July 14, 2005 - Thursday – Day 19

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 342- Trip Total: 4717 – Daily Average: 262.1 (travel days)
10am-4:30pm – 7.5 hours (with time change to Pacific Time)
Superior, MT to Boardman, OR
(-stayed at an Econolodge -) (MT,WA,OR – 21/48)


My gosh! This day went by like a blink of an eye. Seems we were no sooner putting stuff on the bike than we were taking it off. The first 200 miles in the cool of 65 degrees, and with a swift tailwind that helped make the riding easy and delightful. (We had decided that the day off AND the cool morning helped make it so great!) The last 150 miles or so, though, was super wind-buffeted in at least 95 degrees and very hard riding.

The terrain changed before our eyes throughout the day. It began as tree-filled mountain riding and we billy-goated over quite a number of high passes. Look Out pass in Montana being perhaps the most famous – and that clocked in at almost 5,000 feet. Then there was the lesser known 4th of July Pass. Both ranged upward on fairly good I-90 roadway and the descents were good, too, with fabulous views stretching green everywhere.

Then we rode out of the mountains and into dead flatland of farms and tawny wheat-colored pastures as far as blue horizon. And then, by the end of the day, it was buttes, scrub, and prairie land baking under the hot sun.

--------------------------

We were out on the road after having breakfast and after airing up the back tire a bit. It was 10am. As we headed over Look Out Pass there was a work zone. Some of the bright orange cones had blown or were knocked out to the middle of the roadway. I was super careful, but I clipped one of them on my foot peg as we went by. It had negligible impact.

The first 111 miles took about two hours, what with all the mountain curves as we left Montana. I guess Karen enjoyed the views. I was busy studying the highway. For a lot of the time I try to hone my cycling skills. Still need a lot of work on the turns, especially slower tight turns to the right.

We passed a number of "run-away" truck ramps. Karen wondered how the cars in FRONT of those runaway trucks must feel...

Especially on the straight-aways, it was a terrific late morning ride. It had me feeling like a speedy silver bullet whistling down a slender tube on that cool morning.

A little morning drama on the highway - I watched the scene unfold. A couple riding two-up were on a bike in front of us. They seemed on a long tour, too. She was wearing a pink top with a leather vest, he was a heavy guy with a black bandana on. They were in the left lane and in front of them was an enormously long and very big trailer truck. They kept on in the left lane waiting for the truck to move over, but it didn’t. So the motorcyclist went over to the right lane and sort of hung there for a few minutes, clearly trying to decide if he should pass on that right side, which he decided to do. I braked a little - worried about what might happen. The motorcyclist made his move to pass on the right and as he got to the middle of the truck, the trucker put on his right turn signal and started to move over into the right hand lane. I gulped and braked a bit more anxiously awaiting what disaster might happen next. Well, just in time, presumably having seen the impatient and/or stupid motorcyclist trying to pass blindly on the right, the trucker pulled back into the left lane and let him go by. I let out a big "Whew!"

The enormous L-shaped lake around Coeur d’Alene was just magnificent to view for what seemed miles – it was dark blue and shiny and populated with sunny shimmerings.

At about 12:20pm at a Sprague rest area, we stopped to munch on a couple of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Karen made yesterday. We sat on the grass under a shade tree and had a relaxing picnic. From where we sat there were great views of a harvesty-golden-grain hillside and on the grass near us in the sunshine, seagulls cawed away. Part of the highway would could be seen in the distance and Karen noted they looked like little toy cars moving along there.

As we crossed into Idaho in the morning, we moved into Pacific time and set our watches an hour back. It’s been good getting that extra hour during the day every so often when we changed time zones, but I guess it will be the other way around shortly when we head east.

Also a milestone for the trip: just west of Spokane, Washington we turned the corner to the south. Gassed up again right after our lunch break. Highest pricing of the trip! $2.50 a gallon.

A bit into Oregon we saw our first tumbleweed. It was off on the right and I was a little worried about it coming in front of us, but a big truck deflected it.

We could have probably gone on, but at 340-ish miles, we noted an EconLodge off the highway and decided to check out the pricing. Karen was pretty tired anyway and I was beginning to fade. The place was priced perfectly and there was a restaurant right next door with the best veggie burgers since Pennsylvania.

We settled in for the evening of writing, making some calls to folks we were about to visit, transferring digital images from camera to computer, and working on our routing for the next weeks.

