Passes & Canyons Blog

This seems like a good time to share some thoughts I’ve had about riding motorcycles in Canada, vs. riding in the U.S., where I normally find myself. I just finished telling about our two-week trip to British Columbia and Alberta and there were definitely some things that struck me on that trip.

First off, of course, is the fact that they measure distances up there in kilometers rather than miles. This is something you have to keep in mind as you read road signs. Else, you’re going to say to yourself, “Dang, another 80 miles to (wherever)” and then you’ll be amazed just 20 minutes later when another sign says “(wherever) 50”–you know you weren’t cruising at 90 mph.

But that sort of thing actually doesn’t happen too frequently. That’s because the Canadians do not sprinkle road signs as liberally across the landscape as we do. As far as I can make out, they put a distance sign out there only when the road you are on has intersected another highway, and they’re informing the folks newly turned onto this road how far things are. And if you don’t intersect any other highways you can go 90 miles or more with no sign at all. You start wondering how much further it is but they’re not about to tell you. You need to look at your odometer when you see a sign, do a quick calculation, and then try to remember what that odo reading should be when you get there.

Also, they don’t have mile/kilometer markers. You might figure, well, it was 50 kilometers away when we were at marker 164 and now we’re at marker 184. So you would know how far you’ve gone. But no, no markers.

And then, even if you do keep in mind that they’re talking kilometers, you have to translate your mph speed into km/h. Most speedometers do have both km and mph displays but one thing I learned about my Concours is that while mph is easily readable in white lettering, km/h is in a shade of blue that is absolutely invisible unless the light is hitting the console from exactly the right angle. By the time I finally figured out that I ought to take a good look at some point and memorize what, for instance, 80km/h is in mph, we were already back in the U.S. Next time.

Another difference is that Canadians measure gasoline (do they call it petrol?) in liters, not gallons. The first time you see a gas station sign listing the going price as $1.47 you’re inclined to wonder how the price can be that low. Then you realize it’s liters, and there are nearly four liters in a gallon, so the price is really close to $5.50 for one gallon of gas. Ouch!

Biker Quote for Today

Sometimes I ride to forget, but I never forget to ride.

Judy and I were facing a hard day’s ride this day. Not having gone to Red Lodge as we sort of planned to, we really needed to cover ground.

We blasted on I-90 to Columbus, where we went south on Montana 78. The wind was also blasting so this was the windiest day we had had so far. I had been on Montana 78 once, going north, and Judy remarked correctly that it was a lot prettier going south because that way you have mountains in front of you. We figured that to make it a long distance we needed to stop often, even if only for a few minutes, so we stopped both in Columbus and Red Lodge.

From Red Lodge it was east to Belfry on Montana 308, then south on Montana 72 into Wyoming, where the road became Wyoming 120. South on 120 to Cody (gas stop in Cody) and on south, to Meeteetse (stop for lunch) and to Thermopolis (rest stop).

At Thermopolis we picked up U.S. 20 and followed it south to Shoshoni, then south west on U.S. 26 to Riverton (long rest stop). South out of Riverton we turned southeast on the easy to miss Wyoming 135, which was the start of the really brutal part of the ride. But first the road went up a hill/mesa where we got a fabulous view of the valley and mountains to the west of us. Then it was into the heart of Wyoming’s desert.

At the intersection with U.S. 287 we stopped at the rest area and observed the chip seal going on in both directions on 287. Oh crap. Seeing at one point that the line of cars that had come the way we had come was going to get to move, we hurried to gear up and join them but were just too late. Time to sit, no longer in the shade, for 15 minutes. I guess I didn’t mention that the weather had once again turned blazing hot.

Once we were able to move, we were delighted to find that the chip seal was only going on for about half a mile in our direction. We lucked out there. But then it was a long drone across this barren wasteland in the center of the state. I’ve been across this numerous times and it is never pleasant. Amazingly, the map shows it as a “scenic route.” Someone has a different definition of “scenic” than I do.

The map also showed another rest stop midway between the junction and Rawlins so we planned to stop there but there was no such thing so we rode on the last 80 miles with no breaks. Getting in to Rawlins we were dismayed to find that although the town has many big motels, they were all full. Fortunately a woman at one where we asked looked on her computer and told me the Best Western at the other end of town had two rooms left and they were the last in town. She very nicely went ahead and made our reservation for us and by the time we actually got there the other room had been taken. We didn’t even know what we were paying but we didn’t care. We had ridden 430 hard miles that day and for us that is a lot. We don’t have iron butts.

Heading home the next day, it was going to be a relatively easy day so we didn’t hurry to get going. When we hit the road it didn’t seem windy heading east on I-80 but as soon as we turned south on Wyoming 130 we realized we had simply had a nice tailwind. Now it was a crosswind, and it didn’t let up until we were climbing Berthoud Pass south of Winter Park.

We cruised through Saratoga and stopped at Riverside for gas. Then on to Walden on Wyoming 230, which became Colorado 125 when we crossed the state line. A quick rest stop in Walden and on south on 125 over Willow Creek Pass. I’ve been over Willow Creek Pass several times but have never thought it was grand enough to put on the website but I’ve changed my mind now. This is not a high pass, it’s definitely a minor pass, but it is quite nice and there is almost no development along the way. Just a bunch of hills and forests and streams. Worth the ride for sure. OK, add that to my to-do list.

