Travels with Stella! 2 A Great American Ride--Out West

[Dr. Strangelove]

It became time to leave southern Utah. There was one site I had planned on visiting, but didn't and that was Zion. Just didn't have time, and, when I was at Bryce I was parked next to a guy who had ridden from Ontario on his FJR. We talked and he said he had been to Zion the day before and it was over 100 degrees. At the same time it was in the low 70s at Bryce. So, I leave Zion for another time and head up US 89 toward the north east. 89 is an interesting road, very scenic and passing through semi abandoned towns. I have a good friend who loves to photograph abandoned houses and she would really spend some time here, I know, but again it was time to move.





I remember a particular town just south of Marysvale that looked like an abandoned movie set, houses, old storefronts, overgrown gas stations with Regular at 102.9. I should've stopped.

But 89 brings me to some small very living towns also, including Ephraim with The Satisfied Ewe diner where I had a humongous chili burger because it was 11:10 and breakfast was not served after 11 and 16 year old Sarah who would be a junior next year, and didn't really have any college plans except for wanting to go "east," and was spending her first day of summer working the counter at the Ewe would not break any rules, especially those hard and fast rules about the proper time for breakfast and the proper time for lunch. So, it was a chili burger, and coffee.





Riding from Ephraim I happen onto this area



riding up 89 to 31 to 264 to 96 it puts me there

big coal mines here, but mostly wild beautiful scenery and wonderful roads, though around the staging areas for the coal depots it was a little slippery.



The red rocks are gone. Eventually I pull into Duchesne and camp at nearby Starvation State Park, yes, Starvation. Don't know the history here, but I was the only one and pitched the tent overlooking a lake.

That evening I remember waking during the night and looking outside and seeing the summer Milky Way a glistening stripe overhead.

Next morning, rising and shining, shoving instant oatmeal down the gullet, drinking very hot too strong coffee, I am on my way and will this afternoon hit Wyoming, and back into Utah and back into Wyoming and then Idaho for a while along Bear Lake, just to say I've been there, and then back into Wyoming.







and stopping for the evening in Thayne, Wyoming, there being no campground I could find in Smoot, Wyoming

[Dr. Strangelove]

The next morning I try to get an early start because I am trying to get to Red Lodge Montana and have to traverse Yellowstone. Yellowstone is a beautiful place. Yellowstone is a unique place on the planet. Yellowstone is home to many species of flora and fauna. Yellowstone can be a pain in the ass if you are not planning on stopping there.
I have been to Yellowstone twice, no, 3 times and I think I have seen all the wonders that she has to offer. The wonder that I chose not to see this time around is the traffic. But to get from A to B in the NW part of Wyoming some travel through Yellowstone is necessary. So, to get from anywhere around the Tetons to Beartooth or Chief Joseph, the road through Yellowstone is pretty much a must, out of necessity.

But before the potential horrors of Yellowstone, the Tetons will titillate.

on the way in































The traffic in Yellowstone did not disappoint. My plan was to get out as soon as possible and that meant going out the south east approach on US 14/16/20 toward Cody. Upon entering the park there was a very long line of stopped traffic; stopped for construction that always seems to be occurring somewhere in the park. This time it's at the entrance and it straddles the entrance gate just to make the degree of difficulty 4.7 on the 5 point Morgagni Nuisance scale. And this was very special construction, soft wet gravel with stop and go...for a few miles...with big tour busses up ahead... and large road building equipment beep beep beeping in and out. Lovely.

Fortunately I could just ride the transient nature of Man's efforts and the "improvements" mercifully ended around West Thumb. Also, it seems most of the traffic was headed the other way so I soon found myself in pretty clean traffic skirting partly frozen lakes on the first day in a while that my rain suit did not make an appearance. I had found the damn road less taken! Time to regain the Peace of Shiprock that seemed so long ago.




The East approach was gorgeous. I had not been that way before and it was different than other areas of the park, Alpine. And I think it was the Teton Range that could be viewed in the distance. And it was here that I realized it. Well into the trip I realized that this, this whole thing, so far from home on this red machine, aluminum and steel and rubber and hydrocarbons, 600 lbs of it, this, doing this, was soooooo coooool! You've all felt it. I am not unique in that feeling, I know that, but whenever it happens it always produces the same silly grin whether you're 16 or 60. And the memory, the taste, the scent of that grin never fades; it is only embellished with each telling of "how you did it." A corollary of this feeling is the not bonding, something different, but similar with the bike. You are so dependent on it and it is nothing without you, and it just keeps on keeping on. It is sooooo cooool ! "People" cannot fathom the ride, the long hours, days of contemplation, dealing with Nature on her terms and that little machine, that now sits in your driveway or carport or basement, brought you there and back. It's all pretty amazing, though it is just engineering, maintenance and physics, there is more: there is art and reliance and metaphysics. The engine is cold now, is quiet now, but still you go to the garage or carport or basement and just check her out, just kind of look at linkages and treads, grips and pedals, touching a scratch and thinking that was Monarch pass that did that. But that's why these machines have names so often. They are personified, quite rightly, because you and it went through a lot, and you both so enjoyed it.




The road to Cody was very pretty also, sweepers mostly, very little traffic and fast.