July 13, 2005 - Wednesday - Day 18

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 0- Total Miles: 4375 – Daily Average: 257.4 (travel days)
Rest Day in Superior, MT
(-stayed at the Budget Host Big Sky Motel (MT– 18/48)


Yup, decided on a rest day. Almost all the factors were weighing in favor of taking a day off: the price of the accommodations, the nice setting, the fine room, the wireless internet that worked, the availability of laundry facilities, the proximity to stores, and a few more. Besides the fact that we were pretty exhausted after more than 4,000 miles and 17 days on the road. The main negative was that we would not be able to touch base in Portland with friends we had met at a wedding we shot in April!

We watched some news on tv to catch up on things going on. (I hate doing that on a trip!) And we had a good nap.

I spent much of the day, as much as three hours on-line, with the great tech support people at Apple. Seems I had accidentally transferred 1000 pictures onto my desktop instead of into a folder. (I knew it would be problem if I had put them on the desktop, and I was soooooo careful, but...) Well, they talked me through a bunch of things, but then I figured a way to fix things through my image program which still seemed to work.

I also IM’d with friends back home, including website guru Carl. I told him how it was so good to have the site updated the one particular day when we checked into the Livingston Motel. They were asking about the trip and I told them about the website and the one guy in the back went right to it. He shouted out to the front desk where I was finishing the signing in process, "Hey, I didn’t know they added a fifth head on Mount Rushmore!!!" We all went back for a look, and everyone had a good laugh.

Karen got a bunch of things checked off her list today. She balanced her check statement on-line, she did her laundry, she wrote some old fashioned postcards, she worked some more on updating the expense listing, and she re-waterproofed our boots. She also patched the red bag that had fallen off yesterday on the highway. ("My new red waterproof bag now looks like a hobo bag!") She also made dinner from some of the stuff we grocery shopped (refried beans, salad fixings, pb&j, bread), made lunches for tomorrow and worked on our routing for the next few days ahead taking us into northern California.

I put together a picture showing what all goes on our bike for those trying to figure how we carry a lot of what we do. By clicking the image below, you will get a much larger version of it so you can see all its details.


PLEASE CLICK THE PICTURE

July 12, 2005 - Tuesday – Day 17

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 300 - Total Miles: 4375 – Daily Average: 257.4
12:30-7PM – 6.5 hours
Livingston,MT to Superior,MT (just west of Missoula)
(-stayed at the Budget Host Big Sky Motel (MT– 18/48)
- HEAT AND TRAVEL -


It was to be a travel day of mainly hunkering down and putting in the miles on a hot day in July motorcycling through the state of Montana.

We slept a little later than usual. Then it was heading into town to send some more things home – more articles that we didn’t need and some of Karen’s souvenirs she bought yesterday.

I had a wonderful morning run out into the country, down lanes with wonderful rural names like "Willow Bend." I was going out for the usual mile and then, as I like to do, thought of what I was hoping would be another way back. In some ways regrettably, it was not a way back without considerable rounding about to get to the main highway again. Got some good pictures along the way though.

Our first leg to Butte was 110 miles through the afternoon heat. Huge, mainly rocky mountain landscape on both sides throughout the day.

At Deer Lodge, a friendly fellow with a huge moustache was leaning out of his truck window with a warm wonderful smile on his face. Kelly was a water tester and I could see he was taking samples at that gas station. He traveled all over the state checking water purities. We chatted for awhile about Butte and how it had changed in the 18 years since I had been there before. I asked him if he remembered the buffalo that use to roam near the interstate, but he did not. He mentioned how much the place had grown in the intervening years.

Some dad at the Taco Bell in Missoula was wearing a t-shirt that read, "Bike Naked in Yellowstone – It Will Bring Color to your Cheeks!" I motioned him over with a smile and said to him, "Well sir, it begs the question, 'HAVE you biked naked in Yellowstone?'" He gave a hearty laugh and said no, not on this recent visit. His cute 4 year old or so daughter laughed at the idea.

Whenever we take off from a dead stop, I get a little couple taps from Karen on the back of my helmet to let me know she’s ready.

A few miles out of Missoula, toward the end of the day, the red little rain proof pack which we keep on the top of the back bag came flying off on Interstate 90! I saw it go in the rearview mirror, pulled over to the side, and then trudged the quarter-mile or so after it.

Karen noted it’s odd to see big billboards and advertisements just have seven digit phone numbers listed. Back home, of course, in the more populated East, we need 10-digits to even call across the street. She also noted that seeing the trees on the top of ridges reminded her of seeing old John Wayne movies where the Indians would be watching the wagon trains coming through the passes.

