumbled upon - it was so tall, after all - we headed back down to the truck for some tasty tuna sandwiches, potato chips, and a Cosmic Crisp apple. And then, we were on our way.

We'd follow only three roads over the course of the afternoon, the first being NF-15 and the last being NF-11. Like the connection between them on NF-143, each wound their way through the Bighorns, first leading us west - away from the highest peaks, then north to the edge of Wyoming. Along the way, we stopped frequently, these mountains packed with surprises, each of which warranted investigation or amazement.

Wait, what?​

This cabin - in the USFS style, though we weren't sure if it was a private inholding - sure did have a nice spot on the edge of the meadow, high in the Bighorns.​

Nicely appointed.​

Eventually, we turned of NF-15 and onto NF-143, a splendid little two-track that traced its way along one ridge after another, through mint green meadows and fields of snow hanging on to the last few weeks of existence. Combined with cotton ball clouds in the sky, there was no part of the trail where we made slower progress.

This was the beginning of a one-mile section of trail that took us 30 minutes to travel.​

I always love seeing a trail disappear into the distance.​

On reaching NF-11, the first thing that caught our attention - though, I must admit that we'd seen it along the entire route - were all the RV trailers that'd been left nestled into nooks and crannies of the forest. There were dozens - perhaps hundreds - that were squirreled away. Were they reserving a camp site for later in the summer? A home base for hunting should a tag come through? We had no idea, but with each passing mile one thing was obvious: trailers per acre were on the rise.

I always wondered where the parking lots full of RVs go.


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The second thing that caught our eye was a barrier that'd been pushed to the side of the road. It seemed like it was a bit out of date - by perhaps 3-5 days - but we'd have no way of knowing for sure until we made our way around it to give the remainder of the route a try. It was time for our final push to the border!

Challenge accepted.​

Soon, we were once again working our way along ridgelines.​

Green goblins, cheering us on.​

We spotted an arch, though we could never get close enough to explore.​

In the distance, Montana.​

And then, with little fanfare, and certainly less signage than we've ever seen at the end of a BDR route, we reached the end. Wyoming's border - with the Crow Indian Reservation - was marked by an unassuming barbed wire fence and a hastily placed sign.

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The road continued to the north but seemed rarely - if ever - travelled; understandable given that permission must be obtained to continue through the reservation.

End of the road.​

One happy traveler.​

Contemplating our achievement for a few moments, it was time to go. We knew that the answer to the question we'd had at the start of this final stage of the Wyoming BDR had been answered - we wouldn't be continuing north. Rather, we'd be turning around and retracing our path to WY-14A, where we'd make our way out of the Bighorns.

Headed south, the way we'd come.​

Even on our return trip, new sights caught our eye. Mushroom rock.​

By every measure, the Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route had delivered. Smiles on our faces, the discussion immediately turned to our favorites: our favorite stage of the route, our favorite single experience on the trip, our favorite BDR to date.

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One thing was unquestionably true: we needed to come back to Wyoming.

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Bonus Chapter: Plus a Little More

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Headed toward home on WY-14A, we travelled less than a mile before diving off the side of the road to a nearby attraction that we weren't even sure we'd be allowed to see: Medicine Wheel. Still, with our fingers crossed, we made our way up Medicine Mountain and soon found ourselves in a parking lot, just more than 1.5 miles from the sacred Native American Indian site.

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There, some USFS employees were just heading out for the evening, but told us that we could walk to Medicine Wheel, as long as we were respectful of the site - staying outside the fenced area, respecting the offerings left in the area, and as always, staying on the trail. Excited, we thanked them for the info and set off toward the site.

As we hiked along the ridge towards Medicine Wheel, we could see our earlier route to the Wyoming border, high up in the Bighorn Mountains.​

Medicine Mountain is now home to a radome, in addition to Medicine Wheel.
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Several of the prehistoric trails that led through the Big Horn Mountains intersect here. The first people using these trails may have entered the area as long as 10,000 years ago! Over time, possibly due to rising temperatures and a decrease in moisture, the buffalo-centered plains people interacted with the hunters and gatherers of the mountains, sharing this trail system. The trail you are now following was the main access to the Medicine Wheel for these Ancient Americans.

