West 2009
 
 

Day 03

August 29

 
 
 
  Well, today will be one more day of distance covering before we get down to some back road riding. We would like to get away earlier, but are bound by the rental place hours, which is just down the road a few miles. As is my habit, I go out early and uncover Frost and get her ready for the day. Although it is a full cover, it actually packs pretty small into a stuff sack once you get the hang of it. I have been really pleased with my EZ Touring cover as it has seen plenty of use over the years in all kinds of weather conditions.  
 
 
  When the crew is ready, we make our way over to Rosie's Diner, which is just across the parking lot. I find it hard to believe that Andy and Dave are actually contemplating stealing the hubcaps off the police car before breakfast, but I will refuse to admit I know them if they do ... and get caught.  
 
 
 

We get a nice booth in the corner, and our server is fascinated with Dave's accent.

"Well, as you can tell, he ain't from around here" I tell him.

The server is a bit surprised that Dave does not want hot tea but brings him the Diet Coke that he wants. Andy gets coffee, and I get unsweet ice tea, and so it will be for the rest of the trip - until the ice tea becomes 'undrinkable'. It's a curious phenomenon that the farther north we go the worse tasting the tea becomes.

"Cheers" he replies to Dave as he hurries off with our orders.

 
 
 
 

Breakfast is good with good service along with it, and we sit and chew the fat as to what is coming up. I tell both of them -

"Probably the best riding of the whole trip will be the run over Lolo Pass. Just mile after mile of sweepers, good pavement, and not much traffic. The most challenging will be highway 1 on the coast - not cause it's so technical, but it's so hard to focus on the road with all of the scenery. But it ain't the place to make a mistake cause it's a long way to the bottom."

With breakfast polished off, we head back to the motel so Andy and I can get our bikes packed. Dave has the motel clerk summon him a taxi to take him and his luggage to the rental place. Before we pull out I tell him -

"Well Dave, it's nice knowing you. Glad you could stop by."

He's not too worried about it and waves us a good-bye, glad to be rid of those two pesky Tennesseans who slaughter the King's English.

 
 
 
 

Andy and I stop for fuel at a place just down the road and arrive at the rental place in good time. It isn't open yet, so we just kind of hang loose waiting for Dave's arrival. It's a nondescript building in an industrial park, making it easy to miss if you are not careful. The place is called Colorado Motorbike Rentals but Dave has contracted with them through an outfit call Ad-Mo Tours, who do a lot of international setups. Dave tells us -

"That cab driver was talking and driving with a map on the steering wheel. I was wondering if I was going to make it here."

The feller on duty shows up, and opens up the place so Dave and some other riders can tend to business.

 
 
 
 

We follow Dave into the small office, so we can sort of check out what kind of facilities they have. The ST1300 he is going to rent is sitting in the back, all ready to go. He has prearranged with them to kept his empty luggage so he will have it handy when we get back on Saturday afternoon. Then the whole deal gets really interesting. I'll let Dave put it in his own words -

On arrival at Colorado BikeTours I got a very friendly greeting off Bill, he then finished dealing with the customer he was seeing to, we then sat down to conclude our business, with me thinking I just had to pay the remaining $985 from the invoice I had been sent by AdMo Tours before getting the keys and being on our way.

Imagine my surprise when Bill drops a bombshell on me and tells me AdMo Tours had made a mistake on the invoice and had only charged me for 8 days instead of the 15 days I had requested and which was actually stated on the invoice. He informed me they had only JUST noticed this discrepancy despite me making the booking 9 months previously and also e-mailing them two weeks previous to confirm everything was still OK. After much discussion, and explaining to him that I expected that having paid them deposits on the strength of that invoice that the invoice was a legally binding document. Bill told me if I did not pay the extra $1300 I had two choices, one, take the bike for 8 days, two, I need not take the bike and he would refund my deposit. At the time we tried ringing AdMo Tours but there was no answer on their phone as they did not seem to work at weekends.

Now I knew cowboys originally came from America, but this one was not even wearing a cowboy hat or a six shooter. I backed down and paid the excess amount just so as to get on with the trip as it was obvious Bill had nothing to lose by not letting me take the bike, and I in comparison had a trip of a lifetime to lose. I tried not to let this incident affect my trip, hoping that on my return to the UK I would be able to get this sorted out by Visa as all the bills had been paid using my card, but this had put a serious dent in the budget I had allocated for this trip and would require a significant time on my return to repay.

I keep my mouth shut during the whole affair, finding hard to believe what I am hearing. Dave has no practical choice, so he does what he has to do. Andy and I wander back outside and just shake our heads. David gets his stuff loaded as quickly as he can on the ST1300 and we get on with day's riding at hand. Denver traffic is quite light as we make our move out of town.

 
 
 
  In short order we come to the Wyoming state line on our trek up I25, and they indulge me as I snap number 2 on my Frost state line list. I always like this one because there is plenty of safe space to pull over. Now I have only 8 more to go!  
 
 
  We decided at breakfast that our mode of operations would be to get up early, get a good breakfast, ride all day, snack for lunch and settle for a good supper when we land at our motel for the evening. We know to cover the distance we need to cover that a lot of pictures will be taken from the saddle, but we're all cool with that. And usually every morning we all three are out earlier than we said, ready to hit the road for whatever the day might bring. Breaks are usually short like this one, as we take hydraulic breaks, rehydrate and sort out how many layers to put on or take off.  
 
