West 2009
  
 

Day 04

August 30

  
 
 
  Today begins what I call the 'real ride' - when we do more that just cover miles to get to a destination. It will be a short day of less than 240 miles, but over some of the best roads in the area. I'm up again early, getting Frost ready for the day.  
 
 
  One thing I really like about staying at the Uptown Motel is that Granny's Restaurant is right next door and the grub is basic and good. I order my usual - a bacon and cheese omelet - and Dave gets some sort of skillet that looks pretty good. Then he has to go dump Tabasco sauce on it! I have to send the ice tea back - it just ain't up to snuff. So I begin my 'water' drinking for a while instead of ice tea. Probably better for me, but I still like that brown elixir ...  
 
 
  It's still dark outside and not a good time to be leaving. With the abundance of wildlife in the area, we just relax a bit, waiting for the sun to get up. One of the things that we do as a matter of habit is fuel up the night before. That way we are not subject to the opening times of gas stations in the various locations we will visit. And I always ask if we can just leave the keys in the room instead of having to do a formal check-out. This makes an early get away a lot easier and a lot quicker.  
 
 
  We head out of town north on Wyoming 120 while the rest of Cody sleeps. That's one nice thing about getting out early - not much traffic that you have to fool with.  
 
 
 

As we make our way out of town, the sun provides us with a nice welcome as it slowly climbs over the distant welcome peak. But the temps are still surprisingly cool once we are out of town, so I radio to Andy and Dave -

"I've got to stop and put some more clothes on fellers!"

I'm still a little aggravated about my heated grips and heated clothes having problems, but I figure I shouldn't need them much after today so it can wait. I just hate to attempt repairs on the bike while on the road unless there are no other options.

  
 
 
  Soon we come to one of my many favorite roads - the Chief Joseph Scenic Highway. It is the route that Chief Joseph took when he led the Nez Perce Indians out of Yellowstone National Park area and into Montana in 1877 as they tried to escape the US Cavalry and make it into Canada. Today it is our escape from traffic, for we have the road pretty much to ourselves - and what a road it is!  
 
 
  As you ascend into the mountains, the views are gorgeous, with the mottled mix of blues, browns and greens brushed across a canvas that defies description.  
 
 
  Each sweeper we attack brings us higher and to more rugged terrain. The road clings to the sides of the mountains as it works it way over the hump and downward.  
 
 
  I can only imagine the exhaustion that the Nez Perce must have felt as they crested these peaks, only to find more peaks to climb before them and an ever closing enemy behind them. But for us in this day, the beauty is surreal and the path before us inviting as the only enemy pursuing us is time.  
 
 
  And then the sign shakes me from my thoughts as 'open range' is not something usually you have to deal with back home in Tennessee. Out West it is a frequent occurrence and can present some interesting challenges for the motorcyclist.  
 
 
  Such as this - rounding a curve to be greeted by Bessy and her friends! Fortunately this morning the bovines are cooperating and slowly wander off the pavement so we can keep going. But it does make you put up your antennas and watch way ahead on the road. Hitting a full grown cow is a really good way to ruin a day's worth of riding - not to mention a body and a motorcycle.  
 
 
  It doesn't get much better than this - excellent roads, excellent scenery, no traffic - and good friends to ride with. The pointed peak in the distance beckons us forward to come see it - which we are obliged to do.  
 
 
  Originally I had planned on skipping this section of road, but my heart just would not let me. I knew that Andy and Dave would thoroughly enjoy it - even if it meant we would ride over Beartooth Pass and back - which is not suffering too badly! At the end of the Chief Joseph Highway, we intersect the Beartooth highway and take a little break. Little do we know what lies up ahead.  
 
 
  As we make the western ascent of Beartooth, the mountains seem to go on as far as the eye can see. They are silent sentinels to the many tragedies and triumphs that have occurred over the centuries.  
 
 
  Often nestled among the craggy heights are lovely reflecting lakes such as this one. It's the sort of place you'd like to just sit down for a while, kick your shoes off and go wading. A small campfire, a fishing pole, a tent, a little grub, the love of your life with you - what more could a man want?  
 
