Archive for the ‘motorcycle touring’ Category

On To The Glaciers

Monday, August 6th, 2018
on a glacier

Don’t be surprised if it gets really cold when you go out on a glacier.

Starting out from Radium Hot Springs in the morning the 103-degree temps of Vernal, Utah, had given way to a cool 50s. Time to actually add an extra layer, at least for a while. The Banff-Windemere Highway passed through an impossibly narrow defile into the canyon we would go up and we climbed and climbed.

Starting out had not been uneventful, however. Jungle was having trouble getting Willie’s FJ to start. Uh oh. It turned out to be a simple fix, though. Add water to the completely dry battery. OK, we’re rolling.

These tall, jagged mountains we’d been looking at were now the tall, jagged mountains we were riding into. Then, for a long way we followed the Kootenay River up the broad, glacial valley. Here, the mountains towered above us and it was one jagged mountain after another, on and on. Some were absolutely pointed at the very top and I had a need to understand this topography.

It turns out that back during a distant ice age, this entire area was buried under thousands of feet of snow and ice. Most of these mountains were completely buried, with just a few of the very tallest poking a bit of their peaks above. The snow was compressed into ice and became a glacier and followed the path of least resistance downhill. Along the way, over the centuries, the glacier cut away the sides of the buried mountains, leaving a broad, U-shaped valley. That explains why on the side of the mountains facing the valley they are steep and sheer. Cut away the side of a cone and you end up with something similar.

On and on we went, along the river and past numerous lakes. We stopped for lunch at Bow Lake, which Willie tells us is like Lake Louise 40 years ago, which is to say, quiet and undeveloped.

Then we started climbing. And climbing. At this point Judy was feeling the consequences of wearing her mesh jacket and I was zipping closed the vents in my leather jacket. The sky was also growing gray and threatening. But then we arrived at the day’s destination, the Glacier View Inn, right across the road from the Athabasca Glacier. Our rooms were not ready yet so we stashed our gear and went on our planned glacier tour.

Glaciers are very cool, in more ways than one. They took us up there in vehicles with huge tires and geared so that when we went down one slope that was a 37 percent grade it just acted like this was the most normal thing in the world. And it got cold out on the glacier. Some people were wearing shorts and flip-flops. Some people perceive cold a little differently than I do.

Biker Quote for Today

Life, five gallons at a time.

Canada And A Casualty: The Interceptor

Thursday, August 2nd, 2018
motorcycle breakdown by the road

I observe while Jungle works to figure out why his Interceptor died.

When we arrived in Philipsburg we hooked up with Debbie and Craig, friends of Willie and Jungle and Terry. When we took off the next day they came along on a Harley Craig had rented. He hadn’t had a bike for about 10 years but this was too good an excursion to pass up.

It was fortunate for us because these locals knew of a great road that kept us off the interstate and shaved miles off our route. We continued north out of Philipsburg on Montana 1 but when we hit I-90 again at Drummond we followed the frontage road east a few miles, then crossed under I-90 and headed north on the Helmville Road. We cruised up a canyon to a high open area till we took a left turn onto Montana 141. This ran us up to Montana 200, which runs west toward Missoula.

At Clearwater we turned north on Montana 83 and passed lakes and tons of scenic beauty. Further along we continued north on Montana 35 and then Montana 206. If you’ve ever approached Glacier National Park from the west, this may have been the route you took.

Just west of the park entrance we turned west on Montana 40 over to Whitefish–our day’s destination. Here we met up with another of Willie and Jungle’s friends, who had driven over from Portland, Oregon, just to see them for dinner, and also the daughter of friends we would see later in the trip. This daughter owns eight ice cream shops in the region so we gave her local establishment some business.

Tomorrow Canada.

Next morning, saying farewell to Debbie and Craig, we left the motel in Whitefish, Montana, and make our way through a chaotic town led to chaos with the group. Some of us would not make it through a light and then would pass the ones who did and had pulled over. But we finally made it out of town and started eating miles.

We continued west and then north on U.S. 93 alongside a river and through forests punctuated with lakes. North and west, north and west, till we reached Eureka and stopped for (relatively cheap) gas in the U.S. for the last time. Then eight miles north to Roosville and the border. No, we’re not bringing in any guns or alcohol (some did have alcohol!) and in half an hour we were in Canada.

