Day 5 - Idaho and Montana and...Construction.

I returned to Whitman Mission first thing in the morning. I'd seen the grounds a bit the night before and enjoyed a stunning sunset and the moon and stars in the night sky, but this morning was clear and bright and I got to watch their short film. Very interesting, as usual.

Then I was off to Idaho! But, the construction theme continues. We sat long enough that the trucker got out to do some stuff to his truck.

I fell in with 2 bikers for about half an hour. Kinda nice to have company. Never been behind 2 male bikers who so diligently did the speed limit. :)

It was hot early.

Rt. 12 for hours and hours today. It even goes through some towns. The Lewis and Clark trail was lovely, though, so it was a good ride.

The terrain changes so often and so quickly, sometimes without apparent reason. It's been interesting to watch the transitions, sometimes gradual and sometimes incredibly abrupt.

Some of this has been hard on the bike, but Lewis and Clark did it in worse conditions than this, right? I'm awed by the number of bicyclists who are riding some of these same areas. I don't know how far they're going or what kind of support they might have, but my hat's off to 'em!

Stopped at Nez Perce visitor center and watched, again, an interesting film. I like when from park to park the information overlaps and connects. It makes a big picture rather than a bunch of isolated experiences. I spoke with Ranger Kevin for a while about bikes and Nez Perce. I also soaked my stuff before getting on the road. It's haaaaahht!

They had a nice display room with some amazing work.

I got back on the road after some more chatting with Ranger Kevin at the bike. Even though I'd just soaked down, it was unbelievably hot.

I watched the water on my right, which was just gorgeous, and started to think about pulling over, but only if I could get to the it. If I can't get to the water, then I might as well watch it from here and make time. Did I mention it was HOT?


SCORE! I got to have my banana and drink some water here. I soaked down again and tried to get dressed, without trapping any of the gazzillion bees that were around, under any of my layers. It was nice, but almost too hot to enjoy it. I wish I could have gotten in, but I had to get back on the road.

Spent a lot of time crossing a mountain. Again, construction stopped us at 5 or 6 different places which really dragged the time out. Hours and hours in the mountain, which, for a while, was a help with the heat, but then the sun started going down and I was freeeezing! I know, I'm just never happy. I finally had to stop to take the vest off and put my heavy jacket on. I'd meant to put my helmet cam on, too, but forgot.

So, riding through the woods and with the sun going down I moved animals up on the priority list to watch for, but I also needed to keep my speed up to get out of there before it got darker and colder. Neither of those things were going to be good for me. The speed limit was 55 -70 with twisties marked where some engineer decided it was needed. It was pushing my limits.


In the picture below you can see the line of cars waiting at another stop.


And, after the slinky game of construction where all of 7 cars, bikes and trucks/vans would meet and wait and then run off to meet up at the next stop sign, after the last one, I'd never seen cars move so fast! There were no slackers in the group and we'd all had it with the stop and go, I guess. It wasn't 3 minutes before I couldn't see a sign of anyone again. It was all me, all alone, all the time, again.



So, here's the moose that I saw. Happily, he was far enough in front of me when I saw him that it wasn't a danger issue, but he trotted off into the woods quickly. Don't be fooled by his size compared to the trees. The trees are enormous. He easily took up half the road. He appeared young, but was big and lanky. :) The land became Montana not too long after this, so said a sign while I was coming down the mountain.

Then, suddenly, the road flattens out for a mile or 5, and then you're out of the mountain. It was rather abrupt! On my way out on this flat road I felt a now familiar *chug*. Oh, yes, again. For the first time in hours I looked at my odo: 199. 199! I hadn't gotten more than 165 for the last week. Does that mean I already used the spare gas? Find place on shoulder to pull over. Am I out of gas or is the can still full? Grab clutch, hit break. No, I filled it and haven't pulled over yet, I still have gas. Put kickstand down, get off bike. How long have I been stuck in there? Grab can off bike, notice weight of can, smile. Daggone, that was a long ride with no warning. Empty can into tank, repack, jump on and go. 3 miles later pull into gas station. Refill everything.

