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2016 Rocky Mountain Lone Wolf Tour

12K views 102 replies 19 participants last post by  DriftlessRider 
#1 ·
For the past several years I’ve been able to shake free for a week or two in the summer to take an extended motorcycle trip. Those are all documented in painful detail in this forum, and at http://edcallahan.com/TripReports (I whittle away winter migrating them there).

This year I was able to take two full weeks. I have a cool wife who doesn’t mind (sometimes I almost get the feeling she’s eager for me to leave?), and I have the time off from work, and my health, so I’m lucky.

The last couple years I’ve met up with my Dad so we could ride together, but this year our schedules didn’t work out. So, I was free to put on more miles than he likes. I dipped into the bucket list, and pulled out a trip to the Rocky Mountains. Glacier, Banff, Jasper and Yellowstone. The Bighorns, the Black Hills and the Badlands.

I’d go solo. No one to compromise with that way, and no one to blame but myself if I stopped having fun. I would drive a fellow rider crazy with my constant and random stopping and too frequent U-turns.

I got some good help planning the trip at http://www.triumphrat.net/ride-trip-reports/689538-planning-wi-to-banff-to-yellowstone-to-home.html. It was going to be more miles and more heavily scheduled than I usually like. But, I decided to try and pack in more parks and get pretty far north in Canada. So I’d be driving past some stuff without time to explore. And since I’d be in national parks I needed to reserve campsites, so there wouldn’t be too much room to wing it.

I followed the plans pretty closely. It ended up being a 5,127 mile trip over 15 days. Some struggles and some awesome moments, somewhere between an Adventure and a Vacation, but either way, definitely worth doing.



http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains.html
 
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#2 · (Edited)
Day 1

I was going to grind out three days to Glacier, then take a full day to explore it. The more miles I packed in on the first two days the earlier I’d get to Glacier on Day 3, and more time to play.

I totally re-wrote my Day 1 plans the day before I left. Looking at maps with a buddy and co-worker I realized I wouldn’t add too many miles if I just shot straight north into north-country, instead of weaving south of the Twin Cities and over to Fargo. And he had a good road recommendation north of Grand Rapids, and a campground and restaurant recommendation in Grand Forks.

It turned into a fairly smooth 529 mile day:


http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day1.html

The day started perfect. Blue skies, cool air and a breeze off Lake Pepin. I rode up the river, and didn’t get too far before my first stop. There’s a little bakery in Maiden Rock I always meant to stop on, so I got a cup of coffee and a muffin and a sandwich for later.



Back on the road, I was thinking it’s not often the air is this cool and this humid. Then ahead, I could see clouds on the horizon. Then, it started raining. This would be a theme of the first half of the trip. I looked at the radar and the showers were pretty scattered, so I just got wet. But I caught each and every shower, and by lunchtime was soaked.

I stopped to take a picture of this cairn for @PopPop. They were all over the place marking property boundaries. @PopPop is a retired surveyor, and that sounds boring, but I have witnessed him enthrall a beach load of people with stories of the initial surveying of The West. He had the ladies eating out of his hand :)



A tiny bit of drama on Day 1: I was cruising through a reservation in the rain on a minor back road, bothering no one and no one bothering me, and all of a sudden something was in front of me out of the ditch. I hit the brakes hard enough that my crown jewels hit the tank. And as I scrubbed off speed trying not to hit the damn thing, I realized there was a wide fan of white feathers just forward and to the right of my front tire. It was a freaking Bald Eagle. When I got stopped and it got away, I realized that if I had thought about it, and was a tad evil, I could have just eased off the brakes just a bit and hit it. And would have had some awesome pictures of a downed Bald Eagle. But I would never do that, even if I had thought of it in time. Really. Honestly.

I doubled back and there was this swamp by where it had come up, with eagles and vultures sitting in these dead trees in the misty drizzle. It was spooky, probably spiritual. I moved on before the spirits got me.

By Grand Rapids I was dry again and the sky was blue. I grabbed Rt 38 north. A totally optional out-of-the-way side trip, but my buddy told me it was a really fun road that his wife hated because it made her seasick. At first I was disappointed, but then I got into the National Forest. It turned into one of those small, pretty-smooth roads that jogs and weaves around all the little lakes. Twisty and fun and totally worth it.

I found my way to Bemidji. I work at a state university, Winona State. Bemidji State is a sister college I’ve never seen, so I wanted a visit. It’s a small and nice campus. Behind it is a lake and Diamond Point Park, a beautiful park with Adirondack chairs and a cool breeze off the lake. It was late afternoon and I was a bit tired. But a sit in a proper chair with the lake breeze and blue skies and the sandwich I bought in the morning was completely refreshing. I put in my earphones and a book-on-tape and made the boring run to Grand Forks.



At East Grand Forks I found a campsite at the Red River State Recreation Area. This used to be a neighborhood that got flooded by that river one-too-many times. So they removed the homes and made it a campground. It’s kinda cool with the grass lawns and city streets and no houses.



