I'm in Cheyenne tonight, on my way home to Houston after several wonderful days of ridng throughout the Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, and Washington states.
I arrived in the Missoula area last Wednesday evening. The off-road riders would not arrive until the next day, and I wasn't sure who else would be getting there who wasn't doing the off-road ride. Thursday morning, I was tired and did not feel up to riding the 550 mile roundtrip to Washington state to get the national park stamp, so opted to take a local ride, going out highway 12 towards Lewiston. It's a beautiful twisty road that follows Lolo Creek and also follows the path that Lewis & Clark took through this area. It goes over Lolo Pass, at 5200 feet. This is deer-infested deep woods and had a couple of "brake-and-swerve" incidents. I went 100 miles west on this road, then turned around and returned to Missoula, not wanting to commit to the entire route, which I would have had to do in order to get gas, as there are no settlements along this route until Kooskia. But it was enough. I returned to the hotel and had a late lunch and waited for the rough riders to arrive.
That evening, the group assembled in the parking lot and began to make plans. Some of the off-road riders were leaving the next day for home, their participation in the event being over. The remainder decided to ride a loop suggested by one of the organizers: South on 93 to 43, toward Wisdom, then north to Anaconda where we'd pick up the western half of Pintler Loop. This was a fabulous route. 93 climbs steeply into the Bitterroot mountains, going over Chief Joseph Pass and the turn onto 43 put us onto high chaparral. Along this route, we stopped at Big Hole National Battlefield, where the Nez Perce Indian wars took place. The road north out of Wisdom was a pleasant winding road going past marshy bogs where we saw a moose standing in the water. It turned to gravel for three miles, but fortunately we turned off onto a fine little gem of a road, SR-274 up to Anaconda. Here we got onto SR-1, the Pintler Loop, which took us past Georgetown lake and down a nice twisty descent. This got us back to the hotel with an hour or so to get ready for dinner at Jaker's in town.
Many decided to head for home on Saturday, rather than stay another day to ride. The heat was suffocating and many were eager to get back east where the temps were more moderate. My friend Claye and I chose Saturday to get over to Washington state; I needed the national park stamp, and she had plans to visit friends south of Seattle, so this worked out well for both of us. I-90 west of Missoula becomes a terrific mountain road, climbing into the mountains, then descending, more than once as it passed through Fourth of July Pass, Lookout Pass, and national forests. West of Spokane, we headed north out of Davenport WA toward Fort Spokane and the national park there. The small two lane road rolled over miles and miles of fields, which were gorgeous! Miles and miles of rolling fields of golden wheat, brilliant green barley, and fluffy canola.
I departed Sunday morning for home, taking 93 south all the way to US 20 where, first I headed west to Craters of the Moon national park, then backtracking east toward Pocatello for the night. Even though we'd ridden a small part of 93 on Friday, it was only a taste of what the entire route was like. Coming down the other side of Chief Joseph Pass, I saw a deer and two fawns in the middle of the road. I slowed way down, yet they still would not move. I was quite close to them, and was nearly to a stop, and could get a good look at this beautiful, little family standing there in the morning sunshine, looking at me. I finally feared for their safety, and honked my horn to disperse them, and they scampered off together. I hope they found safety, and was glad that the road was nearly deserted. As the road continued south, it varied from being a flat windy road along side the Salmon River to racing through a deep gorge, climbing mountains, rambling through farmland. 200 miles of never-ending scenery and continuously changing terrain.
Monday morning, I rode just a short ways on interstate to get onto US-30 headed east. This was yet another fantastic secondary road...smooth, well-maintained, and out in the middle of absolutely nowhere! The landscape changed from prairie, to volcanic rock, to rolling hills, and around every bend I never knew what I'd find. About 3/4 of the way to I-80, I came to Fossil Butte national park, and stopped here for a visit, to get the national park stamp, watch the film, and take some photos. Very cool! Once on I-80, it was 290 miles to Cheyenne, much of it the same, stark landscape of rocky, lava-bed hills covered in scrub. But as I got into eastern WY, the landscape changed dramatically as we gained altitude. Across the Continental Divide at 8,900 ft and the temperature plummeted and the land changed yet again to high plains.
