An afternoon at the Sherwood Park Fish and Game Rifle Range

Sighted in my rifle today for the upcoming hunting season, shooting at the 200 meter (656') target.  It was a nice way to spend a beautiful fall afternoon.

The centerfire rifle range has targets at 100 m, 200 m, 300 m (l.-r.), and 25 m (not seen).

I caught this little garter snake hanging out near the 200 meter target.

This 5-shot group is right at 1 minute-of-angle.  Each square is 2" on a side. 

Post-trip Day One

It was great to sleep in my own bed again, and after a lazy morning I took to my traditional Canadian Thanksgiving weekend task of trimming the front hedge and raking the yard (the latter, of course, happens many times each Fall).  This is my favorite season in Alberta, so it's good to be home. 

Tomorrow I might head to the rifle range to get some practice in before the hunting season opens in a couple of weeks.  Unpacking and laundry still await...

Fall in Edmonton.

Day Twenty-Five: Golden, B.C. to Edmonton, Alberta (or, "Home Sweet Home!")

I woke up a bit tired today at 8 am, showered, and headed over to the Big Bend Cafe for breakfast and coffee.  After packing up the temperature was still hovering around freezing, so I bundled up well and set off.  My GoreTex-over-leathers setup worked well in general, but my toes and left pinky finger seemed to get the worst of it.  Their constant complaint was comforting, though; at least they weren't numb.  Heading east on Highway 1 brought me up and over the continental divide once again at Kicking Horse Pass (elevation: 1,627 m/5,339') and, a bit later, past Field, B.C.  At the junction with Highway 93 (the Icefields Parkway) I headed north, paid the entry fee, and rode up one of the most spectacular highways on Earth.  Although still below freezing, the clouds and light conspired to give me a perfect day to end my trip.  The iPhone did a pretty good job of capturing the views (especially after applying touch of Photoshop to tweak the levels).

Bow Lake, Icefields Parkway.  This lake was one of Donjek's favorite stops.

I made a quick stop at Num-Ti-Jah Lodge on Bow Lake; this let me thaw out my fingers a bit, and to notice that the puddles in the parking lot were all frozen solid.  I used to stop here with Donjek whenever we passed through so that he could swim.  Once he staged a sit-in-protest -- literally -- when he saw that I was leading him back to the truck; another time he swam long enough in the cold waters that he had "dead tail" the following day.  Boy, did that depress him!

The White Pyramid (3,275 m/10,745').

The entire parkway is stunning; these are just a few of the scenes deemed too-good-to-pass-up.  (I did pass up others, though.)

Looking back after the ascent up Big Hill.

After rounding Big Bend (just out of view to the right in the above image), the road goes up Big Hill, where I stopped at an overview.  Years ago, during my graduate school days at UBC, my friends and I participated in the Jasper-to-Banff Relay Race.  My ~15 km (~9 mile) leg started at the Athabasca Glacier, climbed gently for the first third, leveled off for the second third, and descended Big Hill before rounding Big Bend for the final third.  I stopped at the lodge at Athabasca Glacier for a much-needed hot cup of coffee.  The scenery didn't let up.

One of Donjek's other favorite stops.

I largely missed the fall colors, though I noticed this scene in my rear-view mirror.

In Jasper the Icefields Parkway meets the Yellowhead Highway (Hwy 16).  After gassing up in town I headed east for the last leg of the journey.  The first hour or so was spectacular, but soon the topography leveled out and I was on the Alberta plain.  Beautiful in its own way, but the remaining couple of hours were pretty butt-numbing.

Heading east from Jasper.  Not a bad way to end the journey.

I pulled into my garage at 6:30 pm -- again just before sunset.  It was a pretty amazing trip, covering just shy of 9,000 km.  The bike was perfect, and the weather cooperated more than I could have expected it to this time of year.  I'm tired now -- and look forward to sleeping in my own bed!

Total distance: 8,974.8 km (5,576.7 miles).