I setup and wandered over the the Blue Moose, a restaurant/bar right next door. Highly Recommended. I ordered what I order when it’s not a martini place: double Tanqueray on the rocks with a lime and just a splash of tonic. Two of those, a salad, some sweat potato chips and some awesome high-quality barely-cooked tuna slices just put me in the most excellent mood. I sat there messing with my phone and camera happy as a clam.

This was the deal for the trip. I camped several nights, maybe five or six? But I never took out my camp stove. I never setup a clothes line. I slept outside but ate and drank at restaurants or from whatever I bought up-the-street. No complaints there.

 
#4 ·
Day 2

Day 2 was a pretty straightforward, and straight road, day blasting through North Dakota and into Montana on Rt. 2. A bit over 500 miles by the time I was done.



http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day2.html

I stopped at the Grand Forks Air Force Base so see if I could spy any drones or something. Nothing in the air, but they had some display pieces out front:





B52 is bigger than a motorcycle, it’s not just an optical illusion:


Hound Dog cruise missile launched from the B-52



I rode around the base fence line a bit, looking for sights to see. I took this little back road and almost lost it in this really slimy mud. Later I will have wished I had learned from that experience. But it was on my boot and foot peg and my foot kept sliding off. I may need different pegs one day with a bit more grip.

The ride was straight forward. I just listened to my earbuds most of the day. I'd go as fast as the bike would let me. With the Heidenau Scouts it got a bit squirrely around 80 mph, especially if I was in the turbulence from a truck or something. The bike would start this weave, the first little hints of a tank-slapper. So I'd ease off the throttle a bit.

It wasn’t ugly, there were prairie potholes about, and some roll to the land.



I was dry, if a tad hot.

Minot was a drag. You know, farmers and ranchers build communities. They will pass their land on to their kids most likely, and the operation will go on for generations. They are invested in the land and the community. The oil guys in Minot and the like are in it to take what they can and leave. Money for money’s sake. No need to build anything to last, no need for aesthetics, just suck what you can out of the land and people and move on. Every man for themselves, no allegiance to anyone. The crappy barracks that are built here-and-there to house the workers look a nightmare. I was happy enough to get out of there.

The land just to the west of Minot on Rt 2 is looks that is was really pretty at one time, lots of topography from river action. Kinda spoiled with roads and scattered houses now.

I made it to Glasgow, MT. It was hot and the day was long, I grabbed a motel room. A couple beers and a Subway sandwich. Hung my tent up in the shower, it was soaked with dew when I packed it.




I heard a bit of noise and opened the door and got pelted by wind and sand. A huge thunderstorm was rolling through. Lightning and thunder banging. I pulled the bike under the eaves of the building and enjoyed the show. Afterward I walked around town to view the aftermath. It was horrific. Well, a bit less than horrific, but some flowerpots did get knocked over.




To fully appreciate the Rockies, I think it’s necessary to spend a few days crossing the flatlands to get perspective.
 
#5 ·
Day 3


http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day3.html


Day three was drama day.

I had about 330 miles to get to East Glacier. I figured if I got an early start and didn’t stop for anything, I should get there early afternoon. How do you think that went?

Well, I got packed up early enough. There were rain showers around. I kept waffling about putting my raingear on or not, in the end I threw it on and got down the road.

I had my day-by-day and turn-by-turn directions laid out on half pages to put in my tank bag. Not too far down the road, as I turned around to look at a dry gulch I just passed (so much for no stops), I saw a couple pages flutter down out of the bag and past my leg. The Velcro seal there is worn out, and it wasn’t holding papers. So, I wandered back and forth recovering what I could.

And there in the ditch in a Ziploc bag was a Holy Bible, just laying there to be found. "Oh great, here comes my divine intervention and religious conversion as the Lord presents himself to me" I feared. I really didn’t have time for such things, I wanted to get to Glacier early.

But I opened that bag to look inside the book, and inside the front cover was a sticker that started “Jewish Spies HERE! Photographing, collecting data on military, veterans, National Guard, students and civilians. You are on their RED list!”. And there was a typed page of “What the Jews believe”, which boiled down to they are apparently baby-eating fornicating devils. So, I was saved, this was not the divine intervention I had pictured. Just a bunch of deranged hate packaged very close to some loving spirituality. Ying and Yang. Evil and Good. Fun stuff to chew on while riding down the road.



I put it back in the ditch for the next traveler.

Worst part of motorcycling is the inability to drink sufficient amounts of coffee. So at my first gas stop at a little place in the middle of Montana I got a cup. Inside were a few local ranchers sitting and chatting. What I noticed is they were talking about the world: New York City, the Olympics, the state of Central America, terrorism. Not really terrifically heady stuff, but a far cry more interesting than some of the we-see-each-every-day coffee klatch gossip and boredom I kind of wanted them to notice me so I could join them for a while, but they were too smart for that and I went out with my coffee to pump gas.

Outside I found someone more my intellectual equal. This border collie mix comes up to have his head pet, but when I moved too fast he recoiled and slunk away. I called him a wimp, but he came back with a stick. And we played fetch and I told him stories and when I was busy he just hung out with me. I still kind of miss him, he’s a good dog. But when I left I told another guy who arrived for gas that if he needed a friend he could have that one. And I think he might have taken me up on it.