Now I'm in Cheyenne and will be leaving in the morning and heading south through far eastern Colorado. I should make it to Amarillo for the night, then Houston on Wednesday nite.
Yesterday was a very long and tiring day, riding south out of Billings on Beartooth Highway and into Yellowstone, across the northern portion of the grand loop and then out and north, back to I-90 and west to Missoula.
Beartooth Highway was incredible! But very technically challenging. It has many very steep and sharp switchbacks on a very steep road over Beartooth pass, then down the other side. It was only about 60 miles or so from Billings to Yellowstone park entrance, but I had to be mentally "on" the entire way. I have a fear of heights, more specifically a fear of falling. This road is narrow, bumpy, with the right track in each lane potted and in poor condition in some areas. There is no guardrail in most areas, and the plunge off the side is immediate, with no shoulder. It was nerve-wracking in places, as cars were often careless about drifting over the line in the hairpins. But, for the most part, I was able to enjoy the pass, and not freak out too much. Descending on the WY side, the views were spectacular!
I left the park out the northwest entrance, headed toward Livingston. I had stopped outside the park and bought some water and snacks to take with me, and lucky me, I found a great little rest area with picnic pavillions right on the Yellowstone river. Once in Livingston, I got onto I-90 and had over 250 miles still to ride to get to Missoula and it was already 3:00. Fortunately it gets dark very late this far north, and I got to the hotel around 8:00 PM, with the sun still quite high in the sky.
Tomorrow I'll go for a ride along Route 12 through Idaho and then spend the next two days with MTF folks before heading home.
This was going to be a busy day for national parks and AMA "I've Been Everywhere" photo opportunities. Fortunately, once I get onto I-25 I'll be able to make some good time. So far I've covered almost 1200 miles (Nearly 630 miles the first day and 570 miles the second day). This morning I'll be off the interstate, ridiing north out of Sidney, NE to US 26, and taking it west all the way to WY and I-25. The adventure started when I took a wrong turn 30 miles after leaving the hotel. How the heck did I manage to do that? I found myself on SR-88 heading due west. I needed to be on US 26 headed northwest. Well, it was a nice road and the view to the north was of high bluffs the entire way. I zoomed out on the GPS and could see that it would ultimately run into US 71, which goes north to Scott's Bluff.
I had planned to get Chimney Rock national monument, but this little unexpected diversion will mean I'll miss it. But there's another national park - Scott's Bluff - at the intersection of US 71 and US 26, so all was not lost. I headed straight for the cancellation station (I'd already been to this park before, ridden to the top of the bluff) and there were two older women standing there, wondering what it was. So, I pulled out my passport, showed it to them, and explained how it works, how people collect the stamps. They were enthralled! We chatted for quite a bit. One was from CA and used to work at the Yosemite national park many years ago. She now lives in OH, but really misses CA. I'll bet that before they left, one of them bought a passport.
Back on US 26, again, I could continue on track. Once in WY, this road was spectacular. Hilly, fast sweepers, very little traffic. I stopped in Fort Laramie and got the multiple national park stamps.there, and then got back on the road to continue west to I-25.
This part of the day was all about getting the miles done. The road is unremarkable and the scenery doesn't change much all the way to Buffalo WY. I needed an AMA photo of my bike, the little flag, and the town name of Buffalo clearly visible. I had researched the town on the internet, looking for something unique or unusual to use for the photograph. As luck would have it, there's a wonderful painted mural on the side of one of the buildings in the downtown area. Now, all I have to do is find it. As I entered town on Business 25, I passed a typical city limits sign, with town name, populiation, and elevation. I stopped to get a photo, just as back-up in case I don't succeed with the mural. A few blocks later, and there it was, on the right side of the street. I pulled over into a parallel parking spot, but the angle was not good. So I rode up the little dead-end side street, but trees blocked the key part of the mural, the word "Buffalo." Doing a U-turn, I stopped and thought a minute. In the meantime, one of the two cars parked in the parallel spots pulled out and drove away, leaving me a good spot to pull in and get a better angle. So I pulled out of the side street, and pulled into the spot headed the wrong direction, then jockeyed the bike so that it was more or less backed into the spot. Perfect!