Day Two-Four: Winthrop, Washington to Golden, B.C. (or, "Closing the Loop")

I started the day by backtracking along Highway 20 from Winthrop to its junction with 153.  Here I took a left and followed a new section of 20 to the town of Okanogan.  The road was fantastic, an endless series of sweeping curves with essentially no traffic.  At Okanogan I rejoined Highway 97 and headed north towards Canada's Okanagan.  (Yes, the "o" turns to an "a" at the border.)  After a quick and painless border crossing I was back in Canada, re-learning to read my speedometer's natural units -- no more mental conversions to miles!  I soon passed through Oliver, which presents about as pretty a landscape as any populated region anywhere. Here I have to apologize, as I only pulled out the camera once today (and it wasn't in the Okanagan).  With the goal of Golden, B.C., I knew I'd be pushing the boundaries of daylight; as a result, I reverted to my old habit of covering miles.

Highway 97 leads to Okanagan Lake and the shoreline towns of Penticton, Summerland, Kelowna, and Vernon.  No sightings of Ogopogo, unfortunately, the lake's very own Loch Ness monster.  North of Vernon Highway 97A splits off of 97 and heads through Enderby and Sicamous.  Here 97A meets with the Trans-Canada Highway (No. 1).  A bit less than an hour later I gassed up in Revelstoke -- where I checked the distance to Golden, the time of the sunset there, and the current time.  I really didn't want to ride after sunset given the increased movement of ungulates, but it appeared that I'd arrive within a few minutes of 7:01 pm.  Off I went.

The ride took me up and over Rogers Pass (1,330 m/4,362').  The crossing was quick and easy (and fast-paced -- traffic really cooks through here), despite the repeated signage stating "Use Winter Tires or Carry Chains Past This Point, Oct. 1 - April 30".  Although the mountains above were snowy, the road was clear and dry.

At Rogers Pass, the last major orographic obstacle of the trip.

I reached Golden at about 7:05 and checked into Mary's Motel, where I also stayed at the end of Day One of my trip.  I've thus closed the loop.  Tomorrow I'll head up the Icefields Parkway to Jasper, turn right at the Yellowhead Highway -- and head home.

Day Twenty-Two: Morton, Washington to Winthrop, Washington

After my morning check of the engine oil level and tire pressure -- along, now with a tire wear check -- I continued east on Highway 12.  This brought me over White Pass (elevation: 4,500') and towards the city of Yakima.  After crossing the pass, the character of the Cascades changes markedly, from forested-plus-alpine to desert-like-plus-more-blatantly-igneous.

Highway 12 eastbound near White Pass.  If you look closely, you can see Mt. Rainier's upper flanks peeking through the clouds.

A bit further east, where the highway follows along the Naches River.

After Naches the road widens a bit, then upon reaching Yakima I turned north to follow the 'superslab' of Highway 82.  This brought me to Highway 97, which is nicely curvy and gives one perfectly-paved lane of traffic in each direction.  Strangely, there was an absolutely massive show of police force heading southbound: local police, state troopers, and sheriff's cars and SUVs. Not sure what that was about, but I saw probably 100-150 law enforcement vehicles today.  No tickets, though.

At Chelan Falls (where Donjek and I used to occasionally stay, as there's a motel right on the lake where he loved to swim) I stopped to see whether there are any KOA campgrounds in the area.  There's one, a bit west on Highway 20.  After reserving a cabin, I headed another 12 or so miles north on 97, then turned west on 153, thus abandoning the Columbia River and valley (which it had been following) for the Methow.  The valley is beautiful, and is currently showing some bright fall colors.  After about 40 minutes the road leads to the town of Winthrop.  Just outside lies the KOA; here I checked into my cabin, parked the Triumph, and walked the mile or so into town.  I'd brought my cellphone, so here are a few pictures of town and the local environs:

Just outside of Winthrop, Washington.  Nice field; needs horses, though.

Crossing the Methow River on Highway 20 near Winthrop. Washington.

Winthrop, Washington is well known for its "American Old West" design.

The cars pretty  much ruin the vibe.  Except the Ferrari (not pictured).

A schoolhouse-turned-brewery.  Good call.