A common courtesy among motorcyclists is to give a little wave as we pass when we go opposite directions on the roadway. Except for the most hardnosed biker, most do. When riding, Karen and I both generally wave to a passing biker. Karen, so used to doing it by now, was walking along the street with me recently and gave a wave to a passing motorcyclist without even thinking.

I ran out of energy around 7:30ish and we decided to stop at 300 miles, well short of our goal of Spokane. Found a very nice and surprisingly reasonable place in Superior, MT, just off the interstate.

After I finished checking in, I came back to the bike where Karen was engrossed in conversation with someone who just had checked in. Tom was a bicyclist and he had brought his and his wife’s bicycle from Seattle (his license plate: RAINY 1). And they were in the area for some cycling. He was impressed with the map of my cycling and he told us that his daughter had bicycled around the world.

Karen got somewhat caught up on keeping track of the receipts and her emailings. I worked on the journal and was happy to finally have a room’s wireless internet work properly without losing time to get it fixed.

July 11, 2005 - Monday - Day 16

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 232 - Total Miles: 4075 – Daily Average: 254.7
9:30AM-7PM – 9.5 hours
Cody,WY to Livingston,MT (just east of Bozeman)
(-stayed at the Livingston Inn-) (WY,MT– 18/48)
- YELLOWSTONE – ROAD CONSTRUCTION – THE SCARY DESCENT -


It was a good night’s sleep at that little Six Gun motel. Like most places they had continental breakfast fare offered to the guests. This place had Smart Balance though, and I was so happy to have the butter substitute. It’s a very healthy way to get the butter taste, but with a healthy alternative. The woman owner said that’s all they use because of her husband’s heart problems.

Our run this morning took us to the nearby Walmart, but it hadn’t opened yet – it was only 7:30am. We stopped on the mc though a bit later on our way out of town and I got a couple more 1gig little drives to back up our pictures and words, some powder, and a Star Trek movie video we might watch some night or on a day off – if we’re stuck in a tent or room with nothing else to do.

We had our earliest departure of the trip – 9:30am!

After leaving Cody, we rode twenty miles through the Shoshone River Valley and the peaks on either side were without parallel in beauty and stark rock grandeur. It’s so different from what we’re used to! Seeing miles upon miles upon miles without a McDonalds or a Starbucks or a Subway or a gas station or even a building! Without seeing ANYthing built by people except the roadway – just nature for as far as vision will go. And in the case lately, nature that widens the eyes, and literally makes one go, "Ohhhhhh......"

At 10:25am we stopped to gaze drop-jawed at some of the peaks above and the valleys below. We enjoyed the rest of the soy cheese and lettuce in a sandwich. The little info sign there noted how artifacts had been found in the caves that now were 1000’s of feet in the air – demonstrating that at one time those areas were at water level.

The entry into Yellowstone is Sylvan Pass over Grizzly Peak (which reached 9948 feet!) and then around Yellowstone Lake. Well, as it turned out, the first three miles or more of that high cliff-hugging road was under construction because of a gigantic mud and rock slide last year. (Which incidentally, "took out" 18 vehicles according to a road worker there. Karen wished he hadn’t mentioned that part!)

One side of the narrow "road" was closed and one lane of traffic either way would be allowed to slowly snake past. We were at the end of one long line. It was all gravel in some parts, rough riding dirt in others. Much of it was over deep canyons – looking right over the edge for those who dared! For one with somewhat meager motorcycle riding skills it was a white-knuckle challenge to be sure. The road was uneven with hardly any guard rails and no lines at all. On the left was 1000’s of feet down toward forested areas and on the right was 1000’s of feet up toward big boulders and mountain craggy peaks. I was very glad when we hit the solid pavement again.

It was cold riding in the mountains this day. Surely in the low 40s, the air was fresh with pine scent, but biting on the skin. Karen put on a jacket underneath her motorcycling one and we both zipped up well and put on gloves.

We crossed over our first Continental Divide at Craig Pass (8262 feet!) to get to Old Faithful. Before Old Faithful was Keppler Rapids. When I was bicycling in Yellowstone in ’87, I came up to the wooden bridge that overlooks the fast moving river and there was a huge raven sitting on the end of the pier. I recited Poe’s poem to that big black bird and the park attendant who was there.

At the Fishing Bridge store area we gassed up for $2.45/gallon. Gas was much more expensive in the park area. We went through the little store where Karen purchased a sweatshirt, a nice pullover and a Wyoming charm.

