There are few things that bring more joy to me than having a closed road to yourself as a cyclist. So much space, no cars to worry about, and just so fun! I have had a few bikes-only days in Yosemite, going up Glacier Point and even yo-yoing Tioga Pass before solo. But of course there's always another challenge... As I refreshed the Yosemite conditions page for weeks waiting for them to announce a bikes-only Tioga Pass day in 2024, I planned out a full double traverse of Highway 120 through Yosemite from where it turns off from Big Oak Flat Rd all the way to Lee Vining, and back. This route would add a major hurdle to the day, a climb from Lee Vining (elevation 6,781 feet) to the eastern entrance of Yosemite National Park (9,945 feet). That's 12.6 miles of continuous uphill, with grades that hover around 7% but occasionally kick up to 10% just to make sure you're paying attention. Oh, and you're starting at an elevation where the air already contains noticeably less oxygen than what most humans get where they live. Once we heard that there was going to be a bikes-only day for Tioga, just a couple days before it was going to happen, we fully committed. The night before we loaded up our bikes and camped out in the National Forest surrounding Yosemite so we could get in bright and early before the reservation system was enforced. ## The Early Miles After leaving Tuolumne Grove behind at 7 AM and tagging the official start at Big Oak Flat Road, we began our journey in earnest. The first segment treated us to the quietude of Yosemite in the early morning, with gentle grades and cool air that lulled us into a false sense of confidence. "This isn't so bad," my brain said. My legs agreed. Both were tragically mistaken about what lay ahead. Our first major water stop came at Yosemite Creek, where we quickly discovered we weren't the only ones getting an early start to the day. The mosquitoes, newly awakened for the season, descended upon us with the enthusiasm of tiny vampires at an all-you-can-eat buffet. What should have been a peaceful refueling break turned into a frantic dance of trying to drink water, apply sunscreen, and swat bloodthirsty insects simultaneously. ## A Cyclist Convention As we continued climbing, the landscape opened up dramatically at Olmstead Point, where we were treated to one of the most spectacular views in Yosemite. Half Dome stood proudly in the distance, a granite sentinel watching over the valley below. But the view wasn't the only impressive sight – we encountered what felt like a cyclist convention, with over 100 other riders taking advantage of the car-free day. There's something special about sharing a road with only fellow cyclists. Some were tackling the full traverse like us, while others were content with more modest out-and-back routes. All of us, regardless of our plans, were united in our appreciation of this rare opportunity. ## Pure Joy Having crested the first major climb of the day, we were rewarded with an exhilarating descent toward Tuolumne Meadows. Flying past Tenaya Lake, its waters a perfect mirror reflecting the surrounding domes, was a moment of pure cycling joy. The smooth pavement and sweeping turns allowed us to let gravity do the work for a change, a welcome respite for our already-taxed legs. The granite domes that define this section of Yosemite rose majestically around us as we descended and ascended each minor hill on our way up the pass. With no cars to worry about, we could take full advantage of the entire lane, choosing perfect lines through corners and allowing our speed to build on the straights. This was the payoff for all that climbing – a rollercoaster ride through some of America's most stunning scenery. ## Tioga Pass First Crossing and Descent After the brief reprieve of Tuolumne Meadows' relative flatness, we faced more climbing as we approached our first crossing of Tioga Pass proper. Having already put considerable mileage in our legs, this additional ascent wasn't easy, but the knowledge that a massive descent awaited on the other side kept us going. And what a descent it was! Nearly 3,000 feet of elevation loss stretched before us as we crossed the pass and began the long plunge toward Lee Vining. The road unfolds like a ribbon draped across the eastern Sierra escarpment, offering sweeping views of a unique section of the Eastern Sierra. The descent requires little pedaling but plenty of attention, as the speed builds quickly and the exposure on some corners can be substantial. By the time we reached the bottom, the temps were in the 90s and it was clear we were in a different environment. Luckily we wouldn't stay down here long, as we had a lot more riding to do. ## Lunch and Regrouping Even though it felt like the desert, Lee Vining marked the halfway point of our journey and was the perfect place for a substantial refueling stop. We chose Bodie Mike's, where the portions matched the appetite you'd expect from someone who had just descended 3,000 feet and was preparing to climb right back up. In our dehydrated and already exhausted state, the massive plates of food before us seemed simultaneously appealing and impossible. Our bodies needed the calories, but our stomachs had shrunk from the hours of exertion. Still, we did our best to consume what we could, knowing that the most ridiculous climb of the day was waiting just outside. The rest was as crucial as the food. For a blessed 45 minutes, we weren't pedaling, climbing, or descending – just sitting, allowing our