I arrive in Red Lodge, Mt. and meet June and Jerry from Vancouver traveling on a silver ST1300. We compare notes, both travelers from very distant cities happening together here and sharing the same passion for the ride.

Tomorrow Beartooth and Chief Joseph Scenic Highway...stay tuned

John

[michaelb1]

This thread keeps getting better.
Well Done!

[bobw]

Your photography is first rate. You captured the "feel" of the region and that can be a challenge. Thanks again for sharing your ride with us.

Safe travels!

Bob

[Dr. Strangelove]

First thanks for the kudos

Second sorry it took a little while to get y'all back on the road and I have an excuse: the other night I was in house and on call and was doing the latest installment when we had a severe thunderstorm. Power went out and although the hospital's generators went on after a couple of VERY DARK seconds, I lost the entry--about 1 and a half hours worth! I hate when that happens. So, let's try it again.

As I said, or think I said, Red Lodge, Mt. was a neat little town. It is a ski resort and there are lots of young people and a lesser amount of retirees. And, germane to this post, it is the place from which I started the best few days of the entire trip though I didn't know that at the time.
I was in the Let's Do It mode and amazed that the little red machine had gotten me so far so reliably--and for those who ride other marques this is not a bash at all, but, well, I said it a couple of pages back, I think. You guys to whom this type of a trip is old hat can nod, but for a newbie to this it's really pretty amazing to be so far from home on a motorcycle, alone.

So I pull out of Red Lodge and snap a picture of the mural below--sorry about the truck



The shadows are still long in the morning as I begin the ascent



but ascend I do, a lot...













I do not have the road to myself, but traffic is very manageable and I stopped so many times that passing slower cars was neither a problem nor a priority, it was a "cool" ride.









The snow banks at roadside eventually got to be about 6 feet high, but there was no place to stop to snap that and because of their height they limited long scanning of the road ahead--I couldn't just stop, safely, to get the shot.











After the summit of Beartooth the road descends into beautiful alpine scenery







and then opens to the view that gives the road its name, The Beartooth (range) itself.



The Beartooth Highway was most certainly wow inducing, but the second part of this double feature is achieved by a simple left turn on to the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway. These are easliy two of my favorite roads on the whole trip. There were others that were twistier and other worldly, there were those that were challenging and fast, but for just the sheer fun of riding, these two are on a very short list (others making that list--Utah 12, those roads in Utah through the coal mining area, and two you have yet to see, Needles Highway and Old Mountain road in the Black Hills).

An aside:
I am a southern boy, born and raised in New Orleans. My contact with "native" America was limited to the history books in school. I have traveled the West before, but as you know, travel on two wheels (bicycle or motorcycle) is different. It gives you an intimacy with the road and the terrain and nature like nothing else. Because of that intimacy, it was so easy to understand how the people who lived there over the centuries would feel so much a part of the Land and the Sky and the Wildlife. Yes, I most certainly am a Johnny Come Lately to this, but better late than never, right? And, No, I am not wearing a "dream catcher," or anything turquiose, or silver, but man, there is a feel to being "out there" in the quiet, hearing the wind, feeling the sun, seeing greens and browns and grays and blues that is more powerful than any Xanax. Creating memories and feelings as strong or stronger than any shiny blue bike under a Christmas Tree. You can feel yourself becoming part of the physical world in a metaphysical way. Even if you are stopped for a leg stretch or a bathroom break or a Cliff Bar, the quiet, and the solitude just has its way with you and you like it. You feel a part of it, not a part that can really make a difference, not that you'd care to, but just along for the ride on the big wheel that goes round and round. You look around and except for the things that are immediate to you--the bike, the asphalt, the textile clothing--this same air, this same green, this same sky was experienced in exactly the same way for thousands of years by thousands of people who felt the same way--or that's what I think. And that part sinks in a bit, and never leaves you. It leaves a mark, a tattoo, that causes a smile whenever you happen on to those neurons that have stored that memory.

end of aside.
So Chief Joesph Scenic Byway begins and it is more gentle than the Beartooh, but just as spectauclar.
Who was Chief Joseph? This link may help.

http://www.pbs.org/weta/thewest/people/ ... joseph.htm

The road that bears his name was part of that 1400 mile route he and his people took











This sculpture marks the highest point along the whole route






I had looked at my maps the evening before and realized I had an extra day and so decided to head to Little Bighorn, and a very good decision that, but first there was a lot of Wyoming to traverse and that brings us to Byron, Wyoming. I am sure you know Byron? You know, west of Lovell? You know, where the speed limit drops from 65 to 30? Where Officer Friendly is out with his revenue inducing radar gun? oh, you may not know it as Byron, you may know it as Spunk, Nevada, or Dry Prong, Louisiana, or Gas, Kansas, but you know it. The place where...oh,hell, now is as good a time as any...

[GypsyRR]

I just started reading your report. Very nice. The photos are great, and the text is is equally good. That was an ambitious route you picked. Did you feel rushed at all? Any place you wished you could have stayed a little longer?

This photo looks like you are on top of the world!




As many times as I've been to Wyoming, I've never ridden Beartooth or Cheif Joseph Byways. I came close to doing so last year, but construction in W Yellowstone prevented it. Maybe this year. I'll be following your report to see what other roads I need to explore.