Today, Native American Indian people and cultures from around the world still cross paths here. Native American Indians, representing 81 different tribes, still utilize this ancient trail to practice their traditional ceremonies. Some traditional people prepare themselves for over a year for their journey to the Medicine Wheel.

What is left of Medicine Wheel, with 28 spokes radiating from the center.​

Offerings, left by Native American Indians, can be seen along the fence, within the Medicine Wheel, and dotted around the landscape of this sacred place.
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The Medicine Wheel is about seventy-five feet in diameter and has twenty-eight spokes. The origin of the wheel, made of limestone slabs and boulders, is not clear. Present-day Indians have no known legends or traditions to explain its background, but the pattern and orientation imply that the builders were sun worshipers.

George B. Grinnell, an expert on the Cheyenne culture, pointed out similarities between the Medicine Wheel and the Cheyenne medicine lodge, and other experts on native American culture also suggest the wheel resembles the Northern Cheyenne Sun Dance lodge. A buffalo skull found facing east in 1902 suggests a connection with the Sun Dance, but the wheel could be merely a marker for important ceremonies.

A piece of wood recovered from the walls of the west cairn provided a tree ring date of 1760. The hub consists of a circular stone mound, about three feet high, from which the spokes radiate, possibly representing the days of the lunar month. Around the edge of the wheel, at different distances from the center, are six "medicine teepees" to symbolize the planets. In the 1930, the teepee on the east side was higher than the others and nearly square, and its

openings were on the north side, whereas all the other openings faced the hub. The teepees may have been shelters for the chiefs or medicine men during worship, and once there were large excavations under them. Now they appear only as small rock mounds. (Roadside History of Wyoming)

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After spending some time at the wheel, we headed back and began the long trip home. We'd stop along the way for fuel and food, and once - outside of Pipestone, MT, - to camp. Coincidentally, that camp site ended up being at a place called Ringing Rocks, and we couldn't help but check them out when we awoke the following morning.

A sign posted at Ringing Rocks warns visitors that they will no longer ring if they are removed from this location. The sign does not lie.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/MogF7WZv2X0

Wow. The science behind this is sort of cool, but if you ignore it, the experience is even cooler.
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Packing up the tent, we pulled the bedding - pretty gross after more than a week with two bodies and some of the hottest nights we've had in a long time - and put on a clean change of clothes. We had a 12-hour drive in front of us to reach the comforts of home, but we were already discussing how we could get back to Wyoming!

 

What a Great Route - WYBDR Epilogue
Part of the Wyoming Backcountry Discovery Route (Jul 2022) trip.

The Wyoming Backcountry Discovery route is our 6th BDR in as many years. Through the running of each one, @mrs.turbodb and I are - as you can imagine - regularly comparing the current BDR to the past ones. Starting last year, with the New Mexico BDR, I finally started writing some of these down, and of course - I now feel obligated to carry on that tradition into the future.

I like to think of it - a little bit - as a Rig Review for the BDR route.

TL;DR - The Wyoming BDR blew our socks off. Before leaving, we were worried that it didn't go to some of the places we'd expected it to go, but the route through the Sierra Madre, Medicine Bow, Wind River, and Bighorn Mountains was spectacular. Even the connecting stages had highlights that were joyously unexpected. Perhaps the only stage we'd not recommend is the Stage X Red Desert loop, which was a bit... boring. To date, this is now our favorite BDR.

With that summary, let's get into the details!

The Roads

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The mix of roads for the WYBDR was nice. As expected, nothing along the route was difficult for a high clearance 4WD vehicle, given a driver with a bit of experience. Many of the roads were high-speed graded gravel, with a few rocky-and-bumpy trails thrown in. We quite enjoyed the variety, as @mrs.turbodb isn't a huge fan of bumps, but we both recognize that the bumpy roads often lead to less populated experiences.

There was certainly pavement along the route - but I wouldn't say it was overwhelming. Something in the 10-15% range, usually around small towns where the target audience (dual sport cyclists) would be looking for food and lodging.