I took a stop a Sleeping Buffalo Rock, just a little pull-off at a road crossing. I think I was going to put my rain gear off, but I ended up waiting out a rain cloud sitting inside. Sad that these landmarks aren’t still sitting on top of their appointed hills. There were offerings left on top of them. I left a coin, hope that was appropriate.









 
#6 ·
Drama

After a bit more riding, rain gear off but a storm cell just hanging out to the south, I pulled a 180 to check out a dirt road going back into the grasslands. I was ready for a break. I kind of suspected it was BLM land, but even if private it wasn’t marked. I crossed the cattle guard and headed out there.

The road looked fine. There were puddles that I went around, but the surface looked dry. Somewhere between a gravel and dirt road. I plowed through one puddle and about lost it. The mud just stuck to the tires, it stuck to my boot and pegs, it was all a slick mess.




So, this was not the type of adventure I was looking for. I took a break, took some pictures and figured I’d just stand on the pegs and pick my way out gingerly, and get to Glacier as early as I could.

I was a tad nervous about it, more in the back of my mind than the front, but just tinges of adrenaline. I was eyeing a deeper mud pit ahead when the back end slid out on a minor little wetness. And I’m not sure what happened from there. I corrected, over-corrected and was down.



I got the air knocked out of me. But I was up before I really knew if I was hurt or not. On inspection I was fine, both my knees had taken a good whack but basically that was it.

The bike I wasn’t sure about, but no need to worry, I just needed to let my fate unveil itself to me. I unloaded the bike and stood it up. And it didn’t look good. I know these bikes don’t like being dropped on their left, the shifting rod tends to get pushed into the transmission and bend, and I wasn’t going to go far without a transmission. And sure enough …




So I pondered that a bit. Didn’t look like I was going to see much of the Rockies, maybe next year. A flatbed to Missoula? A week or so waiting on parts? Would I go home on a repaired bike or a bus or a new bike? Not the trip I had hoped for.

I grabbed the shift lever with my hand to give it a pull and see how the transmission felt, and damned if it didn’t just rotate for me. Had it just rotated around, transmission unscathed? So I broke out the tools and removed and relocated the lever back to where it belonged. The transmission seemed to click through the gears OK.

I carried my gear down past the worst of the mud, then duck-walked the bike down and loaded up. I picked my way back to Rt 2. When I made it there I got off to check my load again and take another look at the bike. The next mile would tell me a lot about my transmission. But, I got back on and it wouldn’t start.

Sigh. But, I then I realized the kickstand was down and all was well. :)

Good news is the transmission was fine. Bad news was the bars were cocked to one side pretty bad. I wasn’t decided on how far I’d be willing to ride like that, but I figured I’d take a stab at a fix. I didn’t have all the tools I needed, so I limped to Malta and parked in front of an auto parts store. I told the guy at the desk my story, said I might need to buy or borrow some tools, and I’d be back. First, I needed a proper breakfast.

I wasn’t going to be any good with low blood sugar, and I did need to let the last of the adrenaline leave my body. I was OK, but just needed to settle before digging into the bike.

After some coffer and two over-easy and potatoes and bacon and toast and a cup-to-go I wandered back to the bike. I grabbed some pieces of stucco that had fallen off a house on the way. I asked the guy in the shop if I could borrow a bottle jack. I meant from the trunk of his car, but he pulled one off the wall and opened the box and handed me a new one. He was going to be cool.

I started by just removing the handlebars and loosening the risers to see if they had just shifted on the triple tree, but no joy. So, I put the stucco pieces under the kickstand to stand to the bike up some and jacked the right-front corner of the bike up until the wheel was just a half inch off the ground.

I was surprised how long I was alone working on the bike. I mean, a guy packed for travel taking apart his bike in front of an auto part store? That should draw guys like flies. Finally a guy came out of a laundromat across the street to see what was up, and he had a hex key I needed. Then a couple of guys in a work truck stopped by. They were out of Wisconsin and part of a crew that laid fiber optic cable. They were real upbeat and wanted to know how they could help. I said I needed a big wrench, they pulled out this big drawer of tools and I realized the worked on Cats and stuff. I told them I needed a small wrench.

We loosened the front wheel. The forks in the triple-tree and the top plate of the triple tree. I tugged on stuff and twisted stuff until it all seemed to be where it wanted to be, then we tightened everything back up. These guys were great. I told them about how I went down, and they just said yeah, we don’t even go out in that stuff. We shut down for it, we call it gumbo. No advice or judgement, just: yup, that sucks. They helped but didn’t want to twist any bolts themselves, not our bike they said. When it started raining they said no worries, we stand around in this stuff all the time. After a test ride and the bike seemed pretty straight and the handlebars pretty true, I said thanks. They said, no worries, sucks to deal with stuff like that alone.

I returned the bottle jack and chatted with that guy quite a while, he raced and I saw pictures of his car, and just stuff. Finally, I told him he had a real nice town there, and got back on the road.

I have to say, I’m almost happy the wreck happened. I almost enjoyed working on the bike with those guys, mostly in the rain. Adventure or Fun, it was in there somewhere and I was pretty glad for it. Wasn't going to get to Glacier early though.
 