And I think you should get yourself some turquoise or a dream catcher now. It sounds like you could wear/display it honorably. Thanks for the report. I'm following.

[michaelb1]

Looks like high country. What were the temps like? Did you freeze at night?

[michaelb1]

First thanks for the kudos




..

I really like the bike pics. You have to do a post detailing your gear load out.
Beings that I depart in 6 days for my trip I'd love to see your take on what the essentials and 'nice to have's' are.

Here's all the stuff I'm taking. Can't beleive I fit it on the bike: http://michaelbrashier.blogspot.com/200 ... -lady.html

[Dr. Strangelove]

first, Kristi,

having now had time to think about your question, I find the places I think about and the episodes of the ride are these:
Riding across northern Wyoming on 14/14A was the essence of what a long distance ride means to me. It was long, quiet, alone--not lonely--and starkly beautiful. It was far far away from "things." Not that I wouldn't want to share the experience, but that was the high point, starting in Cody, up to Red Lodge, then Beartooth, CJH, and 14A and then the Bighorn Range. This was followed by Little Bighorn and Devil's Tower, Alladin and Needles highway.

I cannot say if I want to stay in those areas longer, but they were wonderful to ride through. The one place I wanted to explore was Kansas. I know that sounds weird, but there were little towns--like Fort Scott, that looked to be on their last legs, though I may be worng about that, but it looked that way. And when I was leaving and traveling through the rolling farmland that is Ks 7 south toward Baxter Springs, I just thought this was truly the middle of America, it looked like it, it sounded like it, it smelled like it, at gas stations I overheard teenagers talking about dates and games, people were helpful when I managed to get lost--yes in Kansas, lost. It just seemed like a "sweet" place and I thought it would be fun or interesting to explore the small towns for a few days. Nebraska was similar but rougher, though Rulo, on the Missouri River appeared pretty neat, a place out of time.

Utah was beautiful, but the southern part was pretty touristy. It was easy to get away from that since most tourists are doing the BIG national parks and places like Kodachrome were, while not empty, more separate.

US 89 was very cool with the almost abandoned towns, I really wanted to stop to shoot some pics but it would've taken too much time==yes, I have a life and I did sort of have a schedule and if I had spent more time there I would've missed maybe Little Bighorn.

No place for "less" time, I thought Mo was a little boring, at least the places I crossed. Iowa was pretty. And Arkansas was always fun and didn't disappoint. I took 23 almost its entire length. This was the first time I did the Pig Trail in the summer and Boy! is it different! It is overgrown and you go through these tunnels of canopied trees, lots of them, like even where there is that spot where the limit goes to 15-20 and there are those tight and steep switchbacks that are just like Deals Gap--you know the spot? Anyway, I would be going from DARK shade toBRIGHT sunlight and that was hard to see. But still very cool.


Michael--I would NOT take a winter sleeping bag, but for space take a summer one (45 degrees) and then have a cocoon for inside and a bivy for outside, to manage temp extremes. the winter one is too big. The biggest item in the gray bag was the sleeping bag--next biggest was the scotch.
Tools are an intensely personal thing, but you need torx wrenches, hex wrenches, I took and did not use an 8" crescent and a small vise grip, otherwise the tool kit that came with the bike has the basics. I did not travel armed, nor did I feel the need at any point--I did consider it though. It would've been hard to pack.

I took some water with me, but a 6 pack was too much. I took extra fuel for my jetboil and that came in handy--oh yeah, I took some strike anywhere matches and a lighter--very useful when the ignition system of the jetboil failed.
Mary Jane Farms for food and instant oatmeal. a "bucket/lid" to "use" in the tent in the middle of the night. My battery lantern failed on Day two. An external hard drive powered by the laptop--and Iomega 320 from Amazon for $93 delivered.

Lenses: I just got the 16-85 dx zoom for my nikon d200 and I love it, but I still brought my 55mm macro a 20mm wide and a 35mm/2 normal. I used the zoom almost exclusively, never the 55 or the 20, and the 35 sparingly. And a panasonic P&S LZ8 I htink

4 pairs of underwear, 6 socks, 1 pair pants, 1 shorts, Merrill sneakers, belt, REI towel, 3? long sleeve T shirts; 2 short sleeve T's and left one along the way--my orange Crawfishman one. Held "steve" gloves-used exclusively though I brought winter gloves; gerbings vest--and I used it a couple of days, but I was in May.

The bike did not handle as well with all that stuff on it, thought still ok

Left pannier--tools and gerbings and somthing else???

Right pannier--all food items and jet boil

top case all technology stuff and maps and paper towels--forgot--I had to replace a headlight bulb in Utah--I had one with me

duffel--clothes and scotch and sleeping bag

tent on top of L pannier; pad and hammer on top of R pannier

sirius radio--the loft-29; coffee house-30; NPR; occ Raw Dog; and Playboy radio--guilty pleasure or annoyance; occ Chill-35 and others

iPod

Zumo

SWMoto engage tank bag

[boxermania]

Doc.....I know you put a lot of time and ffort on this "shakedown ride" and the results, for what I see were outstanding. I'm happy that everything went according to plan and you had a great time.