Then it was north on British Columbia 93, the Kootenay Highway, and a good, fast highway it was. North and west and north and west and then Jungle coasted to a stop in no specific spot. His Interceptor had just quit. Jungle is a mechanic, so he got out some tools and went to work. It didn’t take long to determine his stator had died. This was not the first time on this bike.

Fortunately the town of Cranbrook was not too far away but we needed Terry, in her Porsche, to give Jungle a ride, and she had blasted on ahead because she likes speed and gets impatient following a bunch of bikes going the speed limit.

And then Terry pulled up. She had taken a wrong turn and by the time she was back on the right road we had passed her, and here she was. Jungle loaded his bags into her car and off we went. We handed Jungle off to a Honda dealer in Cranbrook and went on our way to the day’s destination, Radium Hot Springs, British Columbia. Meanwhile, Willie called our motel and asked them to tell Mario, another friend, when he arrived, to run down to Cranbrook to pick up Jungle. Mario lives in the Yukon and had flown down to Calgary and rented a car to join us for three days.

With Jungle tending to his bike, I was in the lead, but at a gas stop that took too long, Jean in her Slingshot and Donna on her Star Silverado went on ahead. The rest of us followed shortly afterward but arriving in Radium we reached an intersection and didn’t realize our road turned right. Going straight, Judy and I quickly realized our error and, seeing a good place to turn around, did so. I motioned to Willie to turn around as we passed them. We made what was now a left and soon found our motel. But where were Donna and Jean? I went in the office while Judy stood out by the road to flag the others and soon enough, Donna and Jean pulled up. Seems they made the same mistake we did but did not figure it out as quickly.

And then the rest of them did not show up. After too long, Donna called Willie and they were waiting back at the turnaround, apparently thinking Judy and I would come back for them after we found the motel. Which I was just about to do when Judy told me Donna had spoken to Willie.

About an hour later, Mario arrived with Jungle. This was Thursday and the shop would not have the stator till Tuesday. So for the next three days Willie would ride with Mario in his car and Jungle would lead the group on Willie’s FJ1100. More than that was yet to be resolved because on Tuesday we were to be back nearly to Yellowstone. What to do?

Biker Quote for Today

I ride, therefore I am (relaxed, happy, free).

And Now Into Montana

Monday, July 30th, 2018

Day 3 broke cloudy and cooler and was much more bearable. First off, however, JC needed an oil change for his new Slingshot at 600 miles to Yuki had picked up the oil and filter and made an appointment to have it done in Rexburg. He met JC at 7 a.m. and led him over there–and hour away–while the rest of us slept in. Then we got on the road and met JC and Yuki in Ashton. Yuki, you’re a good man.

Welcome to Montana sign

From Idaho into Montana.

U.S. 20 took us north until it started bending east toward West Yellowstone, at which point we turned west and north on Idaho 87. That brought us to U.S. 287 and lunch time found us in Ennis, Montana, where it became necessary to make a stop at Willie’s Distillery. You will recall, of course, that Willie–our Willie–was the organizer of this trip. And we had lunch, too.

From Ennis we needed to get to Butte, and the best, most direct route would have been on Montana 359, but Jungle was so focused on the cars in front of him slowing to make the turn onto that road that he did not see the signs and so we blew on past. Judy and I noted this and presumed he had not been confident that this small road was paved all the way and had decided to go a little further to catch Montana 2 to join I-90 at Cardwell. When Jungle, who we later learned was still looking for 359, got to the left-right option at Montana 2 and turned right–the wrong way–I ran up close on his rear flashing my brights but he just kept on going.

Truth be told, there was nowhere at all on this little two-lane with no shoulder at all where we could have pulled over or safely gotten four bikes and two Slingshots turned around. So I settled in behind him knowing highway 2 would also hit I-90 at Three Forks Junction, just adding 25 miles to our ride. This, of course, on top of the extra 10 miles added by not turning onto 359.