 
  But the orange cones and mottled, patched pavement serve us a warning that things are not as they seem on this side of the mountain. I remember that the pavement on the Wyoming side was pretty shabby the last time that I came over.  
 
 
 

Soon we run into a major construction road stop. Up ahead the highway is nothing but hardpack gravel and you can only proceed behind the pilot car. One way traffic is all that is allowed, so we turn off the bikes and sit for a while. I notice the traffic monitor has what appears to be motorcycle gloves on.

"You a rider yourself?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I rode sport bikes but had a bad crash. My front tire shredded and I went sliding down the road, watching my bike do an end over end. I wasn't hurt too bad cause I was wearing good gear, but my bike was in pieces. My riding buddies kept asking about me, but all I could think of was collecting all the pieces."

The pilot truck, that happens to be driven by his mother, finally arrives.

"Well, I reckon we'll see you again in a little bit. We're headed to Red Lodge, then we'll be coming back over."

"Have a great ride" he tells me as we carefully move out behind the pilot truck.

  
 
 
  Finally we reach the Montana border and the blessed end of the construction zone. I grab a quick shot before we enjoy the nicely paved side of Beartooth.  
 
 
  Part of the way down the mountain there is a really nice place to pull of and take a good photo op. There are bathrooms there also for those who need the break. We wheel in, and take a short break and some more shots before we head down the mountainside.  
 
 
  At heights like these, it's hard to imagine that in a matter of minutes we will be down on the road below making our way to Red Lodge. But of course, there will be all of those nasty curves that we have to negotiate ...  
 
 
 

Once we make it to the outskirts of Red Lodge, we make a fuel and hydraulic break and talk about our options going back.

"Well, fellers, we've got two choices - go back the way we came through the construction or ride the long way around. The way around will take quite a while so we're probably just better off through the construction" I tell them.

"Well, you're the leader, we're just following you" Dave says with a smile.

"Okay, then back over the mountain. At least we can have some fun on the Montana side."

So we mount up and away we go, at least this time knowing what to expect along the way.

  
 
 
 

As Ron, a riding friend says -

"Riding the opposite direction on a road makes it a whole new road!" and so it is as you run up the mountain that we just came down. I feel like I am quicker going up a mountain than coming down one, but that's probably more feeling than fact.

  
 
 
  Too quickly we are back at the Wyoming side where all the construction is. It looks like we'll be stopped for a while and I notice the folks in front of us are from Canada - one on a FJR, two on cruisers. Since we have plenty of time, I let Frost roll down so I can strike up a conversation with them. When we tell them where we've come from and where we're going they are a fascinated. Pretty soon the pilot truck shows up and the cars start to come by us. One feller in a truck just wags his head at me since I have dared to take a few inches of his driving clearance. It appears to me I could probably drive a semi through the space he is having difficulty negotiating, so I just smile and wave back at him. In fact, behind him is a rather large cement truck than makes the gap just fine. I guess some people are just naturally negative and wouldn't be happy if they were hung with a gold rope ...  
 
 
  As we follow the pilot truck back across the pass, I manage to grab a shot of some snow still lying in a ravine, waiting for the next one to fall.  
 
 
  The parade is seemingly endless down the mountain, but the scenery is superb. It sure does take some of the sting out of it to be sure.  
 
 
  Once we get to a good passing place, I blast around the slower moving cars with Andy and Dave in hot pursuit. Before long we have the long, empty road ahead of us with no traffic in sight.  
 
 
 

It's a relatively short run to the eastern entrance of Yellowstone, a place I have visited many times before. I plan on taking us up north to the Tower Falls, Mammoth Hot Springs and the historical entrance then a short run south through the Great Loop road from Norris to Madison. It should make for short day for us which will be nice.

  
 
 
  The line is long, but I have told Andy and Dave to get an annual federal park pass here. Although it's $80, it will pay for itself with all the federal parks we are going to need admission to. I got mine when Andy and I rode through Big Bend area early in the year, knowing we would be making this trip. I show my pass and ride on through to wait for Dave and Andy. As it turns out, they can split a pass and only pay $40 a piece which turns out to be a really good deal.  
 