I envy you a I don't have the gumption for two wheel travel as you did.....but thank you for sharing your experience as that is the next best thing for me other than being there.

[Dr. Strangelove]

Looks like high country. What were the temps like? Did you freeze at night?

no, not at all. When I was there they were having a heat wave and the day temps were high 80s --felt like New Orleans summer. And at night it was pleasant. Even the daytime temps in the high country were just fine. A friend went to Yellowstone the following week and had snow twice though.

[Dr. Strangelove]

I am sure you know Byron? You know, west of Lovell? You know, where the speed limit drops from 65 to 30? Where Officer Friendly is out with his revenue inducing radar gun? oh, you may not know it as Byron, you may know it as Spunk, Nevada, or Dry Prong, Louisiana, or Gas, Kansas, but you know it. The place where...oh,hell, now is as good a time as any...

I had 3 no, 4 encounters with those who "protect" and "serve." Only one was less than pleasant, but they are worth recounting, I think.

The first time was on US 160 in NE Arizona. It was in the middle of that dust riot that I think I described earlier. Those of you who have taken the from the East to the West trip know this moment. You have left Texas or Kansas or Iowa and now you are beginning to see the mesas and buttes and very dry country and you have that sense of "getting there" wherever "there" might be.

So, I was "there." On 160 and decided to pull to the side of the road to snap a couple of pics and stretch my legs, maybe a Clif Bar. I pull over and Officer Friendly, shortly thereafter pulls behind me, lights blazing.

I am a child of the 60s, so when confronted with an "authority figure," my mind reflexively goes through the checklist of contraband that I might have near my person: automatic weapons? Check; drugs? Check; beakers, burners, flasks? Check; two Somali children for Madonna? Check.

Hi ya doin?

Fine, I was just stopping to make sure you were ok?

Oh, yeah, Fine, just wanted to take a couple of pictures and with the traffic, it took a while to get off the bike.

Yes...(chuckle); well, ok I was just checking on you.

Thank you, Officer; I'm fine; this dust, though...we don't have that in Louisiana.

He laughs in agreement and tells me to have a nice day. Re-mounts his Crown Vic and waves as he pulls westward on 160. It was bright and glarey.

I think it was here


That was number one and the most pleasant.

The next one was in Red Lodge Montana. I am looking for a place to stay and riding down the main street, looking for a Mom and Pop motel, that I KNOW I saw on the first lap through town that now has disappeared. I round a block to retrace.
Red Lodge is a small town and one block off of the main street it is residential. And the speed limit is 15. Lots of stop signs. Riding a 600#+ beemer that is not as comfortable at 15 as she is at anything faster than 15.
I turn right, making my loop and I find myself behind the "Happy Days Ice Creme (sic)" truck....ding, de ding, de ding, de dum, de deeeeee! Hell-OOOOO!...ding, de ding, de ding, de dum, de deeeeee! Hell-OOOOO!...ding, de ding, de ding, de dum, de deeeeee! Hell-OOOOO!

No one is buying, but to give the ultimate opportunity for purchase the driver is doing 12mph...clutch..roll...throttle/clutch. Brimming with bravado, and What The Hell! coursing through my veins, I swing to the left, give Stella! fuel and she passes The Happy Days Ice Creme truck, like it was doing 12mph.

Overflowing with accomplishment and satisfaction--you know the feeling--I turn the corner heading back to main street....
WTF! flashing lights ,red and blue on this late spring afternoon in Red Lodge. I stop. Sullen, defeated, I assume the posture that is otherwise only displayed at a public urinal, hunched over, looking down.

You know why I pulled you over?

No, officer.

I "clocked" you doing 22 in a 15 zone.

Oh.

Just going to give you a warning, but please watch out.

Yes, sir...Thank you

I was a bit puzzled because I didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed of what I had done, I had been clocked at 22. I suppose I will never learn.

I know y'all can't wait to find out about the 3rd and 4th encounters with the Law, but you'll have to wait, though not long.

[Dr. Strangelove]

Chief Joseph ends in Wyoming 120, a lonely road, coursing through gently rolling green hills south to Cody. I gas in Cody and head north and east on US 14A.

Leaving Cody it is flatter than what I had been experiencing, but I knew things would improve, and they did, but they got worse first.

Afternoon in northern Wyoming, tooling along US14A, listening to tunes and heading to Montana, Little Bighorn, this evening. Big running well; generally comfortable facing away from the sun. What's that?

More flashing lights...s**t!

On ALL of these roads around here there are these little towns; and I mean little. No one is visible, just buildings; and the speed limit drops, plummets, to 30 from 65--no 55-45-30 progression here. 65 at one point and 30 at the next. I guess I missed that in Byron, Wyoming.

I am a mile out of town, on the east side, when I pull over.

You mustn't be able to hear me, Officer Friendly says with a smile.

Huh?

You mustn't be able to hear me.

No, I can't with the ear plugs and helmet. I couldn't.... Were you using your siren?

Yes, for the past mile after you went through town at 45.

What?

You went through town at 45. It's 30mph speed limit.

Oh, there was nobody there.

License please.