Tomorrow I'll make my way back east along Highway 20 to regain Highway 97, which will take me north -- and back into Canada.

Day Twenty-One: Yachats, Oregon to Morton, Washington

Today I completed my run up the Oregon coast.  The road is beautiful, winding gently along the water's edge and, occasionally, running a bit inland.  Oregon is pretty much a nanny state, though, so the maximum speed seen anywhere along the road is 55 mph -- and many, many sections have much lower limits.  So it takes forever to get anywhere -- especially since traffic generally runs ~5 mph below the posted limit.   (Contrast this with Nevada, where one stretch of road had four signs posted in very close succession: "Twisty Roads Next 19 Miles"; "Open Cattle Range Next 17 Miles"; "Falling Rocks Next 3 Miles"; and "Speed Limit: 70 mph".)

At the northern end of Oregon's stretch of Highway 101 is the Astoria-Melger bridge, which spans the 4.1 miles across the mouth of the Columbia River.  Crossing it I thought back to Day Two of my trip and riding past Columbia Lake, the mighty river's headwaters.  At the northern end of the bridge I turned right and headed east through the beautiful lower Columbia River valley on Highway 4.  An hour-and-a-bit later, I reached Interstate 5.  Although I was hoping to avoid this road altogether (having traveled it many, many times over the years), I did travel 28 miles of its length today, heading north to Washington State Highway 12.  (I guess I've already ridden I-5, for about a mile, on Day Fifteen of the trip.)  This road will take me over White Pass (elevation: 4,500') to Yakima, Washington tomorrow.  At that point I'll turn north again and head towards the Okanagan.

One recurring issue on this trip is that my camera batteries keep failing -- first in my brand-new Nikon Coolpix P330; then the spare battery I bought in Petaluma; now in my Ma's Nikon Coolpix S630, which I borrowed to replace my apparently-dead P330.  I hope the issue lies with the fact that I brought only my Apple iPhone's USB wall cube, rather than the Nikon power supply.  Time will tell; in the meantime, it looks like the remaining pictures will be taken by my cellphones' cameras.  One last Nikon pic:

Parked for the night at the Morton, Washington Seasons Motel.

Day Twenty: Crescent City, California to Yachats, Oregon

I woke up to a beautiful morning, and set out up the coast highway before 9 am -- only to be pulled over 15 minutes later and issued a speeding ticket.  The officer claimed he clocked me going 70 in a 55 (reduced to 60, or 5 over, in the citation), but I'm pretty sure I was at or below 100 km/h (62 mph) -- and I don't see how he could've possibly gotten a good radar fix given that I was immediately behind both an RV and a car, on an arrow-straight road, and while he was driving.  Given that I don't live in Del Norte County, California, though, I guess I'll be paying for the ticket.  My first in over 10 years.

Port Orford, Oregon.

As the morning progressed the skies closed, and soon a rain shower had me pulled over (hah -- the second time today!) and putting on my GoreTex jacket and pants.  For the next several hours I rode wet roads through intermittent showers.  Not not my favorite conditions, but certainly appropriate for the central Oregon coast and a guilty pleasure to boot.  (Plus, any regret I might've had about paying for the early front tire replacement disappeared today, as the tires are absolutely fantastic on wet roads.)

Reaching Yachats at about 2:30, I decided to call it a day.  After checking into the Yachats Inn (and requesting a room with a view of the ocean), I walked over to Luna Sea for halibut and chips and a Rouge "Dead Guy" ale -- so yes, I'm definitely done for the day.  I then checked out the blowhole in the above video -- about a 30 second walk from my room's back door.  It was raining five minutes ago, but now the sun is shining through the clouds; tomorrow's forecast is clear skies.  My (changeable!) plan is to head up the coast into Washington before heading east to the central valleys.

Good tidings for better weather tomorrow?

Day Nineteen: Petaluma, California to Crescent City, California

About to start the northward leg of the journey.  Photo by Ma.