 
  Once we are in the park proper, we encounter the 'wildlife warning signs' that some visitors obviously can't or won't read. Especially in Yellowstone, you may encounter anything from a full grown buffalo sauntering down the road to a grizzly bear looking for a meal. The problem is that some people have no concept that these animals ain't Yogi Bear and Bambi and they can hurt you. And what exacerbates the problem is that some folks will come to a full stop in their car, dead center of the road instead of using the pull-offs generously provided, to decide whether they will take a picture or not. I've watched them stop, pull up 2 feet, stop, pull up 2 feet, stop and then stay stopped for a while - blocking traffic both ways. And when you go around them, they look at you like you've lost your mind. I understand the fascination with wildlife and I just can't comprehend the complete brain disconnect.  
 
 
  Our first encounter - and not our last - is with a group of buffalo enjoying a nice feeding at the creek. A movie star was never so stalked by the paparazzi as these animals are as another 'Yellowstone traffic jam' takes places, with flashes going off like bombs bursting over Fort Sumter on that fateful night.  
 
 
  I always tell people if there is only one national park they can visit, make it Yellowstone. The variety of natural wonders and wildlife are just hard to match in other park that I have been through. And the wide open preserved spaces will speak to your heart in ways you will not quite understand nor comprehend.  
 
 
  Our first scheduled stop is at Tower Fall - one of the many beautiful waterfalls that grace the area known as Yellowstone. There's a large parking area, so we park the bikes and take the short hike over to see it. It is running very well and reminds me a lot of Falls Creek Falls back in Tennessee.  
 
 
  There's another short hike to get a better view of the river that carves through the canyon, and Andy is fascinated by the brilliant yellow of the flowers adorning the path.  
 
 
  Once again, Yellowstone provides some of the most breathtaking views of any place that I have been in the world.  
 
 
  But it also hosts the scenes of some the greatest natural tragedies, as these remnants of a burned out forest remind us. The terrain is so rugged, that fighting the fires on the cliffs and mountains is incredibly dangerous and difficult. And with the winds that sweep down from the mountain tops, the fires can jump right across the roads to attack the other side.  
 
 
 

As I look up ahead, I see a dark cloud forming and I radio back to Dave -

"I see you brought that dark cloud with you from Scotland. I guess it finally caught up with you after the flight."

Of course he denies all and admits to nothing, but I can see his initials faintly outlined in the billows. And this will not be the last time that his cloud makes an unscheduled appearance on this trip ...

  
 
 
  For now it leaves us be, and I see the Mammoth Hot Springs off in the distance. It is one of the more interesting geological features of the park.  
 
 
  We go to the old historical village on our way to the springs, and the village green has been graced by a visiting hear of elk. I'm sure the well manicured green grass tastes a lot better that the scrubby, uncultured stuff they can get else where. As usual, a few rangers are nearby to try keep people from getting too close to the animals and getting hurt.  
 
 
 

I tell Andy and Dave as we approach the site -

"I could be mean and not tell you about the road to the top and just let you climb all of those steps like I did the first time. But I'll be nice and take the easy way up."

The scent of sulfur is strong in the air, as the thermals bubble and steam away. It is quite an interesting mixture of smell and colors as we gaze down upon it.

  
 
 
  Then Dave's cloud reappears and brings with it lots of thunder and lightening. Being on top of one of the highest places around does not add any comfort to the equation.  
 
 
 

We grab another shot and decide it would be wise to head to lower altitudes. I ask them -

"Do you want to go see the historical entrance?. It's just a little ways off and it was the original gateway to the park."

I get the usual answer that I will come to expect -

"You're the leader, we're just following you."

"Well, since we're this close we might as well go for it" and we do.

  
 
 
  Yellowstone was the first national park and this was the first entrance, called the Roosevelt arch built in 1903.  
 
 
 

It requires you to actually leave the park to see it, so we get our pictures and then head back to the new entrance. When I present my pass to the waiting ranger, he tells me -

"Your pass does not have the month marked. Do you know when you got it?"

I never noticed and find it strange that I have been through several national parks - including the eastern gate of this one and nobody noticed.

I turn to Andy - "When were we in the Big Bend area?" as I am a bit confused now.

"March of this year" he tells me.