I hand it over and I wait, now familiar with the urinal posture.

OF emerges from his car and is writing me a ticket.

Can this be a warning?

No, and he is smiling

I sign and he offers this advice

All of the towns along 14 are 30 mph speed limit and because you are out of state, if you choose to ignore the "citation" Wyoming will contact your state and they will confiscate your license.

I thought that was probably BS.

How much is this ticket?

$120

So, I say Welcome to Wyoming. and he smiles.

Of course he would've accomplished the same thing of slowing me down in the towns with a warning, but it is the same everywhere I guess; revenue is revenue.

I was a bit bummed, but not willing to let this ruin the day. I ultimately paid the ticket, not because I feared the strong arm of any reciprocity between Wyoming and Louisiana, but because I might be stopped again in Wyoming and didn't want to be arrested.

I ride on and come upon a surprise of the trip. the Bighorn Range.

Rising to 9700+ feet from the high plateau, it does so abruptly.





There is view after view on both the way up and the way down. ON the eastern side the rocks are redder and there are signs labeling the geologic layers and their age, but there was construction--a little-- and I couldn't stop, but the switchbacks were beautiful and fun both going up and down





At the summit is where the Medicine Wheel is located



for more info http://www.uwsp.edu/geo/projects/geoweb ... dwheel.htm
and
http://solar-center.stanford.edu/AO/bighorn.html

I didn't see it.

The image above shows the turn off to the visitor center.
It is gravel. and dirt. and soft.
And the gravel achieves the Goldilocks size. That size is somewhat larger than marble size, maybe as big as what we used to call "Boleys" which were the larger marble size (and they were worth 5-10 regular marbles in 5th grade economics, where marbles were a unit of currency.)

Anyway, you've experienced them I am sure. They are the perfect size to make your front wheel do a "dance macabre," feeling on the verge always of sliding out from under you.

I think, do I want to do this and being so close...Yes, do it.

I snake my way up to the visitor center. Snow on either side of me. I park in a way that would allow the safest exit from the street motorcycle hostile parking area. Snow all around. No sign which way is the wheel. I chose what looks to be a route through a couple of buildings. I change my route when the snow is knee deep. I take the muddy higher ground.

I go about 50 yards and see a young guy coming toward me. He has snowshoes on his back and those long "finder" poles used to check for snow depth.

We chat....he says he had gone about 300 yards and turned around when his poles no longer hit terra firma. He claims to not want to slide down 250 yards into a snow bank. Wuss. We discuss how he would never be found because this is the "spring thaw." Later I also wonder how useful the Medicine Wheel could be as an astronomical instrument, since it is covered with snow so much of the year.
Anyway, as he packs to go--he has New York plates on his station wagon, I beat him out of the parking lot, because if I fell I wanted him to come along to help me right Stella! Wuss.

But I make it down safely and continue on.

At Ranchester I hop on I 90 for the ride to Little Bighorn, actually I missed the turn and had to retrace my steps a bit, but eventually I get to the area.

I 90 goes through some beautiful rolling countryside and takes me to the Little Bighorn National Monument. It is so cheesy just outside though.

This is an artistic picture of the area just outside



Really disappointing locale, can't stay here, fa sure. The neatest place was the big Exxon station. So I ride on, planning to come back in the am.

I stay in Hardin---there are only two exits--don't miss them---and get an early start heading back to LBH in the morning.

[Dr. Strangelove]

Little Bighorn was a peculiarly somber place.

Not really knowing what to expect from the outskirts, upon arrival it has the air of a place of quiet and sad contemplation. It is a moving place.

Knowing what happened here, on this hallowed ground, having traveled across so much of the land to arrive here, I get the feeling that while there were victors and vanquished, there were no winners, all were victims.


The National Cemetery had the feel of an Arlington, as it should





Riding up the trail I arrive at the mass burial site on Last Stand Hill





The area where most of the troopers were slain is fenced off



Standing there looking over the fence where so much slaughter took place, it was impossible not to feel the terror and the darkness of that time in our history
It is so visible how bodies piled upon each other by the markers



The fallen horses were honored



As were Native Americans



The hill the Native Americans held was the slight elevation in the center of the picture, which suggests that before mortal hand to hand combat, shots were fired at very close range. A very sobering thought.



The Memorial honoring the Native Americans had quotes from many of the participants. There were no winners here, before or after.
The Crow Nation was aligned with the soldiers



and the sculpture





And riding down the trail grave markers sporadically pepper the hillsides. I found my mind putting together scenarios for these areas apart.





and leaving the park, again I am confronted by the incongruity of a glitzy kitschy cheesy casino run by Native Americans so close, next door, to a very sad piece of our history



A very beautiful and sobering start of what was already a note worthy day

[Dr. Strangelove]

Little Bighorn has staying power in my mind. The somber mood and the contrast with what's just outside linger as I roll south on I 90 toward Sheridan.

Addressing right turns and exits and gassing up eventually forms a thin veneer over darker thoughts , and after refueling in Sheridan, I head east and south on US 14, soon to be joined by US 16.

14 and 14A are memorable roads for me. They traverse some very lonely stretches of country, but again the feel of the Land is always there. The sense of timelessness, the sky, all join and invite you in to the mix.