As we were getting on the bike we met a couple motorcyclists from Michigan. The woman was a tall, nice looking blond beautician lady and the guy a shorter, unshaven firefighter fellow. We talked bikes a bit and then we noticed that they sure didn’t have hardly as much gear as we had. Karen asked them how they could travel around so light? The fellow said that they had a truck!! They would carry everything including the motorcycle around in the truck, then stop places, unload the bike and ride the area on the cycle. He also said his wife couldn’t ride on the bike more than 200 miles a day.

At 1pm as we were pulling through the little Fishing Bridge area, a grey wolf went loping across the roadway like he haughtily owned the place. Lots of folks stopped to stare, of course.

It was an emotional visit to Old Faithful for me. I remember so well my month-long 2,000-mile bicycle ride from Seattle to Denver Over the Rockies trip of ’87 and my glorious times around Old Faithful. (Came in dead tired one very late afternoon and caught the ‘show’ just right, but then after spending the night in the lodge there - which was special because it was at a time when I camped almost every single night. I was up early the next morning and was there for the erupting at around 6:30am – it was almost magical! There was no one else around, the swirling morning mist combined with the spouting and the silence was strong and eerie as the powerful burst surged upward and the scene with the low rising sun was caught perfectly in a series of some of my favorite photographs.)

This day we arrived toward mid-afternoonish. Much of the surrounding area was changed, of course, in the intervening 18 years since I had been there before. New buildings, no evidence of the old lodge where I had stayed, more highways and roadways and parking areas. We tooled into the parking lot and I suggested Karen get off with the video camera in case Old Faithful was to blow soon. As I parked, Karen trudged over the gravel area toward where a big crowd of people was waiting anxiously. And in fact, after I parked and started over, I could see the spouting of the great natural event making it’s way skyward. Karen had stopped just short of the crowd and had begun videoing.

We went to the spacious nearby gift/cafeteria place and being very, very hungry, we got some stuff from the cafeteria. Seems places that attract huge diverse crowds all cater to their differing needs and so it wasn’t tough finding vegetarian fare. We sat for a bit munching and looking out the window at the Old Faithful scene sitting on the comfy cane chairs and enjoying the ambiance. Then, after a sojourn through the gift shop, we made our way out to the forming large group of folks there to watch the next shot. Old Faithful, though not being as faithful as in earlier years, still comes up fairly regularly. The interval is between every 36 and 60 minutes or so. There are two rows of benches arranged in a semi-circle about 50 yards from the geyser, which attract the large crowd of folks. The people are of every age and description, and from all over the world.

As the time elapses, folks get aniticapatory. Someone joked, "I wonder if they turned it off for the day already?" We kept holding our cameras up waiting for the initial spouting to catch the geyser at the beginning of the shoot. There were several false little teasing burblings that got the crowd eager, only to be let down. Finally the stark hot water emitted through the ever-present steam and streaked into the blue of the sky. Over 100 feet into the air it shot and the single simple majesty of the event may have even captured the imagination and awe of some of the jaded kids there who now are accustomed only to pyrotechnics and computer-generated fanfare.

After the show, we made our way back to the parking lot and could see our hopes of reaching Missoula today fading quickly as the hours had elapsed and our time in Yellowstone lengthened. In fact, it was a vast misjudgment to think that we could zip through the natural wonders there with any kind of speed at all. One could visit this area for an hour, a day, a month, or a year, and STILL not have enough time to really get into it.

Gibbons Falls, on our way out of the park, was quite a treat as the Yellowstone River came splashing down several hundreds of feet into the basin and then running off into the long valley below. It was quite dramatic.

A Texan named Cliff came over to us with four cowboy handsome kids – who we guessed were his sons. The fellow rode a Shadow, but a smaller one than mine. They were on a tour from out of south Texas and he said they might head out to the coast. We talked about our rides and his trip with the boys. After a bit, four of them stood bravely down on a rock ledge out from the main viewing area for a picture. I would have been too scared to get down there, but they scrambled down and back like billy goats.

On our ride through the park there was still much evidence of the 1988 fire which burned much of the forest. Various degrees of blackened trees poked skyward like burned matchsticks. Karen noted how some trees had been stripped of their blackened charred coating, presumedly by the weather, and with the branches now only stubs, they gleamed like pewter rods in the sunlight against the blue sky.