Now it's back onto I-25 and head for Little Big Horn national park. More interstate, but there's a definite change in the landscape, as the elevation continues to increase, and there's more vegetation, even pine trees here and there.
Everyone told me I must ride SR-14 or 14A to get to Billings, avoid the interstate, but I really wanted to see Little Bighorn. Custer faced the same situation that Travis did at the Alamo. Both Custer and Travis and their men fought bravely to the end, in the face of overwhelming odds. I get goosebumps thinking about such bravery in the face of such terrible fighting. I was not disappointed when I arrived at the park and could see the battefield first-hand.
Now it's only 60 miles to Billings, so I have an easy remaining ride, and I arrive at the hotel at 6:30 PM. . Total for the day: 560 miles. This morning I ride down to Yellowstone, though, judging from the crowds I'm already seeing at the other parks, and the tour buses at the hotels, I'm worried about heavy traffic. We'll see.
I found myself riding past fields of emerald-green corn and thinking about my new friend Dave and his untimely demise. It raises all sorts of questions for me about motorcycling and egos, skill sets and equipment. I never did come up with any answers that would make me feel any better about losing a friend.
My day started yesterday with a successful backtrack to Wichita State University and a perfect photo opportunity. It cost me very little in time, and soon enough I was headed back north on I-135. In Salina, I turned west on I-70 for a little ways, then got off the interstate and spent much of the day on back roads riding through KS and NE. I rejoined the interstate on I-70 100 miles east of Sidney NE and my stop for the night.
Along the way, I stopped at Nicodemus national historical site. It sits on the south side of the road, and is the first freedman settlement during the reconstruction period post Civil War. Several buildings still stand, including two very old churches, dating back to the early 1880's, an old hotel, school house, and other buildings.
Further along, I turned north on a beautiful little road that took me into NE. I found a skinny little ribbon on this otherwise shoulder-less road to stop on and get a photo of the Welcome To Nebraska sign at the state line, for the AMA "I've Been Everywhere" tour. I should tell you that on some of these roads my GPS got totally lost and could not find me. I had a white question mark displayed on the screen for quite a distance. Nice to get lost!!!
Before getting to Sidney, I took a little detour down I-76 to get the Colorado state line sign, but was stymied by construction which sent traffic over to the other side of the divided highway, and I watched the sign as I passed it by, too far away and no place to stop. But all was not lost! At the exit where I intended to get off anyway, was the Colorado Visitor Center, and a perfect photo opportunity. I rode through the visitor center parking lot just to check it out, and there, parked way up on the hill in front of the welcome sign, was a KTM or KLR (not sure which) dual sport bike. As I rounded the sign, there was its owner taking photographs. I parked in front of the sign, and he walked over for a chat. He was from Quebec (wonderful heavy French accent) and is headed to the Rockies and then beyond, to do some riding. He's really a long ways from home on a bike not terribly suited for long distance riding. Nice young man and we had a great chat.
AMA photo of Colorado in the bag, I continued north on yet another pretty little road to join back up with I-80 and the short 40 miles to my exit and hotel in Sidney. Today I head west a little ways and then turn north toward Billings MT.
I left the house this morning before 8:00 AM (not sure of exact time) and made my usual first stop at exit 91 off of I-45 in Conroe. It's the perfect distance from the house to make a pit stop, top off the gas tank, and get a breakfast snack. From there it's precisely a tank's worth of gas to the Love's Truck Stop just before the I-20 Interchange outside of Dallas, the last easy off-easy on gas opportunity before the Metro-Mess).
As I was gearing up to depart the Love's near Dallas, a fellow walked by, and pointed to the black clouds off to the east. "Better have your raingear handy." I wear textiles when I ride, so don't need rain gear, but thanked him anyway.
As soon as I got onto I-30 it started to rain. By the time I took the 35E exit it was raining hard. So hard, I missed the split at 35/635 and ended up headed east on 635. I realized the mistake before the GPS so kindly pointed it out to me, but had to let an exit go by before I could work my way over into the right lane in heavy traffic and heavy rain. Oh Joy! The intersection at the underpass was under about a foot of water. But even as I sat at the light to turn left to go through that mess, the rain had let up and the water was receding rapidly.