#7 ·
Some ways down the road I stopped again to take my raingear off. At this boarded up church, complete with squeaking gate. The Jesuit Sacred Heart Church cemetery on an Indian reservation, just east of Harlem. I called home and agreed with wife that I was pretty far from home and to be careful. Then I checked out the cemetery. These are always fascinating to me. Christian with the crosses, but also traditional with mounds and gifts for the journey left behind.


















The last couple, veterans buried with American flags for their journey ... about this time in the news some twat-waffle politician had warned our current President that "Real America" was going to come after him. These veterans, people-of-color, living "on the dole" on a reservation, buried with American flags in pride ... I do wonder if they count as "Real Americans" to that country-club wasp prick. Oh, anyways, you can get a flavor of the thoughts in my helmet there :)


I was going to stay at a hostel in East Glacier that night, a place above a bakery/pizza place called Brownies Bakery and Hostel. I called and warned them I might be in late. As I plowed ahead I finally got a glimpse of the Rockies, almost. There was a lot of storms over there. And sure enough I suited up and got positively pounded. A ton of rain, cold rain, and enough electricity in the air that I started wondering when it was just stupid to be on a bike.

But I made it, even before the bakery closed. They weren't selling beer because it was a Native American holiday season and we were on a reservation, but I had a flask.

I forget what I ate. I had a warm shower and hung my clothes to dry. I sat outside and listened to the rain and sipped some scotch, and when I got cold I came inside and sat with the other hostellers. Finally some conversation sparked up, primarily with some young interns doing some wildlife stuff, going into their college senior year without a plan. I was under a roof, survived the day unscathed, and all was well.
 
#9 ·
Day 4

I was going to sleep in the same bed two nights in a row, and Day 4 was left to easy exploring of Glacier National Park.



http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day4.html

I could have slept in late, but I was in a bunk room with a bunch of other guys. Sleep wasn’t that easy.

While waiting for the diner next door to open I chatted with a guy travelling out of Chicago who was from India. We talked about the ideal vacation to India, because I told him I was intimidated by the country. I’ve seen too many pictures of trains with people hanging off the outside, motorcycles with 6 people on them, and crazy traffic. He told me there was no way to talk about just “India”, it is too big and diverse. We looked at a map on his phone, and he walked me through the mountains to the north, desert to the west, tropical rain forest to the southeast. What to do in each region. Which cities to visit (briefly). I should have recorded the whole conversation. A real decent guy. I am convinced to go to India one day.

Next door was the Whistle Stop Café, which is apparently known for the deep fried huckleberry stuffed French toast. But I got a smoked salmon omelet:



I wandered back over to Brownies for another cup of coffee and to pack for the day’s ride. Not in a hurry, but I figured the earlier I got out the more wildlife I might see. I’d seen antelope already, that put in a western mood. And Magpies.

I got an overly-direct Hello from a guy with a backpack and a tattoo of a hand grenade on his neck, loitering on the deck of Bownies. He explained that he grew pot in Colorado for half the year, and traveled for half the year. He slept in the post office the night before. See, he traveled without money to get the “authentic experience”. He had earned $30 that morning helping a guy who had just hit a deer in his car. So, living off the land so to speak. He said he smoked weed every day (lot of information for 3 minutes of knowing each other). I asked if he was worried about holding so much weed, but he said no, the cops were cool. They knew he was a traveler. I wasn’t so sure about that, and when he asked for a ride into the park I explained I was on a motorcycle and couldn’t help. Truth be told, I could have been alone in a 12 passenger van lonely and desperate for conversation, and I probably would have told him the same thing. He was actually cool enough, just a bit too much personality for my taste.

I rode into East Glacier, looked for a hardware store so I could get a bolt to re-attach the bar end mirror that had snapped off when I dumped it, but no luck.

I still wasn’t sure about the bike. The bars were pretty straight, but the bike pulled to the right now. I had a throttle lock, and coming over Rt 2 I could engage that and ride with no hands without issue. Now the bike pretty authoritatively pulled to the right. I could control if with a leg on the tank and a lean to the left, but something was off. And something didn’t feel “just right”. There was a change in handling that made me uncomfortable. But I wasn’t sure how much was real and how much was in my head.

I had it in mind I might ride to a bigger town with tools and work on the front end again. But at the end of the day, first I rode to West Glacier via Rt. 2. Not the most fun road, but mountains were in the clouds and I wanted to give it some time to hopefully clear.





I puttered up the beginning of Going to the Sun road, hoping the clouds would lift. They wouldn’t. They stayed planted for days. I had good luck driving past any pullout or attraction with a lot of cars, and taking breaks were no one else was stopped. Not sure what I missed, I bet nothing but a crowd.






I started the climb and it started raining. Gear on, camera into its dry bag. Not too much to the ride to the top. Bad visibility, very bad at times, cold and wet. There would be a break in the clouds sometimes and a glimpse of something, but it was largely a bust.

At the top at Logan Pass I pulled out to get under a roof to move my phone and wallet to drier pockets. We were socked in.