No people around, but evidence suggests otherwise



and in Clearmont



14/16 brings me down to I 90 again in Gilette, which I cannot remember, but farther along I do remember Moorcroft and the Cenex station there.

A decision I make every trip and have not yet decided on the right answer is whether to carry a qt of oil with me. I didn't this time and as a result, and not wanting to seek an auto parts store, I used 10w40, instead of syn 20w50. At Moorcroft I needed some oil. The qt I bought somewhere in Texas had leaked all over my left side case a couple of days before--what a hassle, and I ditched it. Now I need to top off, prob 100? 200 cc?
There it was: synthetic 20w50, but when I go to check out it is OVER $10 a quart. NO way, it was the principle of the thing, even though the cashier, when I questioned the price, told me "that's what all the Harley guys" like to put in. Gee, Is it chromed? sorry.
10W40 at $5 was purchased. and I headed back up into Wyoming's atmosphere, now north, off of I 90 and heading here:




Devils Tower is a real jewel and combined with Little Bighorn, made for two of the most memorable sites, if not THE most memorable sights of the trip.

It was huge. Far bigger than what you'd think from Close Encounters of the Third Kind, shown at the KOA campground every night at 9 pm.

There are trails around the base; the shorter of the two takes 45 minutes of brisk walking, not stopping for anything. I took two hours, stopping for a lot.

It was one of those sights that just arrests your gaze. It commands inspection. The name Devils Tower came about from a survey done in the late 1800s; the original name was Lodge of the Bear... http://www.nps.gov/archive/deto/stories.htm
It was interesting at night to see Ursa Major--the Great Bear, just to the right from my view. And know that the Pleaides would pass right next to the summit. It was very cool.













Look closely and find the climbers who will spend the night atop



The boulder field at the base. Many boulders were much larger than a car. You can only imagine one crashing down and rolling a bit.







Eagles soaring over the top



But it was here, at the visitor's center, that a sort of defining moment of the trip happened


I was returning from my walk around the base and heading toward my bike. Parked next to me and disembarking from their Harley was a couple dressed in standard Harley gear, helmetless, tank tops, jeans, heavy boots. Mr Harley appropriately scruffy; Mrs Harley just a little too round for her stretched to the limit jeans.

Hey, how are y'all?

Fine!

You doing ok?

We're having a blast!

I had not heard the word "blast" in, what? ... decades? But here in the visitor's center parking lot I hear it and it is so appropriate!

Yeah, me too! and we go our ways. But the memory of that lingers. I have always had a problem with the word "journey," believing it suggests something far greater than what these rides are. Yes, they are a trip, an adventure, but a "journey." I don't know. Ulysses had a journey; Lewis and Clarke had a journey, but failing that kind of an epic trail, it just ain't no journey. But what it is, is a BLAST.

Yeah, you right! A blast.

I hop on Stella! as the late afternoon storm clouds roll in



and head out to get a couple of long range pics, trying to beat the weather





and then head back to camp--the KOA at the base, not bad at all, and a great view.

Looking for something cold to drink I enter the camp store and who is in there, but Mr and Mrs Harley, now not having a blast because they are dealing with a cash register computer issue, so they are making small talk with the cashier--actually only Mrs Harley as Mr Harley is waiting patiently for resolution.

You can learn the most interesting things about people, just listening and watching, for example, I'll bet it is news to you, as it was to me, that Mrs Harley had two daughters.
Oh really, from the cashier

Yeas and Miranda is my mother's curse on me.

what?

Oh, that child! Mr Harley looks down and to the right.

She's my mother's curse.

I understood, she meant that, well, remember when you did something or said something to your mother and she said: Just you wait! Just wait until you have your own [children]! I hope they talk to YOU this way!

That was Miranda (which is a very pretty name, imo, and means "Shining")

Mrs Harley goes on. Now my other daughter, Minette, is the perfect child...she's a corporal in the Air Force and just does everything right. We are so Proud of her.

So, I learned that about Mr and Mrs Harley.

I also learned that Mrs Harley was wearing a thong, dark blue. How did I know that? It will remain a mystery. But I know! ok?

I was having a blast

I paid for my Bud without need of the failing electronics of the counter. It was a dollar...even. BTW, what equine urine, that, but the closest they had to what we know as "beer."

Aw reet!

and I settle in for the evening. During the evening I shot this from my tent, as this was the view



and then the very early morning sun



a triad of "S"s later and I am on the road again



and on my way back 116 years

[Dr. Strangelove]

After recs from board members I decided to take, to continue on 14 into South Dakota (rather than 16). But along the way was Alladin; Population 15; General Store 115 Years Old.

Actually, 116, according to the ladies inside. This place was not quite a time warp, certainly not a tourist trap, definitely a place to stop a while, and the only place in town.

They had everything. I didn't seek 20W50 though, to be honest, but if I were looking for used cowboy boots for a child, or rope, or lamps, or a Coke, or a T shirt, or curios, or maps, or a dress (not that there's anything wrong with that), or cigarettes, or a piano, or a drink, well, you get the picture. The only other "general store" I had seen that was this "general" was Joe Dreyfus General Store and restaurant in Livonia, Louisiana, but this one was a doozey.