Back on track, it was an uneventful ride up 35E to 35 and to the Oklahoma border. I saw the state welcome sign and slowed to pull onto the shoulder for my AMA "I've Been Everywhere" photo op. Got it, then pulled back onto the interstate to continue to Ardmore, the next AMA photo op stop.
My Ardmore goal was the post office one block off the main street in the little downtown area. Being new to the GPS, I had written my usual "cheat sheets" and put them into my tank bag. But my GPS gal, Jill, hasn't been wrong yet, so I'm growing to trust her some.
"Turn right at Avenue B." Correct. I turned right. "Turn right at 1st Street and then turn left." Well....I can see the old post office there on the corner, and I'm not too sure about that turning right part, but I obey, and turn right and see a small driveway tucked behind the post office building. I turned in, and find myself in the back of the post office, with loading docks and mail trucks....and parking spots. This is definitely not what I need. So I exit the post office, but I'm trapped in a maze of one-way streets and must go around the block, back onto the main street and back to Avenue B. Jill, my GPS lady, is going nuts trying to recalculate, because Ithese are small town blocks, so the turns are coming up quick. Back to the intersection fo Ave B and 1st Street, I park right in front of the post office in a no parking area (heck, it's Sunday and there is virtually no traffic) and get my photo with the Ardmore, OK name clearly visible behind the motorcycle and little AMA flag.
That done, I head back toward I-35, getting gas and grabbing a quick Burger King before hitting the highway again. I will need one more gas stop before reaching Wichita, and find a Love's just before the KS border. Next stop, a photo op in Wichita, before heading to the hotel.
I had researched and found a post office just two blocks off of I-135 on the south side of Wichita so, finding my exit, I head to the designated location, only to discover that nowhere on the building did it say "Wichita". It said United States Post Office, and it said something about a station, but not the word "Wichita." Okay, on to plan B, only there is no plan B, so I decide to just continue up the interstate until I get near the downtown area and then get off and cruise looking for a municipal building or similar. As I neared the downtown area, I spied a Kansas University Medical Center facility, but too late to take that exit so continued to the next exit and worked my way back on local streets. The parking lot was deserted, the sign was right there next to the entrance, so I pulled in, did a U-turn, and parked right at the sign and took the photo.
The hotel I'd picked out was just 4 exits up from there, so I was pulling into their lot at 6:30 PM. Not bad for 625 miles and 10.5 hours, with some dilly dally AMA photo op stops along the way. Tomorrow I head toward Selina, then onto I-70 for awhile, before getting off to ride local roads north, past Nicodemus NHS for a national park stamp, and continuing north to I-80, where I'll stop for the night in Stanley, NE.
Post-script to today's ride: The Oklahoma welcome sign is not in focus, but the flag and rearview mirror on my bike are in sharp, crisp focus. Not acceptable, as the word "Oklahoma" is not legible. I will have two more opportunities to get an Oklahoma welcome sign (here's hoping for good results!). The word "Wichita" on the medical center sign is kind of small, even though it's mostly in focus. I noticed, when I got back onto the interstate after taking that photo, that the Wichita State University campus was the next exit up, just 8 miles of backtracking from the hotel tomorrow morning and should result in a better photo.
My breakfast this morning was I-15 between St. George and Mesquite. Who needs caffeine with a road like this? If you don't know this stretch of heaven, it's high-speed canyon carving at its best!
While today wasn't filled with eye-popping scenery like the last few days, it still had its moments. I left St. George at 7:15 AM PDT (since I'd be spending most of the day in that time zone) and headed down I-15 and was immediately rewarded by the above-mentioned stretch of road (yeehaw!). From there it was all down hill, literally and figuratively. The scenery quickly became drab tan as far as the eye could see, and as I came around one curve, Las Vegas lay below me, a tan-colored city draped in a tan haze.
Traffic through the city on I-15 and I-515 was hectic, as cars zig-zagged lanes to dodge the slower-moving 18-wheelers, of which there were many. Things loosened up as I got south, and became reasonable as I neared Boulder City, that cappuccino/latte tourist mecca just west of Hoover Dam. I feared that I had somehow missed the Lake Mead NRA Visitor Center and would end up going across the dam which I did not want to do, so stopped for gas and asked the attendant, who was clueless. I rode next door to a Best Western, and the desk clerk gave me excellent directions.