During the day we saw a few huge elk in the distance with amazingly big racks. One huge bull elk we saw nibbling on some dinner from the roadside – and then we saw who we thought were our cowboy friends coming up right near the bull elk to get pictures! We also saw a few buffalo today, and man are they huge!

Coming off the mountain into Mammoth Springs! Now that was a descent of 7% for 2 miles or more mostly without guardrails looking down over unbelievable mountain landscaping rolling out to as far as could be seen. We got to the bottom and I said to Karen that I just closed my eyes and hoped for the best! Actually, my eyeballs were steadily riveted on the roadway in a non-blinking gaze – heart pounding, trying to keep my balance around the curving roads, nervous sweat rimming my forehead under the helmet.

One part of the road, around one of the sky-high cliffs, was suspended out from the mountain itself, as it was a huge shelf, and was held up by concrete struts planted into the mountian. I was able to guide the Shadow around and avoid one, but I was a nervous WRECK!

We rolled into Livingston, Montana, well short of projected distance for the day. There were three motels beside each other and after chatting with each, we decided on the one owned by the guy with the best smile – and who also gave us the best pricing. John and Tillie Lamey ran the Livingston Inn Motel and they keep a fine place there. John was especially helpful in getting the internet connection going for me and we had some good banter. (They advertise that "Horses are welcome, stalls available." And he told me once a guy came and asked for a stall for his wife and a bed for his horse! He also told me how awhile ago, a couple came in on motorcycles and had just been behind an amubulance on a mountainside. Seems the ambulance door popped open, and an an ice chest came flying out. As the folks behind were cleaning it up, they noticed somebody’s thumb in the ice! Ugh!)

We strolled over to the nearby restaurant where we got a meal which Karen enjoyed, but I impatiently nibbled at, hoping to get right back to the room to get working on these notes which I enjoy writing and not wanting to be up too late.

Was able to get on-line but only after a tech guy came to the room to get the internet link working. Learned that we had overshot someone we had wanted to meet back a few days ago in Wyoming. And I was sorry about that. We also have decided to modify our routing to dip south after entering Washington State so we could ride along the Coumbia River Gorge instead of taking the time to go to the most eastern part of the state and go up the Space Needle. (Both of us have been there already anyway.)

It was a double milestone day today as the Shadow passed 7,000 miles and our trip crossed over the 4,000-mile mark, which includes 18 states. Tomorrow we hope to add Idaho and Washington with an almost 500-mile day which would give us 20 states!

July 10, 2005 - Sunday – Day 15

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 183 - Total Miles: 3843 – Daily Average: 256.2
11:30AM-6PM – 5.5 hours
Buffalo, WY to Cody,WY
(-stayed at The Western 6-Gun Motel-) (WY – 17/48)
- MOUNTAIN RIDING - HAILSTORM! -


It was the longest sleep of the trip – not unexpected after yesterday’s night time ride. Arose at 8am and felt reasonably good. Spent the next couple of hours getting the journal notes in order and typing out a reasonably put together story of yesterday’s experiences. This motel was another place that advertised in-room high-speed internet, but it turned out to only work in the office.

We had brunch at Toca John’s. Also filled up on water and lemonade before heading out into the moderately warm day. Headed toward the gas station by the big highway but turned around when we saw gas there was $.12 more per gallon than at the in-town station. And that turned the whole day around because we got different directions there from a local woman who knew a beautiful route that would also cut 40 miles off the ride!

So after leaving Buffalo we eventually took Route 16 through the Big Horn Mountains. We began rolling over them at 1pm sharp. From this point on and for the rest of the day, we enjoyed mountain panoramas beyond description and defying grandeur.

On the downside of the tall range, there was another scenic byway. This one was jaw-dropping and neck-craningly gorgeous. This one made the Spearfish Scenic Byway mountains still glorious but like thimbles in comparison! We had great swooping road swings that presented vistas that reached as far as vision would go – all presenting colorful mountain and sky scenery.

For me it was mostly tough, careful riding in the mountains. Even at stops the slant of the roadway made it uncomfortable for me to keep control of the bike. I admired the riders who could zip around the sharp curves with seemingly little thought. I needed to tentatively approach them. We were getting so high there in elevation that we rode abreast crests that had snow patches on them! It is horse and cattle country here for sure. Passed one barn with the name proudly on it, "Horse Hotel."

At Ten Sleeps I saw a motorcycle come into the place where we were getting gas and the cycle had a trailer with a dog in it! I asked if I could take a photo and was told "sure," but that I should wait for the next one. I didn’t know what he meant until a few minutes later when another Harley roared up with a trailer that had 3 dog heads coming out of the specially devised dog trailers!