As I walked back to my bike I looked to my right and was shocked by this clear view of the green valley below. Where did that come from? And as I dug out my phone for a picture, the clouds closed in again and just like that it was gone.

Coming down the east side, not too far down the road, the clouds opened again. It was really a beautiful view, I spent a while there. And the best part was the clouds. They would roll down from the top, fall into the valley and block the view. Then they’d climb the walls and disappear. Always a fun time looking down on the clouds, especially when they’re moving around like that.





 
#11 ·
The bike did good. I decided not to work on the forks anymore. They weren't perfect, but on a risk/reward level I decided I had more to lose than to gain trying to fix them. Didn't want to strip a bolt or something on the road basically.

I blew a fork seal on the trip too. Not sure if that was related to the wreck or not. The bike has quite a few miles on it, it probably is just time to rebuild them (in fact, I spent today working on that).

My jetting sucked, and one day I might start a different thread about it. Although, for whatever reason carb jetting threads pull the jerks out of the woodwork ;) But, I have a A/F meter permanently installed and I've been happy with my jetting for quite a while. But recently someone told me I was stupid and my jetting was obviously way too rich. So, I tried slightly smaller mains. And the bike got stupid lean. Which surprised me because I didn't change the mains that much. But I put the original jets back in. And I was stupid rich the entire trip. And my gas mileage sucked. I was running around 12 most of the trip, sometimes up to 13 but not often. And at high elevations below 12.

I just decided to live with it. I had little choice. I always remind myself that old Royal Enfield Bullets held together with baling wire and duct tape climb the Himalaya's all the time. A bike does not have to be in perfect condition to travel on. And mine did the job.

What is driving me crazy is that as soon as I got home, my mixture was perfect. 13.8 to 14, bang on. Has been ever since I got home. What the fuque? When I'd done with the forks I'm going to pull the carbs and inspect them, and calibrate my A/F meter and take it from there.

Only other issue with the bike is the speedometer needle swings pretty wildly. I relied on my tach for speed management. I looked at the cable today and it seems fine. I'm worried it's the speedo itself. I've noticed little grease spots on the numbers on the odometer, I'm wondering if a seal in the speedo didn't let go somewhere? I really don't want to replace it, I want to watch it roll over 100k next year!

All in all though, mechanically-wise I happy with the Bonnie. It's a rugged workhorse and isn't very finicky. It keeps just motoring on.
 
#12 ·
Did you consider the effect of less air at high altitude? That'll make a carb run richer.

I used to travel out there every year for fly fishing trips. Every car I've ever had got much better mileage in the West than I ever did in the East. I figure the cars were tuned lean for EPA proposes and taking some air away made it richer and more fuel efficient.

Anyway....that's my working theory. I have no idea if it's right, but I do know that I got consistent 4 mpg better in the mountains than I did back in Kansas.
 
#14 ·
To finish out Day 4: The weather got much better once I dropped elevation. Those clouds just hung over Glacier for days, but everything around it was pretty much blue skies and wonderful.

I ran north to Many Glacier, more cool mountains there.




Coming out I had maybe the best bear sighting of trip. A bunch of cars were pulled over. My camera was packed away because of the weather, but I dug out my little 12x binoculars. There was this huge cinnamon bear out there. Massive. At one point it stood up and looked in my direction, and he felt real close because of the binocs, and a shriveled a bit. It started moving close, and a Ranger told everyone to get in their vehhicles and leave immediately. I loitered by the bike a bit, not wanting to be the first to go. The Ranger walked over to me, not sure if he was going to shoo me away or what, but I said "I don't have a vehicle to get into". He said "That was your decision, put on your helmet" and smiled and walked off. I loitered a bit and left. Based on size and color a lot of folks thought it was a griz, but it didn't have the hump over it's shoulder blades. It was just a big impressive black bear.

Heading back to East Glacier I encountered Awesome Motorcycle Road #1: Rt 49 between 89 and East Glacier. You have to watch for the free-range cattle, and horses, but they aren't jumpy. If they're on the edge of the road they'll stay there. Nice fairly tight corners, the type that have you guessing what's on the other side. The pavement not perfect but interesting, not bad. Honestly, about my favorite type of road. Not sweepers, they don't interest me enough, but quicker and tighter corners that keep you on your toes. These curves rebuilt my confidence in the bike, and was when I finalized the decision to delay repairs to the front end until I got home.

I was riding the curves in traffic. Which wasn't perfect but I concentrated on being smooth and maintaining an exact distance from the vehicle in front of me. Just a game I play. I pulled of at a pullout and another car did the same, I really don't remember if it had been in front of me or behind me. And I'm not bragging, just telling what happened, this younger dude jump out of his car grinning ear-to-ear and shouted "You know how to ride!". :) He and his girl were vacationing from Pennsylvania. Back home he rode a rat bike it sounded like that he's worked on a bunch, and she had just passed her MSF course. We talked quite a while. He had proposed to her just the day before at Yellowstone, and now they were engaged. They were on cloud nine full of young love. Quite fun to be near, and I'm glad they gave me their time.