The road heads downhill quickly and Lake Mead came into view in front of me. I found the visitor center, got my stamp and left just as a tour bus disgorged its German-speaking contents into the parking lot. First of two missions accomplished.
Now to head toward the second mission of the day: Mojave Desert and Kelso Depot. I backtracked on I-515 to I-215 west to pick up I-15 on the far side of Las Vegas. I could be charitable and say that the ride was interesting, but I'd be lying. All I could do was just keep the throttle open and get it over with. The temperatures were surprisingly comfortable at the higher elevations and I stayed cool all the way to Cima Road, my north entrance to Mojave Desert National Preserve.
This area of the Mojave is a veritable Joshua Tree forest! There were many fantastic mature specimens of this odd-looking tree right next to the road, where I could get a good look at them. The road was gently undulating, with modest changes of altitude. Far off in the distance all around me I could see jagged mountain peaks, and as the road took me higher, I began to see large rock outcroppings on the desert floor.
The road went on seemingly forever. It intersected with another road and the sign pointed to the right to Kelso, so I headed that way, but in the back of my mind I was second-guessing this route. After what seemed to be an eternity, I could see something way off in the distance. Perspective is distorted with desert horizons and the "something" seemed to be out there forever!
Finally I'd arrived at Kelso Depot, I got my passport stamped, and my second mission of the day is accomplished. The parking lot at Kelso Depot is gravel and there's much loose gravel kicked out onto the narrow roadway. As I exited the parking lot, I could feel the gravel squirting out from beneath my rear tire, a disconcerting feeling when you're out there in the middle of nowhere and there's no one else around. The remaining 18 miles of desolate desert seemed like an eternity. I could not get to I-40 fast enough as anxiety began to overtake my enjoyment of this part of the trip.
My plan was to continue straight another 50 or so miles to the northern entrance of Joshua Tree National Park, but it was starting to get hot and my anxious feelings were not abating. Therefore, when the entrance ramp to I-40 beckoned me, I obeyed. Those feelings of desolation, even slight dread, finally abated when I arrived at Needles CA for gas and some lunch.
The road gains altitude again as it heads north and east into AZ and the temperatures began to drop noticeably. I'd opened all of the vents on my jacket and by the time I reached Seligman AZ, I had to zip everything up, put on my jacket liner and change my gloves from mesh to solid leather. Another 40 miles east of Seligman, I decided to stop for the night at Williams AZ. I'm just 2 days' ride from home, now.
Aside from 20 minutes of bliss on I-15, this was a utilitarian day, one in which I got the much-needed CA national park stamp to get an IBA silver NPT, and added NV to the list of states. Tomorrow night, if all goes well, I should be in Amarillo TX.
Is US 89 some deep, dark secret or something, because I never hear anyone talk about this road in the same sentence with "scenic routes." This road was gorgeous! Every few miles the vistas would change, and if there was a stretch that might be a little ho-hum, it wouldn't last long. Just when I'd think the scenery had run out, a major change-up would come along and I'd be overwhelmed all over again.
It starts high up in Ponderosa forest near Flagstaff, where just a few miles north I exited to go to Sunset Crater National Monument. The ranger warned me that just beyond the visitor center the road turns to gravel all the way to Wupatki, and he didn't recommend riding it. That changed my plans a little. I stopped at the Sunset Crater visitor center, got my park stamp and on the way out, pulled over for a lovely photo op.
Continuing north on 89, the road loses some altitude as it drops down into desert. Soon enough, I began to see giant gashes in the desert floor, which revealed strange yet colorful sediment layers. As the road dropped deeper into the desert, I could see cliffs off to my right. These loomed taller, and at their feet were rounded mounds of erosion sediment, worn smooth by thousands of years of wind.
As I neared Page, AZ, the road began to climb steeply, winding around the red dark red cliffs until it popped out at the top of the mesa. As it neared the top, a vista opened up to the west that took my breath away. I could see for miles across a deep, wide canyon colored every shade of red ranging from pale beige through orange, light pink through deep burgundy.