I know many ladies "of a certain age" for whom...





















And then rolling again on these timeless roads I re enter time, from the sublime to the ridiculous.

I stop in Spearfish, on the northern end of the Black Hills and a good place to base. I think it was the Residence Inn when I stopped and it was fine for internet and laundry and there was a big Honda store just down the road. There was Perkins Family Restaurant across the parking lot and a Big K Mart within walking distance. And a carwash nearby. The commercialism of the spot didn't bother me, because I needed to do "stuff." But the location did allow me to have a couple of days in the Black Hills and then exit east through the Badlands.

After I check in and download my things, I take a Sunday afternoon ride to Deadwood and Sturgis.

Let me save you some gas money. No reason to go to either place.

[GypsyRR]

Nice photos of Devils Tower. But it's still hard to get a perspective of the size of it.

And ooooooo, boots. They look like the TonyLama boots my dad bought me soon after we moved to Texas!

[bmwdave52]

GREAT PICS!! What a trip!
Isn't the Beartooth awesome.

[Dr. Strangelove]

Sturgis: A name that rings hormonally for every rider; you've heard the tales, you'ved been questioned, and many of those asking seem to think, believe that this is the Mecca, the epicenter, the Emerald City of what being a "true" motorcyclist means. Ok, I exaggerate, a bit, but Sturgis is out there as a destination whether or not you ride a cruiser. It is hyped as Mardi Gras for this set--guys who look like this


and Girls Gone Gangsta

what's not to attract? Throw in BEER (and probably throw UP beer) and Ride Ride Ride

I was this |--------------------| close so I had to go. And in truth I wanted to go, say I'd been there, see the scene, check it out, etc.

Sturgis was named after Jack Sturgis who was politically connected and died at Little Bighorn. Or it was named after Frank Sturgis, one of the Watergate burglars and also had some dealings in the Kennedy Assassination. Probably Jack because we know much about Frank; while, on the other hand, We Don't Know Jack.

Wiki tells us, as part of the vast Ellsworth Air Force Base complex, the land north of Sturgis was (is?) dotted with 50 Minuteman missile silos, with the closest (L5) only 3.5 miles from the center of the town. Have another beer, Sarge. Red means GO? or Stop?

Incidentally, it is Public Safety Day - Saturday July 11 - Join the Sturgis Police Department on Saturday, July 11 from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. at the Sturgis City Park.

Where do I start. I know...at the end.
I left after taking a few pictures to show I've been there. Really bored. Yawn.

What happens before that is this. I leave Spearfish on this bright sunny Sunday afternoon, about 1p and head for a very historic town, Deadwood. I saw much of the HBO series of the same name and wanted to see its namesake.

Deadwood is a tourist center of sorts. It is a gambling haven. EVERYWHERE there are slots and they are gaudily advertised.
Signs proclaim "10 cent Slots!!!"

You know what you get when you offer "10 cent slots"? You get 10 cent tourists. No reason to explore, I kept looking for a "historic center" maybe a little less commercial. It was not to be. It was bustling though, lots of those tourists. Maybe I am being a little too hard, but after riding the roads I had been on for the past days and days, to see this, well it wasn't what I expected and it was not particularly attractive.



I filled up and headed to Sturgis on, on? You guessed it, my old friend US 14A and it comes through again with some nice sweepers, a decreasing radiusor two, iirc, and it was just a nice road, so I head into Sturgis, not knowing what to expect and hoping this place can even approach its hype.

It doesn't come close.

There is NO character to the town unless large shed-like bars hold appeal. And murals depicting something relating death and motorcycling--always a very cool topic. And there were so few people there it was like the place was closed down. I looked for an open store, for t shirts--I was looking for ones that said "loud pipes save lives" in toddler sizes--I have four 2 year old grandchildren; nada.

Ok, it was a Sunday afternoon, but this was Sturgis. I rode all over town and saw nothing worth staying for, but this is what I saw.













Fill in the spaces between those "landmarks" with non-descript buildings and empty streets. Welcome to Sturgis on this Sunday afternoon.

And what is the deal with all the skulls and satanic angels and wings and all that fun house imagery? Do decals and patches make the man? It would seem in Sturgis, perhaps yes. Oh, yeah, and a collander makes a very good helmet, if it is spray painted flat black, and don't forget the German cross so whatever "roots" that is suppose to convey, will be perfectly clear.

There is no reason whatsoever for any excursion to this "fabled" town.

However, I didn't come to this part of South Dakota for Deadwood or Sturgis. I came for the roads and they did not disappoint. Lots of very hilly terrain, with pretty streams and a couple of real surprises of a road. The region is peppered with dirt roads to explore, but that would be another time.

Monday morning I went to the Honda store in Spearfish just off of I 90 and told them I had a day to spend, where would they recommend and they gave a route down to Custer State Park that passed by the Crazy Horse Monument and then over to Mt Rushmore and then back up. But there were two highways along that route that deserve special mention. I alluded to them earlier and they are Needles Highway and Old Iron Mountain Road.
These two, along with Beartooth and Chief Joseph were the highlights of the trip. They were fun and remote and scenic and very little traffic.

on the way down







and arriving at the Crazy Horse Monument. This is a private undertaking and not a national park. Once you make the turn you will have to go through the admission booths. But, the undertaking is huge. Bigger than Rushmore and if completed, will be eye-popping. It is only $5 for a motorcycle to go in and I was more than happy to give than donation to what seems to be a very worthwhile project.