Also struck up a conversation with Peggy. She and her husband drove in on black Harleys and wearing leathers with quite a number of Remember the Vietnam vets patches on them. We chatted quite a bit about routing and had pictures taken. The couple was from Casper and rode quite a bit. She was very proud of her bike and it’s components.

We set out toward our goal of Yellowstone again. We rode through several small mountain communities, some numbering in only the low hundreds. One town, Emblem, Karen noticed had a population of TEN! We passed Greybull and then headed toward Cody.

Along the way the cloudscape became just magnificent. At one point, covering more than a quarter of the sky, an enormous white open claw-shaped cloud beckoned us into its pincer. Then off to the right of the pincer, covering at least half the sky before us was a cloud of enormous dark depth that resembled a shelf almost. It was very grey and made me think of the rolling clouds that were formed over Devils Tower in the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The "shelf" here reached almost to the horizon where it was still light grey, but with thunder bolts occasionally arcing down. It was such an amazing scene that I pulled the bike over to the side of the road for picture taking and video.

While we were there, cars passing maybe once every ten minutes, a bike with a trailer went by. A dark-haired woman in a tank top was riding with the guy. (Karen had talked with both of them back in Ten Sleeps.) She flashed us a huge smile and waved as she passed. I covered my tank bag just in case and suggested the opportunity was there for us to put any other rain gear on. But it was sunny ahead, so we elected not to do more.

About five minutes later, as we were approaching 100 miles since the last tank-up and actually hoping for a gas station soon, it began to get darker and darker and a gigantic splat hit the windshield, It was quickly followed by more splats and the air got noticeably very much colder. Then it got noticeably very much colder again. And then the rains REALLY began to cascade. So fast were the drops that it made seeing past the windshield almost impossible. Rain was waterfalling into my right boot!

And THEN the hail began falling – first, two or three minutes of smaller hailstones and then ping-pong ball sized hailstones bouncing off the road, pinging off the windshield, ponging off our helmets. Karen and I both wondered what that poor woman in the tank top in the passing cycle must be going through. The hail was hitting my ungloved hands on the handlebars so hard that it really hurt and the ice pellets were crashing into our legs with great force. My speed decreased in relationship to the lessening vision – both of which soon became almost zero. I pulled off to the side of the road best I could and we came to a dead halt. For a few minutes we just sat there as the hail continued pummeling us unabated. I wondered, "how long would it last?" I thought about how it had at least cleaned all the dead bugs off the windshield!

I could make out about 25 yards in front of us the man and woman who had passed us. He came over to me and said he had seen us on the side before, presumably putting on raingear, but that he was going to try and make it to the sun. We laughed. In about 10 minutes it began to lessen and then stop enough for us to begin traveling again. We saw other motorcyclists off to the side. In about ten more minutes the rain subsided and within another short space of time we were riding in bright sunlight.

We came into Cody only somewhat damp and tanked up at 107 miles. I’m fairly certain we could get 130 on a tankful, but always aim to get gas at 100 or so. Out here, where things are so far apart, I’ve been gassing up between 60 and 90 miles.

We casted about all the options and whether it would be better to stay here or move on to Yellowstone, but after checking out a few motels (with rates way too high into the $100+ range, we did settle on one for about $60, knowing that the rates in Yellowstone would be a lot higher.

The Six Gun Motel was run by a slim cowboy straight talkin’ guy, who moved here from Florida a number of years ago to cure his asthma, which was now gone. It had a guest laundry room, which was perfect, but it did not have a modern enough phone system to allow internet capability.

After checking into the room I headed out on the Shadow myself to find dinner. Went clear to the other side of town and to a Subway there, but they were out of bread! Then went to the Albertsons grocery next door and to my delight they had soy cheese – which I haven’t been able to find since leaving home. Got all the fixin’s for a cheese hoagie – and more stuff, too. On the ride back was a huge rainbow arching over part of Cody just past the Buffalo Bill museum, but on the other side of the road. It was thick and colorful and dynamic. I was sorry Karen was not there to enjoy it with me, but on our run, the rainbow was still colorful as ever.

I made the sandwiches while Karen showered and we ate them on the bench outside the room with a cool western breeze blowing upon us under cloud-strewn skies.

It was the start of our third week on the road. What sights we’ve seen! And what sights still to come!