Interstate 90 west to Butte was brutal but we finally reached exit 208 to Anaconda, where we were supposed to have met Terry, who had gone ahead in her Porsche (and had not missed the turns). Of course she was not still waiting; we had called her and told her we would be late.

We were now on Montana 1 headed to our day’s destination, Philipsburg. But our hassles weren’t over. We came upon road work and waited awhile in what was now about the hottest sun we’d encountered all day and once we got going we found we were facing nearly 15 miles of fresh chip seal. As in mucho, mucho loose gravel and absolutely no way to avoid it. But passing through some beautiful country on a very twisty road. I strongly recommend this route any time they’re not doing a chip seal.

We finally got past the road work and on to Philipsburg, a very nice old town enjoying a rejuvenation, and stayed in the beautifully renovated Kaiser House hotel where, at Willie’s direction, Terry had arranged a spread of wines and cheeses and sausage and crackers awaiting us.

What a relief to shed the leathers and dive in.

Biker Quote for Today

I don’t have a bucket list but my bike-it list is pretty long.

Into Idaho On Day Two

Thursday, July 26th, 2018
motorcycles and Slingshots

Stopping for the night at Driggs, Idaho.

Starting out Day 2 we cruised over to the canyon overlooks by the Flaming Gorge Visitor Center before heading to Manila for breakfast. The Red Canyon Lodge serves dinner but not breakfast so we got going pretty quickly this morning. The route was a bit further north on U.S. 191 then left onto Utah 44.

From Manila we headed northwest on Utah 43 to the state line and then Wyoming 414 to Mountain View, under I-80, and on north on Wyoming 412 to U.S. 189 and north to Kemmerer.

At Kemmerer Jungle made a mistake the rest of us appreciated when he passed U.S. 30 and took us almost into town. There was a gas station so we stopped for gas. Relief! By this time it was starting to be clear that the rest of us like to stop and get off the bikes more frequently than the 125-150 miles Jungle seems to prefer. So starting at Kemmerer we took more frequent gas stops even though nobody was truly low on gas.

And yes, once again it was blazing hot. I’ve learned that I need Gatorade or something of that sort to ward of dehydration on days like this so Kemmerer got a little more sales tax out of me.

We went back the very short distance to U.S. 30 and followed it past Cokeville almost to the Idaho state line, where we picked up the north-south Wyoming 89 that serves as a shortcut around Montpelier, Idaho. Then we joined U.S. 89 on north into Wyoming’s beautiful Star Valley.

Past Afton, to Thayne, and a little beyond and we came to a very important stop, an ice cream shop we had been told about. The Old Mill Ice Cream shop serves single scoops that are as big as the double scoops you get most places. And everyone knows how important ice cream is when you’re traveling on motorcycles.

From there we continued north to Alpine, and Alpine Junction, where U.S. 26 took us northwest into Idaho and along the shore of Palisades Reservoir, which was one heck of a great ride. Absolutely gorgeous.

Once past the lake we turned northeast on Idaho 31 to Victor and then Idaho 33 to Driggs. We checked into our motel, had badly needed showers, and then spent the rest of the evening in the large, luxurious mobile home of Willie and Jungle’s friend Yuki, who lives in Driggs. This is a thing about traveling with Willie and Jungle. People they know come join you for a while and then peel off. We’ll meet a lot more of their friends along the way.

Yuki provided beer and wine, a variety of munchies, and we got so settled in we canceled our dinner reservation and sent a team out for a couple pizzas.

Two hard days under our belts and we’re having a great time.

Biker Quote for Today

Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long.

Headed Out On A Two-Week Canada Ride

Monday, July 23rd, 2018
motorcycles and Slingshots

Our vehicles. From left, Silverado, Slingshot, Concours, Slingshot, Interceptor, FJ1100. The Carrera 2 is not in the picture.

We got away from Willie and Jungle’s place in Eagle not even an hour later than planned–not bad for eight people in/on seven vehicles. Destination: Banff and Jasper.

The line-up as we left, which remained largely the same through much of the trip, was Jungle in the lead on his Honda Interceptor, Judy and me on my Concours, followed by Donna on her Star Silverado. Then came Jean, Donna’s sister, in a Polaris Slingshot she rented. I say “in” because as far as I’m concerned, that thing is a three-wheeled car, not a motorcycle. And in Colorado this last legislative session, they created a new vehicle class for this sort of thing, called “autocycle.”