muscles a brief recovery before the punishment resumed. I didn't think about it until after, but we didn't see another cyclist the entire time at lunch. I'm guessing most weren't silly enough to descend all the way down to Lee Vining for "fun". ## Embracing the Suffering With lunch settled and water bottles refilled with ice water, we faced the infamous eastern ascent of Tioga Pass – 12.6 miles of continuous uphill from Lee Vining (6,781 feet) to the Yosemite entrance station (9,945 feet). This climb would break many cyclists who attempt it even when fresh; we were tackling it with over 60 miles already in our legs. The first few miles lulled us into a false sense of security with their relatively gentle gradient. But soon enough, the road revealed its true character as the switchbacks began and the grade kicked up consistently to 7-8%. With the afternoon sun now high overhead, the lower portions of the climb offered little shade, adding heat management to our growing list of challenges. I found myself embracing the suffering once I knew I was close to the top. There's something meditative about settling into a sustainable rhythm, watching your front wheel slowly but steadily track upward, and accepting that the only way out is through. Reaching the entrance station at Tioga Pass for the second time that day brought a unique sense of accomplishment. We had conquered the most significant climb of our route, and while plenty of miles remained, the elevation profile was now more in our favor than against us. We were over 7 hours into our ride, the afternoon was advancing with the clock reading past 2:30, and we still had about 50 miles to go. But the knowledge that we had more downhill than uphill ahead lifted our spirits. ## A Sobering Moment After leaving the pass behind, we enjoyed some easier riding as we cruised through Tuolumne Meadows for the second time. The terrain was more forgiving and temps were cool, allowing us to recover somewhat while still making good progress. Our spirits were high despite the fatigue, with conversations bouncing between our group and other returning cyclists. Then, in an instant, everything changed. We were descending at a comfortable pace when a cyclist ahead struck some road debris and was violently thrown over their handlebars. My riding partner narrowly avoided being caught in the crash, swerving at the last moment. Being at the back of our combined groups, I had the clearest view of the accident and immediately stopped to help. The fallen rider was in obvious distress, dazed and injured from the impact. I provided basic support while waiting for their friends, who had been ahead, to notice and turn back. Once they returned, we assessed the situation and determined professional help was needed. Someone called for the rangers, and we waited for a bit while the situation unfolded. Watching the rangers drive away with the injured rider was a sobering moment. It was a stark reminder of how quickly things can go wrong, even on what should be a perfect day of cycling. ## Homeward Bound With the accident behind us but certainly not forgotten, we continued our journey with a more cautious approach. The remaining miles were taken at a more deliberate pace with less risk-taking on descents. Yet despite this more measured approach, we still found joy in the riding, stopping occasionally to capture photos and videos of the spectacular scenery that surrounded us. Despite our fatigue, it was impossible not to appreciate the beauty of Yosemite in this light. The descents, though taken more carefully now, still offered tremendous enjoyment as we wound our way back toward our starting point. As the miles ticked by and familiar landmarks reappeared, a sense of accomplishment began to build. What had started as an ambitious challenge was becoming a completed achievement, a day to remember for years to come. ## An Epic Day We rolled back into the Tuolumne Grove parking lot at about 5:30 PM, 10.5 hours after our early morning departure. The statistics of the day tell the story of our adventure: 118.98 miles covered, 10 hours and 37 minutes of elapsed time, 8 hours and 49 minutes of actual moving time, and a staggering 11,457 feet of elevation gain. These numbers, impressive as they are, only tell part of the story. They don't capture the camaraderie of sharing such an endeavor with friends and fellow cyclists. They don't reflect the mental fortitude required to keep pedaling when your body is begging you to stop. They can't communicate the spectrum of emotions experienced throughout the day, from the euphoria of cresting a pass to the concern following the accident we witnessed. What I can say with certainty is that this was truly an epic day, one that pushed physical and mental boundaries in equal measure. As I sat in the parking lot, too tired to even change out of my cycling shoes, I found myself already filtering the day's hardships through the rose-colored glasses that cyclists seem to develop. "That wasn't so bad," I thought, even as my legs trembled with fatigue. Will I ever repeat this full Tioga Pass traverse? I'm not sure. Like many ambitious cycling challenges, its difficulty is part of its allure. For now, I'm content to have completed it once, to have those memories and that sense of accomplishment. But I've learned never to say never – the mountains have a way of calling you back, no matter how much they made you suffer the last time.

Final ride statistics showing 118.98 miles and 11,457 feet of elevation