This morning I packed up my gear and headed out Bodega Avenue for Highway 1.  It's a route I've taken many times by bicycle and car, though not (as far as I can recall) by motorcycle.  It's a fantastic road, twisting, rising, and falling as it negotiates the Pacific shoreline.  At Bodega Bay I gassed up and had brunch at The Tides restaurant, then continued north, passing through Sea Ranch and Gualala, Elk, Albion, Mendocino, Caspar, Fort Bragg, and a few other tiny communities.  After Westport the road heads inland to meet up with Highway 101 at Leggett.  This stretch is pure motorcycling heaven -- incredibly twisty with near-perfect pavement and very little traffic.  I remember being overjoyed with this road in my Honda Fit; on ths Triumph it's much better still.  The tires are now fully scrubbed!

One striking thing about Humboldt County is the huge number of apparent vagrants, especially in Eureka and Garberville.  I imagine I would have seen many more had I traveled up Highway 101 rather than the Shoreline Highway.  I feel extremely fortunate in comparison.

False Klamath Cove, Highway 101, south of Crescent City.

After joining 101 there are pretty long sections of two-lane (in each direction) freeway with posted limits of 65 mph, interspersed with narrower, one-lane-per-direction sections with lower limits.  The latter are far more fun.  Traffic has generally been light, and cars seem amazingly eager to pull over for motorcycles -- a very different experience!  The approach to Crescent City is also a familiar one, as our family has camped in the area for many years at both Mill Creek and Jedediah Smith campgrounds.  Mill Creek was closed (and I didn't head up Highway 199 to see the status of Jed Smith), so I'm camped for the night in another KOA cabin, this one in a redwood grove ~5 miles north of town.  Tomorrow I'll continue up the coast, while watching the skies -- the forecast is calling for afternoon showers.

Days Seventeen and Eighteen: Visiting Family

I spent Saturday and Sunday visiting my siblings and their families in Vallejo and San Francisco, respectively; I also was able to enjoy Marin County's spectacular backcountry roads while scrubbing in the new tires and see Sunday's Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival lineup in Golden Gate Park.  Two great days -- sorry, no pics!

This post was written on Day Nineteen of the trip.

Day Sixteen: Petaluma, California (or, "Baby Gets a New Pair of Shoes")

After the scare of discovering how close to failure my rear tire was, today I carefully and slowly rode over to P & M Motorcycles for the 8:30 am opening bell.  I asked whether they could fit me in to replace the rear (and possibly front) tire and to give the Triumph an oil change.  Paul was very accommodating, and assured me that he'd have her done by the end of the day -- only to call me at 12:30 to say it was complete.  Excellent -- many thanks, Paul!  I look forward to seeing how the Michelin Pilot Powers perform.  Rest assured I'll be monitoring wear more closely.

Meaty!

Today I spent visiting family, running errands, and giving the Triumph a bath -- it was a great day!

Day Fifteen: Tonopah, Nevada to Petaluma, California

I got an early start from Tonopah, heading west on Highway 6/95 across the desert floor towards California.  It was a cold and windy morning.  The wind really showed its strength after Coledale, blowing snakes of sand across the road at an amazing pace and forcing the bike to lean 10-15 degrees to starboard to maintain a straight line.  After an hour of the cold creeping through the leathers, I crossed into California, at which point I stopped to put on long johns and my wool shirt.  I soon reached Benton, where while gassing up another rider walked out of the attached cafe and greeted me.  I recognized his accent as Quebecois, and the big BMW R1200GS motorcycle there bore a Quebec license plate.  After a conversation over a much-needed breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns and coffee, Fred and I set up Highway 120 towards Highway 395.  This section of road as an absolute joy to ride -- winding, rising, and falling with the landscape, then taking a map-straight line but with rolls the height of a tall house.  Cresting each roll put our stomachs in our mouths; the g-forces of bottoming out then pushed us down into our seats.

Highway 120 rises, winding, out of the Nevada desert into the western margin of the Sierras.

