With several feet of snow on the ground inside Grand Teton National Park, it’s hard to imagine that spring will ever be here.
Plowing the drifts from the roads in the park is no small feat, even for the monstrous plows prowling between the pines at the base of the mountains.
In the month of April, when they start plowing the snow from the streets but have not yet opened them to motorized traffic, bicyclists, hikers, bladers and others can meander down the roads without the fear that some tourist or over-exuberant concessionaire employee will drift into them while gazing at bison or while illegally passing someone who is gazing at bison.
As we set out on our bikes and headed away from the bustling parking lot that served bicyclists, hikers, snowshoers and hikers alike, the park became amazingly silent, no car noise, no chattering tourists, no din from airplanes overhead (which happens rarely in Grand Teton), and we felt almost completely alone.
Two travelers and their bikes on a journey from civilization to wilderness.
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