Another 2 or so would get me to Deer Lodge Montana near the next Park. Idaho was beautiful! I'd never been before, but would go back. Montana is stunning as well. I rode the last leg with the sun setting in my mirrors and the moon over my right shoulder. There were some wild temperature swings for that last 100 miles!

Grant-Kohrs Ranch National Historic Site and Yellowstone tomorrow. My stamp book is filling out! I lost an hour today crossing another time zone line. Things are getting tighter and there's rain again in the forecast. I have yet to find a rain suit, though I did stop at 2 stores today while I was passing thru a town. I still have my less-than-satisfactory jacket and pants, but would really like to be drier than that when the rain starts again. At least the forecast for tomorrow only has 'green' rain in the area. I'd like to avoid the yellows, reds and purples, as I've seen quite enough of them this trip, thank you very much. :)

Day 4 -What an Incredible Day!

Ok, so it didn't start that way. I left the hotel and stopped to fill up and decided that I'd look up the next gas stations on my route before starting off. There was only 1 listed on the gps at 114 miles and the rest were quite a way past that. A quick phone call to check that it even still existed...and, no, that phone numer has been disconnected. Hmmm, back into the store to buy a gas can. Fill with gas. Pack on bike. Crap, forgot water. Back into store to buy water. Pack on bike. Leave, finally happy to get on the road after so many delays.

But it was not to be.

Two minutes from the gas station with newly filled gas can, I see a sign that says 'construction - 30 minute delay possible'. It didn't take quite that long, but in my snow suit head to toe it was really hot just sitting there for the 15 minutes it did take.



20 miles from the morning's gas stop...was a gas station. Oh, man! Mad! I was mad! I'd just paid 10 bucks for a gas can and had prechecked the gps for gas stops and even called! All for naught! And now I'm stuck dragging this extra can around! Grrr. Looking at the map it seem like it was going to be more populated than the last two days, but still! I passed the gas station wondering when I needed to vent the stupid gas can and hoping it didn't turn into a turbo charger, a la Batman, in the 100 plus heat in the afternoon. Oh, so annoyed!


Lovely Nevada. I know there's stuff there that I didn't get to see. Even what I drove through was beautiful, for about an hour...but, after so much Nevada I'd really had enough. It's dry and depressing and hot. I'm fairly certain I passed through the fifth level of Hell somewhere on 395.


I saw a skink-sized lizard cross the road when I went through the first time. I had looked for whatever lives there, but gave up looking for 'eye shine' days ago. The only thing that glimmers in Nevada outside a casino are shards of glass and bits of discarded wrappers.


Not even bleached bones on the side of the road. No birds. No roadkill. Only the occasional smell of rotting flesh gave any indication at 75 mph that there was, at least at one time, life in the desert.


Eventually the odometer started to get my attention. If I can only drive 163 miles on a tank, evidenced by the first time I ran out of gas, and I'm at 150 or so and I don't see a gas station in front of me right now and the last sign for a town, with no promise of services, is more than 10 miles away...

I developed a new appreciation for my gas can and pulled over by some cows for company to empty the can into the tank *before* the bike started lurching. A man in a small blue car pulled over up ahead to check on me. I didn't think to ask him how far to the next gas until after I waved him off with a thumbs up. I followed him for many miles after catching up to him a couple minutes later. It seemed rude to pass him, though several others did. It seemed I had a friend and, who knew how I was going to flag him down from behind, but it seemed right to stay with him. Soon enough, he made a left to what I assume was home and I was off on my own again.

The road went on and on and on. Yesterday I wore my cold weather gear most of the day. It didn't get really hot until after 2pm. Yesterday and today I put on my cooling vest and can't say enough about how much it helps. I find it amusing to see 'snow zone' signs when I'm staving off heat exhaustion, but wouldn't want to get stuck here in the winter!