We quickly reached Highway 395 in a fog at Mono Lake, and we headed north for Highway 108 and Sonora Pass.  (We decided to skip Highway 120, which leads through Yosemite, given the greater number of RVs and lesser number of curves that we wound encounter.)  We reached Highway 108 and headed up the tight curves, quickly passing two trucks pulling fifth-wheel campers (which had no business on this route, frankly).  After the pass (elevation: 9,624') we descended the steep and technical road.  Fred was quicker than me through the twisties, and kindly waited at regular intervals for me to catch up.

The spectacular descent from Sonora Pass.

We had lunch in Strawberry, after which the curves loosened up and traffic increased.  We followed 108 through the open grass and live oaks to its junction (via Hwy 49) with Highway 120, then through the almond groves and into the central valley.  At Manteca we joined Interstate 5 for about a mile, then turned west again on 205.  This portion of the trek, and on through 580 up the Altimont Pass, felt like combat, with traffic moving at a minimum of 80 mph and spaced less than a car's length apart.  The wind was gusting from the north, and the pavement terrible.  Not my favorite stretch of road.  After a quick stop in Oakland to allow Fred to tend a bloody nose we headed across the San Rafael-Richmond bridge.  San Rafael was Fred's destination; here I had a cup of tea with him and his girlfriend Magali (a music teacher who also rides) and then turned north on Highway 101 for Petaluma.  Just as I arrived at my folks' place I saw my brother-in-law's Geico car leaving their driveway, so I performed a quick u-turn and followed.  I caught up to them at a light, and flagged them down.  We stopped, and I said hello to my brother-in-law, niece and nephew.  Showing them my bike, I noticed a flash of metal running down the center of the rear tire, illuminated by oncoming cars' headlights: the tire's steel belt, exposed bare.  I said goodbye and gingerly rode home -- time for a new set of shoes! (If you look at the picture above, you can see that the steel belt was already exposed coming down from Sonora pass, and thus for some time.  I count myself lucky that the tire held long enough for me to notice!)

After a bit over two weeks on the road, it was good to reach the home where I grew up.  Dad's away on a collecting trip, but hi Ma!   

This post was written on Day Sixteen of the trip.

Day Fourteen: Bryce, Utah to Tonopah, Nevada

Today I headed south on 89 and then west on 9 to pass through what must be one of the absolute wonders of the natural world, Zion National Park.  With the government impasse the park was officially closed, which meant that (a) I didn't need to pay the usual $25 entry fee and (b) they had roped off a lot of the roadside pullout zones.  Although the former point was appreciated (even if I would've happily paid the fee to support the park), the latter meant that the multitude of tourists had nowhere to go to safely stop and take pictures -- which meant that the park was an absolute circus, with people stopping mid-road, pulling into traffic without looking, and u-turning without warning.

As I entered the park on the red-paved roads, I pulled over to take a picture -- only to find that my camera battery was dead (even though it showed a decent level of charge last night).  As were my two cellphones.  So, no I have no pictures of what was surely the scenic highlight of the trip.  So, I'll have to go back -- anyone care to come along?  The scenery is beyond all expectations here, as grand in scale as Yosemite but with much more color, detail, and texture.  Each turn of the (very) windy road reveals a new landscape more breathtaking than the last.

After Zion it's difficult to be impressed, but the rest of the day was also beautiful -- south on Interstate 15 to join Route 18 northbound, then west on Utah 56 to Nevada 319.  Turning south and west on Nevada 93 brought me to Nevada 375, known as "The Extraterrestrial Highway", so named because it is near the famed "Area 51".  Now known (and only recently acknowledged by the US Government) as Groom Lake, this USAF base is believed to have been home to the U2, SR-71/A-12, and F-117 stealth fighter programs; today, the unmanned drones used in combat operations are apparently piloted from there.  Sadly, I made no aircraft sightings, despite numerous "Low-Flying Aircraft" signs.

Although I often give Nevada little credit, the route really was beautiful: high desert scrub, with eroded sandstone mountains and the occasional Joshua Tree forest.  The Extraterrestrial Highway joined with Highway 6, which brought me to Tonopah.  I've stopped here for the night -- a bit shy of my goal (California!), but I didn't relish driving for another hour or two into the sun as the deer started their evening movement.  Only the very long stretches of construction (and associated loose gravel - rather nerve-wracking on a motorcycle), the free-ranging cattle, the blustery crosswinds, and the afternoon sun beating directly into my eyes detracted from the drive through Nevada.  (Hmm.  That's a pretty long list, but the ride was very good.)