 
  As we settle into our usual configuration - me in the lead, Dave behind, Andy bringing up the rear, I check behind me just to make sure all is well. Andy and Dave are both veteran riders and have ridden a lot of miles with me, but I still want make sure all is well. I've been riding long enough to know that strange things can happen faster than you can say 'what was that'.  
 
 
  Nothing too glorious about I25 in Wyoming - mostly just flat and straight as far as the eye can see. It's roads like these that really make me appreciate my electronic MCCruise control which saves my 'surgically altered' wrists a lot of wear and tear.  
 
 
  Occasionally we'll pass by a long section of rail bed or an interesting lake off in the distance. I'm still amazed at the length of freight trains that they pull out here and the often occurrence of triple pup trailers and double full size trailers on the interstates. But I guess when things are far apart, you have to take such measures to get stuff moved around the area.  
 
 
  The sights along the road are varying - from antelopes and elks grazing to chimneys that seem to reach up and scratch the sky. As we get around the bend, the chimneys appear to be part of a large electricity generating facility located on a lake - just like back home in Tennessee.  
 
 
  When we arrive in Casper, we finally get to leave the slab behind us as we head for Wyoming 20 which will take us to Wyoming 120 and the wonderful Wind River area right into Cody. So it seems a bit appropriate that we stop in at the Ghost Town store for our fuel and hydraulic break. We won't be on the interstate system again until we head for the Grand Canyon ten days from now.  
 
 
  I still keep a close watch on my friends behind me, because there's still plenty of wildlife on the roadsides and they can jump out faster than you can react. There's more to leading than being in front, and I take my position very seriously. But everything looks good back there, so we just keep rolling along at a good pace.  
 
 
  In the distance, I can see the mountains that we will soon be climbing on our steeds of steel on a smooth ribbon of asphalt. Part of the joy of riding is being out in the wind and the weather, anticipating what could be just over the next rise. You become totally immersed in your surroundings, far away from the far too numerous electronic intrusions that plague our daily lives. I don't have my cell phone on and I don't use a GPS - technology is what I do for a living and a busman's holiday is not what I am after.  
 
 
 
When we arrive in the Wind River Area just past Shoshoni, it is a real delight to ride. It's the first of many wonderful sweepers we will encounter on this ride.
 
 
 
  We even get to 'thread the needle' in the process as we blast through short tunnels chiseled in the rock.  
 
 
  But as we make our descent into Cody proper, we back off the wick a bit. You just never know when the local constabulary will be out and about. And sure enough there is a 'greeting party' waiting for us as we near the city limits. I am bit disturbed that my Autocom setup is still not working properly with my Escort radar detector. But I figure I'll try to sort it out when we get to the motel.  
 
 
 

When we get to the Uptown Motel, a local place that I have stayed at twice before we get a bit of a shock. I walk in to get our rooms. I tell the young lady behind the counter -

"There should be two reservations in the name of Derryberry."

She looks in their hand ledger and says the words that you really don't want to hear at the end of the day -

"Sorry, we've got no reservations in that name."

"Hmm, that's funny. I made them back last year. I've stayed here a couple times before so I don't know what's up."

It turns out that she is the daughter of the new owners, so she calls Mom and Dad and they come over.

When I give them the 'reservation code' - Jason - the light comes on in their eyes.

"Yeah, he was the clerk before we took over and he took all the reservation information with him" the lady tells me. "Let me see what we can do."

After a short time, she comes back out and makes me a deal I cannot refuse. They have three rooms left, all with single beds. What we reserved was two rooms, one with two beds. They offer to give us the three rooms for the original price of the two rooms and I jump on it faster than a duck on a June bug. I call out to Andy and Dave

"Get in here boys and settle up with these nice folks."

As it turns out, the new owners are school teachers and know the guy whose used to run the place before the notorious Jason feller. He's a school teacher also and still works with them. With the accommodations handled, we move our bikes over to our rooms and unload them.

 
 
 
 

This is an older place, but the rooms are large and nicely furnished. Dave enjoys the outside chairs as he sits a bit but he has a problem -

"I'm too tired to stand up and too sore to sit down" he says.

Being the very sympathetic creature that I am, I reply

"Suck it up and get used to it! We're just getting started."

 
 
 
 

Super is an easy decision, since Granny's is right next door and I've been then several times before. I remember quite vividly the last time - Tom and I were on our way to Alaska.

 
 
 
  After a good supper, we take a short stroll down the main streets of Cody. It is quite the tourist destination with all sorts of shops to relieve you of your money in exchange for a piece of Western Americana.  
 
 
  And in one store window, we see the elusive jackalope, a creature that is hard to find in the wild but obviously these folks did ...  
 
 
  When we get back to the rooms, we work on setting up Dave's radio and I try to sort our my radar detector connections. Dave is successful in his endeavor but I am not. This will be just one of the disappointments that I have with the Autocom setup along the way. It was working fine when I left the Holler but somehow nothing I do corrects the problem. Some days, you just have to know when to quit, so I quit. At least Dave, Andy and I can all now communicate on the radios - for a while anyway. With the business done, we all head for our collective rooms, knowing that 6 AM for breakfast at Granny's will come early.