July 9, 2005 - Saturday – Day 14

48 States or Bust – The USA on Two Wheels
Miles Today: 327 - Total Miles: 3660 – Daily Average: 261.4
11:30PM-10PM (!) – 7.5 hours (time zone change!)
Rapid City, SD to Buffalo, WY
(-stayed at an EconoLodge-) (SD – 17/48)
- THE FOUR BIG GUYS – SPEARFISH CANYON – STURGIS, ND - DEVIL’S TOWER – AND A LOSING RACE AGAINST DARKNESS –


We found a surprisingly good and rather inexpensive breakfast. We shared a bowl of delicious thick oatmeal and wonderful fluffy pancakes in the attached restaurant.

As we checked out, the friendly owner just let me have the data cord that was borrowed last night, and I made him promise to tell the lady on the night desk that I had come back to return it. As I figured, he had a lot of those cords laying around, and he offered it to me at no cost and with a smile.

We got on the road to Rushmore about 11:30ish. It would be a 25-mile jog down to the four big guys, and then we’d head back this same way to get back onto Interstate 90 west.

It was warm, and got up to over 100º today. We motored on up to the monument through spectacular clear weather, and lucked out with the sun just hitting it right. The presidential faces poked up on the hillside and looked magnificent. There were workers up on the faces this particular morning doing a cleaning job. (It did look kind of disrespectful seeing the folks rappelling over the foreheads and eyeballs of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt, but I guess it was for a good cause. I learned that a tv crew was there earlier, and that Katie Couric had said something like that she wouldn’t want the job of cleaning out Washington’s nostril!) Since I was there last the whole place had changed with regard to parking and gift shops, etc. There’s a huge parking garage built into the mountain now. I learned a lot that I didn’t know (or had forgotten) about the place. The idea of the sculpture came from a South Dakota state historian. It took about 14 years and the labor began in October 1927 and ended in October 1941. It was named after a New York lawyer, Charles E. Rushmore, who was in the Black Hills in 1885 researching minding claims. He asked his guide the name of the big mountain there and reportedly got the answer that immortalized his name on the landscape from his guide. The guide said, "Never had none. But hereafter we’ll call ‘er Rushmore, by Jingo!"

Originally Lewis & Clark, Buffalo Bill Cody, and Chief Red Cloud were going up there. But Gutzon Borglum, the sculpture preferred carving the presidents so that the sculpture would be of national significance. For Borglum, Washington represented the birth of our country, Jefferson the expansion, Lincoln the preservation, and Roosevelt the development!

We enjoyed walking around there and seeing the huge faces from various spots. We were frequently, in our yellow suits, mistaken for the workers who were up on the mountain. It was tempting to just play along, but I would tell them they were mistaking us.

When one in a family had to be out of a picture so the picture could be taken, I would volunteer to take the shot so everyone could be in the pose. I did this a number of times, but was turned down with a big group from Norway. The fellow said he would just Photoshop himself into the group.

Chatted with one of the friendly gift shop guys, and I asked him how business was. He reported that although they had some busy days, that since the economy was slow, and because of the high gas prices, there was less discretionary cash for people to spend, that things were a little off business-wise.

We left Mt. Rushmore around 1ish, after taking a bazillion pictures, having stopped briefly in the wonderful gift shop area, and getting back to the bike on level 5 of the parking facility – which by-the-way, cost $8 to use. We met a guy named Billy Ray Osbourne there who was riding an Iron Butt Parks Tour where he would have to ride through a bunch of national parks in a short amount of time. He said he was going up for a look, then leaving right away for the next park.

From Rushmore we went back through Rapid City as planned and then got on the big highway. As we left the area, we rode through the smoke of what must have been an absolutely HUGE forest fires off to the left. From the distance we could see the smoke billowing into the clouds and I was afraid that the road would be closed. It wasn’t by the time we got through.

We took the Sturgis exit and went right to the Motorcycle Hall of Fame. It was only a few weeks until the big Sturgis Rally, the grandpappy of all motorcycle gatherings. Motorcycle enthusiasts all know the Sturgis name – in fact, more than a half million motorcyclists make the pilgrimage there each year to descend upon the little town. This is the 65th anniversary of the big bike bash in Sturgis, ND. 70% of the bikers at Sturgis ride Harleys, and the next biggest chunk of riders are on Hondas, followed by 5% on Yamahas. Here’s a quote from an advertising piece, "Founded by motorcycle shop owner Clarence "Pappy" Hoel and his Jackpine Gypsies Motorcycle Club, the first rally featured 19 racers vying for bragging rights on a half-mile dirt track. Sixty-five years later, the Sturgis Rally has become one of the most popular motorcycle rallies in the world." By-the-way, 51% are between 41 and 53 years old.