My camera and cellphone batteries are on charge, and so I should have pictures to share again tomorrow.  Now to decide which route to take west through the Sierras...

Day Thirteen: Moab, Utah to Bryce, Utah

Another incredibly beautiful day!  I set off this morning heading north on Highway 191, and almost immediately the governmental shutdown made itself known: Arches National Park (which I'd planned on visiting) was barricaded at the entrance.  So, I continued north to the Interstate 70 junction, then headed west for about half an hour before turning southwest on Highway 24.

Open desert and mesas along Utah Highway 24.

This lead through some spectacular desert and mesa scenery.  After brunch in Hanksville, I continued on this route through Capitol Reef National Park.  (Although the services are all closed in this park, the road through it remained open.)

One of the many ridiculous views in Capitol Reef National Park.

Soon after Capitol Reef I turned south on Route 12, which took me up over an unnamed pass (at 9,200').  The entire route was a riot of fall colors, though only a couple of safe places to stop presented themselves.  Here they are:

Spectacular fall colors lined the roads over the unnamed pass on Route 12.

The road over the pass was also spectacular.

A while after the descent, the road wound its way through the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, which began with the road traveling along the knife-edge of a mesa; the road dropped off precipitously on either side.  The road soon descended to the bottom of a narrow gorge (visible behind me in the photo below) and continued on towards Bryce Canyon.

At the rim of Grand Staircase-Escalante Nat'l Monument.

Bryce Canyon National Park was another victim of the governmental shutdown, so I'm camping just outside the park boundary in Bryce.  After renting a teepee(!), I took the motorcycle down a private gravel road to the canyon rim.  (A nice view, but not post-worthy.)  I then repeated the trip on foot -- my first run in weeks.  It wasn't a fast run, but it felt better than I had feared it would after sitting on the bike for so many days straight.  I'll likely pay for it tomorrow.

Camping for the night in a teepee.  Because why the hell not.

Every single mile of today's roads was spectacular, and tomorrow the scenery will continue as I pass through Zion National Park and into Nevada.

Day Twelve: Durango, Colorado to Moab, Utah

What an incredible and beautiful day!  The ride from Durango to Ouray along Highway 550 is the one road that everyone said I simply had to take.  (Well, everyone save one woman at dinner last night, who had ridden it on the back of her husband's motorcycle, crying and praying the whole way, and with her eyes closed.)  Let me apologize now for not having any pictures that do the scenery or route the slightest bit of justice; I wanted to ride, not stop.  So I only stopped once:

My one stop, on the descent after Red Mountain Pass (11,018').

Of course, by stopping a whole slew of cars I'd painstakingly (and legally) passed got ahead of me again.  Oh well.  The decent into Ouray really is epic.  Everyone should drive this road.  On a motorcycle, and with your eyes open.

Stopped, for no particular reason, in Ouray

 A few miles north of Ouray, Highway 155 reaches Ridgway, where I turned west onto Highway 62.  Although the road rises and turns much more gradually than on 155, the scenery is huge and spectacular.  I mean, take a look at this:

Exhibit A: Scenery west of Ridgway on Highway 62.

And this:

Exhibit B: Scenery west of Ridgway on Highway 62, just before Dallas Divide.

 Following Highway 62, routes 145, 141, and 90 took me west into Utah.  It's amazing how quickly the scenery morphed from the "Colorado Rocky Mountain" type (above) to the "American Southwest" type (below).  My day's ride ended up in Moab, and therefore firmly in the latter type of landscape.  Incredible!

Highway 90, just east of the Colorado-Utah border.

To get the above photo, I had to double back.  It's a Colorado Adopt-A-Highway sign dedicated, presumably, to the hero of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged.  I'm not certain that Galt would've supported the Adopt-A-Highway program -- it seems so, er, altruistic.