Eventually


and so far


Just beyond the Crazy Horse Memorial project lies Custer State Park, entrance fee is $6, but that gets you onto Needles Hwy

The road into Custer grows smaller and smaller, twister and twistier, greener and greener and then you're at the admission area. The lake is right there and it looks to be a pretty park, but right after the admissions booth, there it is: Needles Highway. It is named for these granite? "needles" that suddenly make a dramatic appearance and then you realize you are riding onthe side of a mountain filled with these needles.





























yes, those are bison in the wild. This was one of two small herds I encountered.


The fun comtinues on Iron Mountain Road, bu the weather, which had held for so long, now breaks open and I am in rain on one of the twistiest roads of the entire trip. In the dry, I bet this road is a "blast," but in the wet, canopied with trees and wet leaves on the road, it was time to take those 10 and 5 mph speed limits quite seriously. The road actually had a corkscrew. Only time I have ever encountered that, but it had a corkscrew. It was misty in addition to the rain so vistas of Mt Rushmore were not possible. There is a reason you never see pictures of Mt Rushmore in the rain. It is dreary, very dreary. I couldn't see it until I was right on it, and sitting on my bike in the rain was not particularly appealing, but I managed to snap a couple of pics, though saw no good reason to go into the park at this time.







So, it was time to head back to Spearfish, realizing that with Mt Rushmore, I had seen everything I thought I could on this trip. In a sense the adventure was coming to a close. There were still many many miles to cover to get back home.

But beginning tomorrow it was the road home

[Dr. Strangelove]

Leaving Spearfish I travel to the Badlands via South Dakota 44 Scenic Hwy. It was ok, but compared to what I had seen that's the best I can muster for a description. Still it was the bucolic byway through these parts and this is where, outside of Rapid City a number of miles, I have Encounter # 4 with Offcier Friendly.

Still a little stung by my encounter #3 in Byron I AM watching my speed. The limit is 65 on this stretch and I am tooling along at a respectable 71 or 2 with my Throttle Meister. And here he comes toward me. I see him but he has seen me first. Although I immediately slow down it is too late and he does a 180 after he passes and of course "safely" does 80 or so to catch me. I stop on the side of the road and assume the now practiced urinal posture.

He walks up to me. I think the best defense is a good offense so right away I say

I know I know I was trying to adjust-

I pulled you over because you were doing--

I know, 71

72

OK, I have this thing cruise control, referring to the Throttle Meister, and I was trying to set it and it gets stuck and I knew I was going 71 and I was trying to adjust it, but-

and then he says

I know, I have one on my bike and they are sometimes a little hard to adjust.... Let me see your license and if it is clean this will just be a warning.

Yes, Sir

A reasonable officer, at last

Turns out my license is clean and I am released. I Shall Be Free! I am free I am free.

You know, on these rides, these adventures, most of the time you are not going fast, or at least not very fast. You enjoy the ride too much. Sure there are some places where it is fun to go fast, but many many times you're just going the limit, enjoying the buzz of the ride, good karma and all that. Anyway, that was the last encounter with The Law for the trip.

So, Stella! and I get rolling again and head into the Badlands, so appropriately named because it just looks like Bad Land. Much of it looks like the beginnings of a construction site, with piles of mud all over. It's sort of pretty, but sort of not. I am sure that there were areas prettier than what I saw and doing the dirt would probably bring you to areas more scenic, but these were my shots.

They start green enough


but soon we see the red dirt escarpments





I drop down into Nebraska at Valentine and take 12 all the way to Sioux City--a very nice ride, very rolling, gently, alone, but not lonely. Again part of the land and the sky.

From Sioux City I take the Loess Scenic Byway heading truly south now. It was a terrific alternative to 1 29.












And eventually roll back into Nebraska at Rulo, a peculiar little river town that I wish I had more time to hang. But miles beckoned and I rolled on into Fort Scott, Kansas by late afternoon. I ate at Rusty"s Sports Bar, recommended on the ADVrider board--good choice! and then, headed down along Hwy 7, throughly enjoying the rural ride through manicured farmlands, really pretty, really peaceful and feeling a little nostalgic for all the places I'd seen, but heading to Baxter Springs

And I want to go to Baxter Springs because of the James Mc Murtry song, Choctaw Bingo

Ruth Ann and Lynn come down from Baxter Springs
That's one hell raisin' town way up in Southeastern Kansas
Got a biker bar next to the lingerie store
That's got them Rolling Stones lips up there in bright pink neon
And they're right down town where everyone can see 'em
And they burn all night you know they burn all night you know they burn all night
Ruth Ann and Lynn they wear them cut off britches and those skinny little halters
And they're second cousins to me
Man I don't care I want to get between 'em
With a great big ol' hard on like a old bois d' arc fence post
You could hang a pipe rail gait from
Do some twisted sisters 'til the cows come home
And we'd be havin' us a time

and I roll into town