Eventually, they drove off and I walked down a short path to look at some grave sites I noticed. Not sure how they got permission t be burried there, but we were on a reservation so the rules are likely different. Can't really think of a much better location:








Back at Brownies I bought a few beers, but left all but one in the cooler. And went back for the others as needed. I needed to do laundry and I entered extreme social mode. I'm actually not that social a guy, at least in some circumstances. But I ended up hanging out in the laundry room quite a bit after my clothes were done. Drank my beer and at some pizza slices from Brownies and chatted with a lady from Maine (wicked excellent accent) and her husband who was an ex-Marine now civilian contractor air traffic controller. And the newly engaged couple showed up again. Maybe some other characters came-and-went.

Then upstairs to sit on the deck, switched to my scotch, and chatted with a couple from Houston who were out on a vacation. Parents of young ones who left the kids behind with the parents. Building shared experiences to talk about beside which kid needs to be where when, what's for dinner, and on-and-on. Good for them.

Eventually, I got talked out and went to bed. There were three guys who were just plain drunk and not interesting, so I scrammed. I crawled into my bunk and they were on the other side of the window. They were a bit loud, betting each other $100 about something. Then as I started to put in my ear plugs I heard one say "where's that guy on the motorcycle". Crap. So I laid there listening, until I was sure their attention drifted to something else, and when I was convinced I was off their radar I put in the earplugs and got some sleep.
 
#15 ·
Day 5

Day 5 was a ride up to Banff, a 380-mile day.



http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day5.html

I got an early start and tried hard to sneak me and myself out of the bunk room without waking everyone. A tough deal with those squeaky floors. Loaded up and got me a crab-meat omelet next door, then a sandwich for the road from Brownies and said goodbye.

Glacier was still pretty socked in, but weather looked good otherwise.

I took the time to go up to Two Medicine and take in the early morning sights.





I ran up Rt 49 again which was still an excellent road. In addition to all the free-range cattle I ran into (figuratively!) a small herd of horses. Not sure if they were wild or also free-range.



I cut west to cross the border at Chief Mountain. Yet another easy crossing without issue.






Not sure exactly what this business was about. I simply avoided eye contact when stopping at these pullouts. I think it was bring-your-own-boy anyways.

 
#16 ·
I really struggled about going into Waterton. I was feeling like I needed to make time and didn’t have time. As it turned out, I wasted time waffling and then ended up going in. There was rain to the north, so I figured maybe it would clear if I gave it time?

It’s a strange deal. It’s a Canadian National Park, and there’s a big town in there. Rich swanky place really, people dressing-down expensively. You want to look casual, but certainly not poor! I’m not sure I fit in. I made it a pretty quick stop and just walked around the waterfront eating my sandwich.





Then I discovered Awesome Motorcycle Road #2: Red Rock Parkway in Waterton. I little string of a windy road with wonderful smooth pavement winding out to the Red Rock Canyon campground.

The road was fun, and there were bears galore. Had three sighting: a single guy, a mom with a cub and maybe last year’s cub? And a mom with two cubs.













This was kind of a big deal for me. I haven’t had a lot of great bear sightings in my life. I’ve gone out of my way in previous trips to get way up into the Chapleau Crown Game Preserve in northern Ontario to get some sighting, but struck out. Now, I’ve had some fine bear sightings.
 
#17 ·
I finally got back on the road heading north, and got into that rain. So I suited up and made miles. I had laid out plan to take a bunch of dirt roads up to Highwood Pass, but I didn't have time. And ... well, I was far from home and alone and a little humbled dumping my bike a couple days ago anyways.

I cut up Rt 22. It was a bit of a boring road after a bit. Kind of like taking Rt 2 across North Dakota. It's really beautiful land, but after a while you get the point and have seen enough. But it did give me a good feel for Alberta and how productive it is.

I was a bit tired. Not all the time, but every once and a while I would suddenly have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I was getting early starts, but staying up late too. Not the best combination. I would pull over and take a 5 minute nap every once-in-a-while, and was able to ride on refreshed. Mostly.

I will stop for any abandoned road I spy, that much goes unsaid. This one had lost an argument with a river.




I made it to Rt 40 for Highwood Pass. It's closed a good part of the year to protect Mountain Goat habitat and travel corridors. They are not shy animals, and I watch some like salt off a dirt side-road for quite a while.






The road was a great one. The scenery I mean. There were high mountains, many of them not in the clouds which was a nice change, but also a wide, green verdant valley.











 
#18 ·
I was surprised when I got to the pass. I had expected more of a climb. But it turns out this is a lower one, which didn't disappoint me. I as a tad rundown and getting chilly, rain was returning, and I was happy to see signs of progress.




I decided to take a dirt road I had seen on the maps planning that went along Spray Lakes Reservoir. I second-guessed myself the whole time. It was a pretty utilitarian road yet sloppy. I kept wonder if the views were better along the paved road 40 I had just left. Being tired will do that to you.









From there, the rains came on pretty good. And the sun set. I made the drop down into Canmore and ran into a couple stores for a bottle of booze and a grilled chicken wrap for dinner. I was wet and grimy and people looked at my funny in my dirty rain gear. It was another rich town, way too purposefully cozy, people way too purposefully causal yet trendy. Lots of boat shoes without socks. "I get it, you're all rich" I screamed at them, and left. Later I was told that not too many years ago Canmore was a nothing town where you could buy a rundown house for near nothing. But when the tar sands oil money hit Calgary, folks started coming to Canmore for vacation. With more cash than they really knew what to do with.

