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| Day 1 - Santa Clara, CA Day 2 - Eureka, CA Day 3 - Florence, OR Day 4 - Poulsbo, WA Day 5 - Poulsbo, WA Day 6 - Sandpoint, ID Day 7 - Kalispel, MT Day 8 - Sulfer Springs, MT Day 9 - Jackson, WY Day 10 - Orem, UT Day 11- Estes Park, CO Day 12 - High. Ranch, CO Day 13 - High. Ranch, CO Day 14 - Richland, UT Day 15 - Lee Vining, CA EPILOGUE |
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| The day started out great. I left at about
7:00 a.m. in mellow-yellow sunshine that created those early morning
shadows photographers always go ape over. The countryside was green
and rolling and it felt good being on the bike, being alive, being
here. As I head south, the sky clouded over and held the promise
of possible thunderstorms (photo 1), but for the first several
hours I seem to avoid the rain showers that I could see falling on
the hills around me. One of the biggest pains in the butt on this trip was the summer road construction (photo 2). I got stopped several times and it was just such an annoyance. First, it threw me off my schedule. Second, it was dangerous. I’m riding an older RT, not a GS. The GS, for those who don’t know, is BMW’s “adventure” motorcycle and is almost like an enduro motorcycle. It has high fenders, knobby tires, and is made to go “off road” as well as on the highway. My RT is definitely not designed to go off road, and I was always skittish as a virgin whenever I had to do so. These construction projects were always at least five miles long and sometimes, longer. I got stopped early in the morning and again, later that afternoon in Yellowstone. At about 8:30 I stopped at the local McD in Livingston, MT for some breakfast. Another rider from West Palm Beach, Florida sat beside me and we had a nice talk about motorcycles. On the road, in the “outback” there seemed to be little of the brand snobbery that I sometimes encounter in the California Bay Area. I believe it’s because everyone on the road realizes your both out there “doing it” instead of just talking about it. That makes you equals, no matter what you’re riding. This gentleman was riding a Harley to Sturgis, SD, the oldest motorcycle rally in the U.S. There are lots of Harley models, some better for long distance travel than others. This fellow road a Dyna Glide with lots of chrome. He told me they were expecting 700,000 motorcycles in a town that won’t exceed 10,000 during the rest of the year. Sturgis is almost a rite of passage for some Harley riders and is the largest gathering of motorcycles in the United States. As nice as his bike was, I’m sure he got lost in the crowds at Sturgis. He was picking up a buddy in Idaho and the two would ride together back to South Dakota. This was his first trip to Sturgis so I was happy for him. I hope he had fun.
An hour and twenty minutes later and I’m stopping to pay $15 to enter Yellowstone National Park (photo 4). That’s more than I had to pay at any of the other national parks on the trip. I did all of the things a tourist does in Yellowstone, take pictures of the boiling water, the running streams, and roadside elk (photos 5, 6, & 7). Much of the park still shows the scars of forest fires that ravaged it several years ago (photo 8 & 9). Yellowstone is unique among the national parks because it has so much geological activity (photos 10 & 11), trout fishing (photo 12), as well as large amounts of wildlife. There’s always something to do.
You can always tell when there is a large animal in the area, since people stop right in the middle of the two-lane road. Of course this backs up traffic something terrible. Since I have a motorcycle, I was able to squeeze through most of these jams, and in the process, I see countless numbers of strange creatures. They are all standing by the road or in the field with cameras attached to the front of their faces, all looking in the same direction. They are an odd looking species. I must admit, that since I just came from Glacier National Park in Montana, it was hard for me to get excited about Yellowstone. In fact, I can’t help but think that Yellowstone is a little overrated. I probably shouldn’t say that since I know this was the nation’s first national park, but you like what you like. Actually, I feel a little silly because I’m comparing degrees of grandeur. If you wanted to build me a house in the park, I would gladly live there. This is a large park with a 45-mph maximum speed limit and road construction. When you throw in the fact that I got lost, twice, it made for a long day. I finally cross the Contintenal Divide (photo 13) and head down the other side. The Continental Divide is that place in the Rockies where when there’s a rain storm, those drops that fall on one side of the divide run down the streams towards the Pacific Ocean (photo 14), and those drops that fall on the other side of the divide run to the Atlantic. At least that’s the theory. Six hours later, I leave Yellowstone Park behind and soon enter the Grand Tetons National Park.
I don’t believe there is a more awesome set of mountains anywhere in the U.S than the Grand Tetons. You cannot ride south along this range without wanting to stop and take pictures. Unfortunately, there are only 24 pictures on my roll of film and I’ve used most of them at Yellowstone. I only have two shots left (photos 15 & 16). Well, you know what they say, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Let’s hope so. I’ve given you two just for insurance. Wouldn’t you know it, I take another wrong turn and go 13 miles out of my way before I figure out I’m on the wrong road. After checking my map I’m heading back where I came from. I stop and ask directions from a member of a road crew and he gets me back on the road to Jackson. He tells me that I should be careful since it’s getting dusk and the elk come out in numbers during this time of the evening. He tells me that if I hit one, it could ruin my motorcycle. I tell him I’m more concerned about me dying than I am a wrecked motorcycle. He smiles.
Traffic starts to pick up big time so I must be on the right road to Jackson Hole. I fall in behind a couple on a Honda for the next twenty miles or so. They are making good time, which means I’m making good time. They pull off to take a picture, I wave goodbye, and continue on to Jackson Hole, getting in around 6:15 p.m. It has been an eleven-hour riding day and I’m ready to get off the bike. My butt is sore, my feet smell, my shoulders ache, my dandruff is out of control, and I’m generally not in a good mood. Miles traveled today – 345. I have a nice dinner at the “Wagon Wheel,” next door to my $80 motel room. It’s not much for $80 and it proves the saying that the most important thing in business is location, location, location. |
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