So the ranger punches April and gives it back to me. He also gives me a piece of paper that lets me know that the our 'short' ride of 12 miles using the Norris to Madison road has now been turned into a 84 mile detour, since that road is closed due to construction. I tell him thanks and wonder what will happen when Andy and Dave try to get back in on one pass. But they come through unscathed and we are on the way. The additional distance is not too bad, but the traffic makes it a lot longer that we had hoped for. But along the way we pass some pretty interesting sights like the effect that the thermal activity has on vegetation.

  
 
 
  And Dave's cloud continues to shadow us as we take the long way to West Yellowstone. But at least there is no lightening, so that does give me some ease of mind.  
 
 
 

And who should we see but our old friend the buffalo - up close and really personal. When you realize that these big boys weigh in at around a ton and what that much weight could do to a feller on a motorcycle, you just want a passing picture of him and that's about it. As I ride by I tell him -

"You really want that British feller back there on the black bike. He's the real trouble maker."

He seems to know exactly what I am talking about and gives me a free hall pass around his largeness.

  
 
 
  But his friends and family are enjoying another leisurely munch at the River Bend Grass Cafe and a Yellowstone Traffic Jam begins. With most of the folks more focused on the buffalo instead of what's in front of them, it's not a good place for a motorcyclist to get stuck. We have to carefully watch our front side and our back side so we don't become a casualty of a photographic outing.  
 
 
 

We finally get around all of that and pull into our accommodations for the next two days - the Westwood Motel. A lot of the reservations that I made for this trip were made back in the winter at places that I could only check out on the Internet and most were privately owned establishments. So in I go to see if the man behind the counter remembers. When I tell him my name, he responds in a heavy accent -

"Yes, I remember Derryberry very well"

And I breathe a sigh of relief. I had checked the motel signs as we came through town so I know there are other places with vacancies if push comes to shove.

"Yeah, when I talked to you you said there was all kind of snow on the ground" I remind him.

As it turns out, he is a 'football' fan, not American football but soccer, and he and Dave hit up on the sport right off. With the business of checking in done, he gives us the keys to our room and we're down the narrow drive to a room in the corner.

  
 
 
 

The facility has a bedroom with two double beds, another bed in the other room, full kitchen and table and a nice bath and we can park the bikes right outside the door.

"Well boys, looks like we came out all right on this one. With this kind of place you could base out of here for several days and be comfortable."

And it's very convenient and in short walking distance to downtown West Yellowstone which is also very nice. After checking out several local restaurants, we decide on the Timberline as the place to try. It's not too crowded so we get a good table near the window. Our server is a exchange student from Poland but she speaks very good English. We all end up ordering bison burger and fries and they are absolutely excellent. I tell Dave -

"Well, if I encounter Mr. Buffalo tomorrow I will point you out and let him know that you had his uncle for supper last night!"

Not that I am guiltless myself, but I'd be in the lead and could easily cause trouble for him since he would be following.

  
 
 
  And as we walk around the town area, it seems that they are having some sort of drawing or auction on all of these painted buffalo figures. They are quite well executed but somehow I don't think I could strap one on the back of Frost for the long ride home.  
 
 
  We check out the local museum which is the converted Union Pacific railroad terminal but decide the price of admission is a little more than we want to cough up at the time. We've been in the saddle for over 12 hours today, so we begin to work our way back to the motel.  
 
 
 

There is an interesting water wagon outside that is pretty amazing. It was used to wet down the dirt roads leading into Yellowstone Park. I can only imagine how much the thing must weigh full of water.

"I'd love to see the horses that pulled that thing, wouldn't you?"

We all notice how high up the driver would be seated and decide that's not the kind of ride we would want to participate in.

  
 
 
 
Before long we are back at our place for the evening. I decide to do a little hand laundry since we'll be here another night and it will have time to dry. I also have to figure out a route for us since one of the roads we were going on is closed. We also decide we'll try a different restaurant for breakfast that's just down the street. Since tomorrow should be a shorter day, we figure we'll sleep in until we wake up - which will be pretty early by most folks' standards.
 
 
 
  With all of that executive decision making out of the way, I stretch out in the sack and am out for the count in short order. Little do I know what surprise will await me just outside the door in the morning.