I drove right by the town of Banff, I have no idea what it was like. I got to my campsite after dark in a pouring rain. It is no fun setting up in the dark in a pouring rain. I was purposeful about maintaining my mood, and succeeded. Before long I was tucked in, listening to music from my phone, eating a chicken wrap and sipping from my bottle, listening to the rain on the tent. And a not half-bad sleep that night.
 
#20 ·
I drove right by the town of Banff, I have no idea what it was like.
You didn't miss anything BonnieBlack. Banff is full of tourists and traffic. Main street is like walking through a shopping mall with all the stores. I had last been in Banff in 1968 and I remembered it as being a neat little town. When I stayed there 2 years ago I commented to myself how much it had changed. You were undoubtedly much better of passing it up in my opinion.

Bob
 
#21 ·
Hey BonnieBlack... you have left us hanging somewhere around Banff at your campsite. As my youngest daughter likes to say to me... get crack-a-lackin and give us more details about your trip. :tapfoot

Bob
 
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#24 ·
Day 6

:D

I have a house load of guests right now, and an exchange student from Korea living with us and a daughter we're packing up to send off to college. A bit hectic. Oh, and most of my internet time right now is devoted to finding a small truck to buy. My son just got his driver's license, and while he doesn't get his own car, I get a well used small pickup to drive around if and when I let him use my car. :)

But, Day 6. Well it was a bit of a rocky spot to begin with.



http://edcallahan.com/TripReports/Maps/2016RockyMountains_Day6.html


I woke up to more rain. It's not that I'd had nonstop rain on the trip so far or anything, but it just seemed to be a constant presence. I was either getting rained on, about to get rained on, or drying out from being rained on. Repeat. And not nice warm summer showers, chilly stuff.

Bad weather is to be expected. And I had no right to complain. But I was disappointed that I hadn't had better conditions for mountain viewing.

So, a dark, wet and chilly morning isn't what I had been hoping for. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and such, and was a bit shocked by the bags under my eyes. I mean, they were huge sacks hanging down my face. I wondered if I would need plastic surgery to fix the damn things. But clearly I was wearing myself out.

Next to my campsite was a group shelter I hadn't noticed the night before. So I hauled all my stuff into there. I broke down the soaking tent. I took some time to organize, and jot some stuff in my journal. "I feel the possibility of panic and depression at the edges. Not forcing themselves into my head, but certainly would come in if invited. I don't love them lurking though. Lots of trip ahead and nothing is wrong that some warm sun wouldn't fix."

So onward and upward. I rode in the rain a bit, then it broke. And I saw a griz. How can you whine when you get to see a griz?








I got too close to that one. I was standing next to my bike trying to get the perfect shot, because there are no good grizzly shots available on the internet? :dunno But I was thinking I was too close. Then the guy took three steps in my direction and he was real close. It's not like he was going to bother me, but a deep and primitive part of my brain begged me to jump up on the bike fast and go. And I did.

Lake Louis ... what the heck. I swear to god that there is no line of people that is worth standing in for anything. And Lake Louis was a cluster fuque of people queuing up because everyone else was queuing up. Herd behavior. I finally got parked and realized it was just a lake next to an ice field with people paddling kayaks. I had wasted time. I took a single picture and scrammed. Found a cafe with a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich and a blueberry muffin. Next best thing in this world besides possibly warm sun.

 
#29 ·
I got too close to that one. I was standing next to my bike trying to get the perfect shot, because there are no good grizzly shots available on the internet?
I'm REAAAAAAAAAAALLY hoping that was shot on a 400mm lens or larger, but I'm guessing maybe a 50mm lens with no TC, and you really WERE too close :)

I'm so very much hoping I get to see bears, well the brown variety at least. Grizzlies from maybe a little further afield, but I'll take whatever I can get. Great shots though, for someone who hadn't seen much of Paddington before, you certainly made up for it on this trip!
 
#25 ·
Oh quit your bitchin BonnieBlack... You might as well get used to your children being a PITA. They are a life long commitment...Trust me I know. My oldest daughter who graduated from Syracuse decided she wanted to go to UCLA for her masters. So who does she turn to help her move to the Left Coast? Dad of course!!! Oh how I loved driving that truck with her crap in it to California in June. Oh, and my youngest daughter up at CU in Boulder is in between leases on her rental houses... she has a 2 week period of time being homeless. Yes, once again Dad to the rescue!!! My younger son who graduated a year ago has been travelling around New Zealand for 4 months. Now he is in Malaysia and heading for Phuket to chill out and relax because he is tired rom all his travels. Give me a freakin break!!! Thankfully my older son is building a start up Internet based company.....oh yes, did I say thankfully??? So I don't want to hear about your problems BonnieBlack... :finger

Now back to your Ride Report...Man!!! You must have worn a freakin bear magnet. I can't believe how many you encountered on your trip. I have seen a couple on my motorcycle travels but not at a close distance like you and certainly no grizzly bears... :BigEyes You certainly had your fill of rain on your trip it appears. Rain sucks period and I know making camp and breaking camp in the rain is a big time suck. Hell, even riding in the rain and getting to a motel is not fun. All you want to do is get in a hot shower and then into some nice warm clothes and hang out.