I stopped in Page for gas and had lunch before continuing across Glen Canyon on my way to Zion 
National Park. I could see Lake Powell ahead, and soon enough, the road took me over a bridge which spanned the chasm just south of the large dam. On the other side of the bridge, I pulled in to the Carl Hayden Visitor Center to get my national park stamp. There was one other motorcycle in the parking lot and its owner was walking out just as I turned from my bike to head inside. He asked me, "Are you riding that by yourself? Are you riding by yourself? You are one brazen woman!" My answer, "Why not?"
The security is very tight at the entrance: no bags or even purses are allowed, and each visitor center must walk through a metal detector. But once inside, a wall of windows gives an excellent view out over the bridge, the dam, and the lake. Mission accomplished here, and I geared up and got back on the bike to continue north on 89 toward Kanab.
The views took a radical turn beyond this point, as I entered the Staircase-Escalante area. Giant formations, like pie wedges, jutted out into the flat desert floor on the northern side, as the road headed westerly through this area. Numerous road signs warned of deer migration areas. The vegetation through here consisted of sage and cedar, but not much else. This view remained unchanged for many miles, all the way to Kanab.
I took a break in Kanab to get gas, get a drink, before heading the last little stretch up 89 to 9 and into Zion National Park. From here, the terrain became more rugged, and the rock formations began to close in tightly along either side of the road as I headed toward Zion. Wind and weather have etched strange patterns into the limestone, almost as if they were carved by man, not by Mother Nature.
After turning onto 9 to head toward the park entrance, it was hard to imagine what was ahead, waiting for my .discovery. Soon enough I was approaching the park sign, where I pulled over to take a photo. A little ways ahead was the entrance station and beyond that, well....nearly indescribable!
The roadway began with gentle curves winding around the massive limestone formations. Each change in direction brought a new perspective and a different view of the canyon walls. There were many wildflowers and cacti in bloom, and on one 90-degree curve, I spied three longhorn sheep just to my right in a little alcove of the canyon wall.
The narrow road became progressively steeper, the downhill curves becoming tighter as it continued west through the park. It traveled through one short tunnel and soon after, I saw a sign for the next tunnel. It warned that there would be a delay, and that it was a dark tunnel, so remove sunglasses. This is not easy to do on a motorcycle while under way, so I pulled over at a turnout to do this. Just ahead, however, I could see the tunnel entrance and a ranger in the road. As I pulled up to a stop, she said it would be a 5 to 10 minute wait. I was first in line, so I stopped the engine, took off my helmet, loosened my jacket, and sat back to enjoy the view while waiting.
The tight intimacy of this roadway is in sharp contrast to the only other mountainous national park I've ever ridden through: Rocky Mountain National Park. In Zion, the road is old and very narrow. In many places the surface is beat up by weather and cars, and there is no shoulder and very few pull-out areas. The park literature says that the tunnel was cut through the mountain in the early 1900's, and was considered a remarkable feat at that time.
When it was our turn to pass through the tunnel, I was in the lead, so I was in charge! Good! I could set the pace, and chose to go slower than the 25 mph posted speed limit, so that I could catch glimpses of the view through the numerous "windows" cut into the tunnel wall to our right. A little more than midway through the tunnel, one window is very large - floor to ceiling - giving a spectacular framed view of the "east temple."
After exiting the tunnel, the road immediately becomes a series of steep switchbacks, dropping us rapidly along the wall of the "east temple" and giving us up-close views of the canyon walls as we zig-zagged down its face. Near the bottom, I found a pull-out area and stopped to take photos which, of course, cannot do it justice!
The visitor center is just before the western exit to the park, and I pulled in and cruised the very crowded parking lot, looking for a spot. At the western end of Zion, park tour buses take visitors along a scenic route not open to cars. I considered doing this, but the crowds were a deterrent, and so opted not to wait.
Passport stamped, I headed out, with St. George my destination for the night. Along the way, in a town named Hurricane, I saw a DQ sign, so pulled in. A cold drink and ice cream were just what I needed. the temps had gone from pleasant to hot and I was ready for a break. An older gentleman chatted with me about motorcycles. BMW is his favorite marque, and although he no longer rides two wheels, he does do 4-wheeling in the area. He told me the names of some of the peaks that were visible from the parking lot, and talked a bit about the changes that have come to the area.
Just a few short miles down I-15 to St. George.