Tonight I'm camped in another small cabin, in a campground in Moab.  One of my never-to-be-broken rules of motorcycling is that I will not have the slightest bit of alcohol until the bike is parked for the evening -- and so until tonight I've not had a beer with dinner on this trip.  Conveniently, the campground I'm in tonight is right across the street from the Moab Brewery...

Day Eleven: Carbondale, Colorado to Durango, Colorado

The night was clear and displayed a bright Milky Way, and so I wasn't surprised to find a thick layer of frost on the triumph when I started loading her up.  The frost also gave me permission to lull a bit: given that I would be crossing Independence Pass (elevation: 12,095'), I wanted to give any water runnels and seeps time to thaw.

One frosty gas tank.

I eventually headed out Highway 82 to Aspen (past a highway sign that warned of icy conditions on the pass), where I stopped for an incredible breakfast of huevos rancheros.  While eating, the couple sitting next to me told me that a 9,500 s.f. penthouse apartment was for sale in town -- for a cool $21 million.  (They weren't in the market any more than I am.)  During breakfast the heat of the sun baked me out of my GoreTex layer.  Heading southeast with an endless string of traffic, we set route for the pass. The road narrows in places to a lane's width, and winds and climbs relentlessly.  A fantastic road.  On the bike all speed limits seem stupidly low, which is rather confidence-inspiring.  I'm by no means a road racer -- but several other riders on the road fit that bill, pushing HARD down the pass.  (The packs including a couple of Ducatis, which sounded incredible.  Dang.)  My much-slower cohort eventually reached the pass, and I stopped for the obligatory photos.  Here's two, only one of which shows the bike.

Me, in full regalia, at the pass.

Yet another photograph of the Triumph, this one at 12, 095'.

After the fun descent, Highway 82 joined with 24 and then 285 southbound.  The next few hours were far less exciting, battling a fierce cross-wind along long, straight, level stretches (though with mountains in the distance to both west and east).  A short jog west on 112 brought me to Highway 160 at Del Norte.  Here the scenery again came alive.  The ride west to Durango was incredible, winding through the San Juan Mountains and up over Wolf Creek Pass (where the bike again had me thinking "why the hell is the speed limit so low?").

Looking back up towards Highway 160's Wolf Creek Pass after the descent.

Too bad the sun was right in my eyes the last hour or so of the ride; otherwise it was perfect.  I checked into yet another KOA cabin, then headed into town for a dinner that was far more upscale than I had intended.  No complaints!

This post was written on Day Twelve of the trip.

Day Ten: Montpelier, Idaho to Carbondale, Colorado

At last, a fine day -- and I covered some ground to take advantage of it! Sadly, the place I'm staying tonight has no cellular coverage and poor WiFi. So I'm typing on my cellphone, and dinner has just arrived (flautas!). I'll sign off for now and update later.

Updated 9/30/2013 (that is, Day Twelve of the trip) -- Sorry Ma!  I'll try to keep up-to-date!

As has become habit, I left the KOA at Montpelier and traveled a bit down the road (east and south down Highway 30 in SW Wyoming) before grabbing brunch.  I stopped in Cokeville at a local joint called Blondie's Diner.  A couple saw my leathers and asked where I was headed; at the end of our conversation I had a route planned -- which I've followed from that morning at the diner to here in Moab. The route followed a series of minor roads to south and east: first Highway 30 to Diamondville, WY, then south on 189 and 412 to where it crosses Interstate 80, then further southeast on Highway 414/43/44/191.  This brought me through the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, the first of the "American Southwest"-feeling landscapes of the trip.  Great, windy road; almost no traffic.  Perfect.  It was also warm enough to be comfortable without my GoreTex jacket and pants (which can feel a bit constricting over my leathers).

Utah Highway 44, Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area.