We had a good time going through the small museum. There were a lot of old-time motorcycles that were fun to look at, and the folks were friendly there. Several times folks engaged us about our journey and it was fun talking about it. I’m not really much into the big crowd Sturgis thing, so I was glad to be there before the multitudes arrived. We bought Official Sturgis bandanas for friends Sparky and Dave who had ridden out with us on that first day two weeks ago. I also tried to call them from the museum, but had to leave messages for both.

From about 3:30 to 4pm we took a refreshing lunch break and sun block application break. I had been having a little problem with something in my right contact lens. Kept trying to wash it out at the restaurant. It was a few more hours before the problem went away. Just a little speck in there I guess.

Instead of staying on the highway we took the 14A exit to Deadwood which would also give us the Spearfish Canyon loop back to the highway. It was a good decision. I’ve bicycled down 100’s of canyons but only two or three were better than this one. From the high cliffs to the sky and the burbling Spearfish Creek below it was wondrous riding with fabulous views. Karen took 100’s of pictures from the backseat as we rode along. The air was fresh and we’d hit those pockets of cool air along the way that were as surprising as they were refreshing. The Spearfish Scenic Byway went on for almost 20 miles of glorious views. It was memorable.

Then we were on the big super-slab awhile into Wyoming and toward Devils Tower. As we were on the off-shoot road to Devils Tower I glanced upward in the cloud-spotted sky, and there was an absolutely amazing and life-memorable sight. Four little white tufts of clouds were one beside each other in a horizontal row. And darned if they didn’t seem to spell out J - O - E - L !!!! Karen noticed the letters, too, and got a picture of them. The nice coincidental cloud alignment brought even more of a smile to my face.

Considering that we had more than 120 miles to go to the room we had reserved in Buffalo, WY, it was getting late as we pulled into the guard station at Devils Tower. The nice park ranger lady allowed us in at no charge even though I couldn’t quite get my hands on our Park Pass. We wound our way around the approach and up to the base of the big tower. Again, we caught the setting sunlight just right on the rock.

In 1906 President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed Devils Tower the first national monument. He acted to protect the Tower from commercial exploitation. Although scientists aren’t sure exactly and the Indians have their legends, the best guess is that an igneous intrusion is what caused the 867 foot tower. Seems that about 60 million years ago molten magma was forced into sedimentary rocks above it and cooled underground. As it cooled it contracted and fractured into columns. Over millions of years, erosion of the sedimentary rock around it then exposed Devils Tower. It’s an awe-inspiring sight.

If I had to do it over again and knowing what I knew at the end of the day, we would have camped there at Devil’s Tower. But we had already made the motel reservation for further down the road.

We left around 7:30pm, and then we had the rush to get the many miles to Buffalo, WY (our 17th state) before dark. The darkness caught us, and we rode about 75 miles through the amazing red sunset and into the night darkness. This part of the ride surely surpassed anything difficult for me so far. My hands felt positively cemented to the handlebar grips and my eyes glued to the ever-dimming roadway. And I could feel the tension spread across my back as each maneuver in the ever-decreasing light became more and more important to safety. Eventually we were trucking along at 70mph as I stuck as mightily as I could just back of the tail lights ahead of me. Soon that guy got away and I was content to motor along at 60mph within the ever-beaming reflectors on each side of the road and beside the roadway lines. There were no overhead street lamps, of course. Occasionally, the road lines were obliterated by dark new surfacing upon the highway. THAT was scary!

For the brief peeps I was able to take, the sky around was tantalizing as it turned from sunshine to dusk to dark. After the spectacular western sunset, huge rows of dark clouds rimmed the heavens. At one point there was a big rectangular window in the long bank of dark clouds showing light through it alone. There were pockets of heat that blasted against us, and then times when we were awash with cool-to-cold breaths of breeze. Through my rear-view mirror the scene was total blackness! Occasionally a car would pass. Once a big truck shuddered past us. And the bugs dotted the windshield more frequently than in the daytime, also squashing themselves against our hands and pants.

It wasn’t until 10pm that we rolled off the interstate and sought out the motel. I was in no mood – or shape - for anything other than a shower and sleep. (And I would have foregone the shower if it weren’t for the scores of bugs I saw on my yellow pants.)