The road comes out on U.S. 40 just west of Granby so east we went on 40. Got gas in Granby, stopped for lunch in Winter Park, and then over Berthoud Pass and down to I-70 after an ice cream stop in Empire. Then I-70 down the mountain, C-470 south to U.S. 285, east on 285, which becomes Hampden, a right turn, a left turn, and a curve to the right and we were home.

Altogether, 3,310 miles. Great trip. Great to be home. Now tomorrow I’m leaving on the OFMC trip with the guys for another eight days. I’ll take the V-Strom on this one.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding is my meditation, mind flush, cosmic telephone, mood elevator, and spiritual communion.

After breakfast at the grand old Prince of Wales Hotel we left Waterton and got back on Alberta 6 to the border. Judy and I had dressed somewhat warmly anticipating cool temps later on the Going to the Sun Highway. But sitting in the sun waiting our turn I thought I would suffer heat stroke. Called forward (and into the shade!) we were thrilled when the border guy looked at our passports and looked at us and said he couldn’t see our faces clearly enough. We’d have to remove our helmets. Oh, please don’t throw me in that briar patch! That felt sooo good. After leaving customs we peeled off all extra layers.

Montana 17 and then U.S. 89 took us down to St. Mary and the east entrance to Glacier National Park. Traffic was relatively light here on the east side of Logan Pass. The one big difference from the OFMC had been here in 1966 was that they had had a big forest fire. With the trees burned you could see a lot more but what you could see was not as beautiful.

Over the top of Logan Pass and down the other side it was a total traffic jam. The road itself is beautiful, similar in ways to Independence Pass in Colorado, but longer. A narrow, twisting road hugging the hillside with sheer drops on the cliff side. And so crowded.

We made it out of the park and turned south on Montana 206, the road we had come up on five days before, then Montana 35 to Big Fork, our stop for the night.

The following day, Tuesday, Judy and I needed to split off from the group and blast home. Shooting to reach Denver on Thursday, I was scheduled to leave on Friday with the OFMC for our yearly ride.

We cut over from Big Fork back to Montana 83 and went south alongside Swan Lake to Clearwater and Montana 200. Then east to Montana 141, all of this retracing our route coming up. Past the Helmville Road, however, it was new road and 141 took us to Montana 142 at Avon. Past Avon we were soon forced to stop and put on rain gear for the first time this trip. Another 25 miles, in Helena, we stopped to peel it off. Continuing on U.S. 12, now also U.S. 287, we reached Townsend, and stayed on 12 going east and leaving 287.

A beautiful ride through the hills took us to U.S. 89, where we went north to White Sulphur Springs, after which the two highways split and we continued east on U.S. 12. At this point we were dodging the interstate. We could have made better time on I-90 but instead did more miles going east on 12 all the way to Harlowton. We probably didn’t see 15 cars all the way from Townsend to Harlowton, but we did see three motorcycles.

At Harlowton we turned south on U.S. 191 to Big Timber and our stop for the night.

Biker Quote for Today

Riding is not about being different, it’s about being yourself.

In the morning we completed our glacier-sky walk tour by going to the sky walk—which had been totally enveloped in a cloud the evening before—and then headed north to Jasper. The glacial valley and glacially carved peaks continued to inspire awe.

But there were entire mountains of red, dead pine trees. A major fire waiting to happen. Jasper was our furthest point from home and it’s all heading back from here. Jasper was your basic tourist town so we got lunch to go and headed back south to Wapatka Falls to eat. Then south past the glaciers, past Bow Lake, to Lake Louise, our stop for the night.

The next day, Terry and JC got up extra early and took her Porsche about 70 miles back the other way to do a 9 a.m. helicopter ride over the icefields, glaciers, and the valley. They would meet up with us at our day’s destination, Waterton Lakes National Park, on the Canadian side of the border from Glacier National Park. Meanwhile, Mario, with Willie in his car the last three days, went ahead with Willie, dropped her off at Waterton, and headed to Calgary to fly home to the Yukon. So there were only four vehicles in our train today.

The rest of us headed south and then east, crossing the width of Glacier National Park but to the north, on the Canadian side. By this time, Jean’s Slingshot was making a horrible squealing and we feared we might lost another vehicle. But she called the rental people and they said yeah, it may do that, just stop at a Polaris dealer to have it checked and we’ll cover the cost.

We started out on Canada 1, the Trans-Canada Highway, which is basically like our interstates. However, after only about 40 miles we turned off on Kananaskis Trail, Alberta 40, headed south and oh my gosh! Let’s just say Canada has no shortage of incredible motorcycle roads. And the bikers know it. Calgary is not far away, it was a gorgeous day, and it was Sunday so the bikers were out doing this loop by the hundreds. At one point we had five Spyders in front of us, then our three bikes and one Slingshot, two more Spyders, a pick-up truck, and then six more bikes behind that guy. And that was as far back as I could see. I found it necessary to invoke the Sturgis rule, which is that when there are more bikes on the road than cars, you stop waving at each other.

Alberta 40 finally turned east and came down out of the mountains, ending at Longview, where we picked up Alberta 22. On this Sunday afternoon the numerous restaurants and bars in Longview were doing huge business with an amazing number of bikers.

Alberta 22 took us way, way south to Alberta 3 at Lundbreck and we turned east, then south on Alberta 6, then Alberta 5 took us into the park. The town of Waterton is one of those great old towns now totally engulfed by tourism. And, of course, a gorgeous spot.

Biker Quote for Today

Do you know why your windshield is so large and your rear-view mirror is so small? Because your past is not as important as your future. Look ahead and ride on.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.