Now Lake Louise is a very pretty sight regardless of all the tourists. When I went there 3 years ago, and last in 1968, I was totally taken aback. That area had changed dramatically...the parking lots weren't there and you could actually drive up around behind the lake. I remember taking a picture of the lake from up high and the hotel was in the background of the picture. Like Banff, Lake Louise has changed a lot. The hotel has gone through numerous renovations from when I was there last. It didn't look anything like the old structure I saw in the late 60's. And there most definitely weren't all those freakin tourists that's for sure... :rofl

Thanks for continuing your Ride Report BonnieBlack...get your home life sorted out so you can continue and not leave us in suspense. I'm not getting any younger... :geezer

Bob
 
#26 ·
I feel like when you discover a new road, you kill it. You can ride it again, but you can never discover it again. So while there's joy in a new road, there is a bit of sadness as well. Well, I didn't kill the Icefields Parkway. I may have wounded it, but it is still there for me to discover. I had some views, but I think if I ever go back and there are some blue skies and visibility it will seem like a brand new experience.

But, it's not like I saw nothing. The colors of the waters up there is just stunning.










I wish I had a geologist travelling with me. You can just see the earth in motion, albeit very slow motion. But at the ice fields themselves, it's like you can see the glacier eating the mountain while you sit there. If you can distinguish the ice pack from the clouds.







I stop a lot. Sometimes just in the breakdown lane. I think one guy riding two-up on a v-strom checked on me like three times that day, just getting an OK signal from me that I wasn't having trouble.

There was a line of teenagers riding bicycles down the Parkway, and another mile down a kid alone working on her chain. So I turned around to see if I could help. She had a radio and a chase vehicle was coming, so no worries. So I said have a good day, she looks at my bike and says "You look bad ass on that thing" :) I rode with with a smile from that for a while. :)
 
#27 ·
The Icefields Parkway is a beautiful ride...it's unfortunate you had the low clouds hanging around BonnieBlack but even with the clouds it is a very impressive sight. The color of the water was amazing and the Rocky Mountains are so much more rugged looking than here in Colorado. I was very impressed with the Columbia Icefields and I spent a bit of time just sitting there trying to get my head wrapped around that unbelievable site.

I am really enjoying your pictures BonnieBlack as they refresh my memory of an awesome trip in Alberta and British Columbia 3 years ago. I think I need to get back up there again...maybe next year.

Bob
 
#28 ·
One cool stop that day was at the Mistaya River, where you can see how the river has slowly worked its way down through the rock. More cool geologist stuff. I should have taken my rain gear off before hiking down there, but it kept me warm and I was just tired of the on-again/off-again routine. Chatted with a retired Tennessee motorcycle cop who now runs a motorcycle training facility. Real laid back. Talked safety without it being preachy. We pretty much agreed on the best way to enjoy corners, it's not really about the speed but rather the lean, and control, and powering out.













Once I put on my heated vest I mocked myself for waiting so long. I was trying to save an extra layer for when I needed it. Next time I'll put it on when I want it, not when I need it.

I guess I didn't realize I'd be going into British Columbia when planning, that was kinda a fun surprise.




I got myself to Tete Jaune Cache to the West of the provincial park. There is a little "resort" there with a motel, RV Park and little cabins. The shower building was spotless, the cabin was spotless, the owners were wonderful. This place is Highly Recommended: http://www.tetejaunelodge.com/.





After a warm shower and putting on some warm clothes, I was a bit renewed. I wandered down to the cafe on the river.

This was a jewel. A highlight of the trip. It was a small restaurant right on the Fraser River, which was that deep blue or green/blue color.. You could sit out on the deck or inside. There was a bar. It was run by these two german guys. A taller guy ran the bar and the till, and this shorter jolly and round red-faced guy was the cook. They were like a old TV abbott-and-costello kinda pair. Really nice guys.

There was a buffet, and a couple things on the menu. I did the buffet and sat outside and drank red wine. I ate Swedish meatballs and some chicken curry and plenty of other stuff. When a cold front came through I moved inside and ate dessert and sipped coffee. I took a table alone, and just sat there absorbing the sounds of the tables around me. A little toasted from the wine I think I had a cheshire grin growing.

I was happy to just be sitting there. But eventually I gave up my table when a new group needed it, walked back up to my little cabin, and slept pretty well.

My wine glass is just out-of-frame ... :)

 
#30 ·
Close :) 150mm on a micro 4/3 camera, so the equivalent of 300mm. And I cropped it in a bit too. So, I couldn't smell his breath :)

And really, they were roadside bear sightings. Which I'll take. But that risk isn't to the humans. The risk is that the bears get too used to humans, and then are too comfortable getting close to humans. Then some poor ranger has to dispatch the critter.

Still, a bear sighting like that is still pretty cool for me.
 
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