At my next gas stop, I put the gas can gas in the tank, filled up and refilled the container, just in case. I had a craving for a Peppermint Patty, but was compelled to get an Idaho Spud, as well. It mysteriously said absolutely nothing about what was in it - and I was intrigued. I didn't try it until I stopped for the 'Welcome to Oregon' sign miles later.

And spit it out somewhere very near that shrub. Blech, coconut.

The elevations I ride through vary every day. In the last 4 days I can remember signs for 4600 ft to almost 10,000 ft. A rollercoaster path through some amazing mountains and valleys.



I was on this road for a long time and played the 'what if' game through a good bit of it. I've done a lot of miles for my short motorcycle life, but most have been highway miles. The twisty roads of the mountain forests are fun, but bring up a different set of concerns than the desert straightaways.



What if something happens? Ride the bike, ride the bike, ride the bike.
What if a deer runs out in the road? Roll of the throttle, ride the bike, ride the bike.
What if a chipmonk/squirrel runs out in front of me? Swerve, ride the bike, ride the bike.
What if there's washout in the middle of this turn? Straighten up, slow down, ride the bike, ride the bike.
What if there are rocks, per the many warning signs, on the road? Avoid the rock, ride the bike, ride the bike.
What if a bear knocks me off the bike and attacks me? Be aggressive, B-E aggressive, hey!


I had no idea how long the road was or where I was going. I was just following the gps' directions and knew approximately what time I was supposed to get to my destination. It turned out I was in the forest for a very long time and enjoyed it immensely.


I felt a tremendous relief to be in the forest and out of the desert. If something happened to me I could survive here. Things are living here, this is familiar to me, and it felt good.


I could catch and kill and eat something with my bare hands, build shelter from limbs and branches! Yes, *this* was the place to be stranded.


I was, however, thankful that my gas can was full and emptying it into the tank staved off the stress that comes with a blinking gas light. I used a self-designated rest stop while listening intently for bear and then was off again.


Once I got to John Day proper, I checked for directions to the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument in John Day and was told it was another 40 miles out of town. Hmmm. Some lovely twisty lowland farms, animals and water. A very nice, if hurried, ride.


Stunning, beautiful water!



I wasn't at John Day long, but used it to soak a desperately needed cooling vest and soak down before leaving. The heat had set in after the Canyon City gas stop and I was hurtin'. And, oh, yes, I did refill that gas can.


More construction trying to get out of John Day and on to Walla Walla, Washington. It was hot. HOT!


After a very long and twisted road to who-knew-where, I followed the road and the signs to each 'town' wondering which one would be big enough to have gas. I passed several that were probably just named to make life easier to deliver mail, before following signs into Heppner.


Heppner sprung up suddenly after a turn in the road - a full fledged big little town. I stopped for gas, and, yes, refilled the gas can.


While I was checking the bike, another woman on a bike pulled in. I hesitated, but went to say 'hi' and met Connie, who was the highlight of my day. We had a lovely chat and she, on her 2 month old license, has racked up a couple thousand miles already and is on a Boulevard S40. I enjoyed our talk immensely, we exchanged information and I left giddy and renewed.


I loved the transition that happened in Oregon after that. The desert finally changed to rolling hills covered in low fields. A dramatic contrast to the dry, flat but studded with mountains, shrubby desert, the hills undulated like the earth was breathing, and it was stunning. The pictures just do not convey how amazingly beautiful it was. Even as vast as the land went on, it didn't feel as desolate as the expanses of desert.


Then, as abruptly as so many of the changes have happened this trip, as I entered Washington walls of rock rose up on my right side. On the left, a guardrail and a railroad track and beyond that was an enormous body of water. On the far side was the same: an enormous wall of rock, solid and straight up. Both sides went on for miles. I'd never seen anything like it.


I got to Walla Walla at dusk. I went to the Whitman Mission to know where I would be returning in the morning.

Turns out that it was the first day of college and it was tight getting a place to stay with all the students' families in town to deliver their young'uns. It all worked out in the end, of course, and after revisiting the Mission site the next morning, my trek turned East to start on my way home.