The Scenery/Landscape

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As I've alluded to above, the scenery was fantastic. Right from the get-go, the climb into the Sierra Madre kicked off this route that brought excitement at every turn. For the first several days, our time in the Medicine Bow Mountains (and specifically the Snowy Range, where we took the time to enjoy the high lakes and hike to the top of the 12,000' Medicine Bow Peak) was the best part of the trip. Travelling across the state from east-to-west and then back again, the high desert and red rocks reminded us of Utah. And then, stage 7 and 8 brought two full stages in the Bighorn Mountains. These rivaled our time in the Snowy Range, especially given all the wildflowers blooming across the high meadows.

The best time of year to do this trip? In my opinion there are two:

• As soon as the route is passable. This is - essentially - spring, even though it likely occurs in late June or early July. Everything will be so green, and the wildflowers will be in full bloom. It's seriously like driving through nature's garden.
• During the fall, when the aspens are changing color. Several stages along the route pass through aspen groves, and each of the mountain ranges have numerous aspen along the trail as well as in groves visible from the route. These will be spectacular as they shimmer in the fall breeze. You'll have to time it perfectly to catch the leaves before they fall, but you're sure to be rewarded.

Highlights
For us, the highlights of the trip were many - too many to list, really. Here are some of our favorites, numbered but in no particular order:

1. The Snowy Range (stage 2). Just driving through was spectacular, but stopping at several lakes for lunch and a hike to the top (Medicine Bow Peak) was my favorite thing of the entire trip. Camping in the Snowy Range was great, because it meant seeing the area in both the afternoon/evening light, as well as the early morning when we awoke.
   
   
   
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2. Going for a dip in Alcova Reservoir (stage 3). This was a lucky side-effect of a re-route that we took, but it was such a refreshing activity given the 90+ °F temperatures, that I'd recommend it to anyone. There was ample parking at the lakeside, and the water temperatures were pleasantly mild.
   
   
   
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3. The entirety of Stage 7 and Stage 8 in the Bighorn Mountains. The roads here were some of the most scenic of the entire journey. Rising and falling along ridgelines, and visible into the distance as they wound through the green grassy meadows, they provided constant - and yet everchanging - views of the snowy Bighorn peaks. Even if you aren't doing the entire BDR, these sections are worth enjoying.
   
   
   
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4. Wildlife. This will change from year to year and place to place, but always be on the lookout - we very much enjoyed seeing moose, pronghorn, deer, marmots, pika, wild horses, and numerous flying creatures over the course of the trip.
   
   
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Lowlights
The only thing we didn't think was "worth it" was the Stage X - Red Desert portion of the trip. This isn't technically part of the WYBDR, it's one of the new, shorter, loop-style routes that the BDR organization is putting together so they can release more routes more often. To us, it was pretty monotonous, and definitely didn't have the same wow factor as the rest of the BDR.

There are two main attractions of this loop - according to the good folks at the BDR org - the Red Desert badlands that you can see from Delaney Rim, and Adobe Town. For us:

• The badlands were cool, but we've seen significantly cooler ones on several other trips. Anza Borrego probably has the best badlands we've ever encountered, at Fonts Point.
• Adobe Town is more "hoodoos" and badlands," except that you drive through them. They are neat and all, but again, Anza Borrego is better, as are a lot of places in Utah, like Canyonlands National Park, where you can drive through similar terrain that's on a completely different level of awesome.

Things We Might Have Enjoyed
We finished the route in six days, having planned 8-10. Had we known we'd be done so quickly, we might have taken things a bit more slowly in a few areas:

1. A stop at a hot springs. There were several just far enough off the trail to make it feel unfeasible on this trip, but the hot springs at Saratoga or a stop over at Thermopolis would have been nice. If we were to repeat this trip, we’d probably either drive out to Saratoga during Stage 2 or over to Thermopolis at the end of the trip.
2. A side-trip to Christina Lake. I've wanted to go for a long time, but we weren't sure about timing, and @mrs.turbodb wasn't a huge fan of the rocky road - this is a slow, high-clearance 4WD road - as we made our way through the Wind River Mountains.

But really, with the Wyoming BDR jumping to the top of our list, I think it's safe to say that this was a huge success!