Next was JC in his own Slingshot. Brand new, just delivered the day before and already the speedometer doesn’t work. JC had been planning to ride his Harley but he was taken by the thought of Jean’s Slingshot so he tried to rent one, too. They didn’t have any more so he said, “OK, sell me one.” They didn’t have any to sell either so he called a dealer in Denver, bought it, and had it delivered to Vail.

Following JC was Terry in her Porsche Carrera 2, and Willie rode sweep on her Yamaha FJ1100.

That was the crew as we headed west on I-70 through Glenwood Canyon to Rifle and then north on Colorado 13 to County Road 5, which skirts west and north avoiding Meeker, and up to Colorado 64, where we turned west to Rangely and on to Dinosaur, where we picked up U.S. 40. Then west to Vernal. All this way it was blazing hot and in Vernal it was 103 degrees. We were being cooked!

At Vernal we turned north on U.S. 191 to a turn-off for the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area and also the Red Canyon Lodge, our destination for the day. The coolness at this higher elevation was much appreciated and the forest setting of the lodge made for a great stopping point.

The two folks in the Slingshots couldn’t rave enough about how much fun they were having in those things.

Me, I was just glad Judy and I were doing well on the Concours. We haven’t done a lot of long-distance rides together so I had been a bit apprehensive. But we did great. That’s a good thing because we had 12 more days and about 3,000 more miles ahead of us.

Biker Quote for Today

I love to ride; I hate to arrive.

The Down Side Of Being Out There

Thursday, July 19th, 2018
bison on road in Yellowstone

Bison on the road in Yellowstone, as a motorcyclist looks on.Photo by Gary France

One of the sweetest joys of riding a motorcycle is being out there in the world you’re passing through. That’s as opposed to being enclosed in a steel cage, peering out through a windshield that limits your view, shut off from the smells and other sensory inputs of the world around you.

And then you throw buffalo into the mix.

I was in Yellowstone National Park awhile back, and if there is one thing you can count on for sure in Yellowstone it is getting held up along the road by people stopping to photograph wildlife. Some pull over, while others stop in the middle of the road. Sometimes the animals themselves stop the traffic because they are roaming free and have decided to roam right there on the road.

So why does a buffalo cross the road? To get to the other side? Perhaps. And if you’re in a car and they’re crossing right in front of you, you’ve got some separation from that 1,500-pound critter with those pointy horns. It’s a little dicier when you’re on a bike.

There I was, in a mass of traffic intermingled with numerous “Bison bison” (the official Latin name for the beast). It wasn’t a threatening situation but I would have had to have been asleep not to be conscious of my vulnerability. Suppose one of those bulls suddenly feels threatened, or a protective cow gets worried about her young’un. Let’s just say I was very alert. And I made sure not to make direct eye contact with any of the big ones because I’ve heard that they consider that a challenge.

That may not have been the case with another motorcycle tourer I’m familiar with. Gary France is a Brit who some years ago took an American odyssey on a rented Harley-Davidson. Gary, who had been in Sturgis at the same time I was, also headed on to Yellowstone about the same time I did. He also found himself stopped on the road by buffalo, and he describes what happened next:

“The big bull gets most of the way across the road . . . and then turns back right in front of us! He seemed a bit upset and was snorting . . . he was about 10 feet away from me, when I looked sideways and saw the other two bikers getting off their bikes preparing to retreat . . . I kept taking pictures as I wondered what to do . . . I too then retreated. A park ranger in a car came driving up and put his car between the bull and us. He with the aid of his megaphone (told) the three of us to move even further back and get into a car. Any car.”

It all ended well, but you get the picture. I can’t help but wonder what it must have been like to visit Yellowstone on a motorcycle years ago, back in the days when bears used to hang out along the roads hoping that tourists would feed them. You almost never see bears in Yellowstone now, because management policies have been changed to discourage them from coming around, but I’d feel a lot more insecure meeting a bear on the road than a buffalo.

It kind of puts a different spin on the term, “a walk in the park,” doesn’t it?

Biker Quote for Today

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.