Highways 191 and 40 brought me past Dinosaur National Monument, which is well-signed with geological unit names, dates, and fossil types -- great to see!  Highway 64 took me from Dinosaur to Meeker, then 13 to Rifle on Highway 70.  From there it was a quick ride to Carbondale -- where I staged for the next day's ride over Independence Pass.  I stayed in another KOA cabin; I've found that while the motorcycle's luggage is very limiting in what I can carry, the bulk of what I'm wearing (leathers, boots, gloves, helmet) is considerable -- and so my tiny tent is pretty cramped.  This, plus the rain, plus the wish for a quick (if not particularly early) departure in the morning has made the KOA cabins pretty close to ideal.

The White River, running along Colorado Highway 64 west of Meeker.

After unloading the bike I headed back the ~6 miles into Carbondale for dinner (the aforementioned fajitas), then stopped to gas up before returning to the KOA.  At the gas station there was another motorcyclist, on a real crotch rocket.  As customary, we said hello (just as almost every motorcyclist still waves to every other on the road).  I turned my attention to gassing up, and heard him fire up his bike -- and then proceed to rev the holy hell out of it.  He took off with engine screaming and bouncing off the rev limiter.  I turned to watch, just in time to see his bike sliding down the road, sparks flying, rider also sliding.  What. An. Idiot.  I think he was trying to wheelie, and lost control.  Please note that I don't ride this way!  I then rode back to the campground, in the dark, down the narrow country road -- eyes straining for deer.  I hate riding after dark, and avoid it whenever possible.  (Not a deer was seen.)

Day Nine: Bozeman, Montana to Montpelier, Idaho

Escape made!

Today began with dry roads and a mostly cloudy sky.  I set off down Highway 191 towards Highway 20 and the Targhee Pass.  About a half-hour south of Bozeman I hit road construction, which stopped progress for about an hour.  In my truck I would've taken a nap; with the bike, I just stood around and watched a crew work on the overhead power lines.  It was good to start moving again.

Blasting held up traffic on Montana Highway 191 for about an hour.

Highway 191 climbs gradually as it approaches the northwestern corner of Wyoming (and thus Yellowstone), and just before leaving Montana achieved an elevation high enough to maintain the dusting of snow it had received the night before.  Fortunately, the roads were mainly dry (with no ice!) and the traffic light. 

The landscape near Yellowstone was dusted with snow.

I turned left onto Highway 20 at West Yellowstone, a bit apprehensive about conditions on Targhee Pass (7,072').  I had expected more of a climb, but highways 191 and 20 had apparently made the rise gradually.  The pass came and went, and by crossing it I entered Idaho.  At Idaho Falls Highway 20 joined Interstate 15, which carried me to the Highway 30 junction a few miles south of Pocatello.  Here I turned east, happy to leave the interstate behind in favor of a secondary road.  While gassing up in Pocatello, a local had told me that Highway 30 is crawling with deer and elk, especially now that hunters are pushing them.  I kept a keen eye out for ungulate threats, but none appeared.  Reaching Montpelier, I turned left onto Highway 89, and a few miles later turned into the KOA campground.  It was a chilly day; I'm still warming up (and thankful for the heated handgrips) as I type this.

Parked for the night at the Montpelier, Idaho KOA.

Tomorrow I'll head south and east into Colorado.  The forecast, fortunately, is looking good.

Days Seven and Eight: Stuck in Bozeman, Montana

The weather and work obligations have conspired to keep me in Bozeman a bit longer than I'd hoped.  Yesterday morning's Ph.D. defense went well (congrats, Proto-Dr. Wyatt!), but the storm dumped snow on the surrounding passes.  In fact, a bit of snow was blowing here in the valley this morning.  I've been able to use the time to get some work done (and do laundry in the bathroom sink), so it's not been a complete loss.

The forecast for tomorrow is much improved, and I'll be continuing my way south.  Unfortunately, the Beartooth Highway is closed, and road cameras reveal that the higher passes are snowbound.  So, I'll be aiming for the lower passes.

Day Six: Staying Put in Bozeman, Montana

I spent the day finishing up my reading of the Ph.D. dissertation in preparation for tomorrow morning's defense.  I'll be participating via Skype, as will the external examiner.  On the walk back from dinner, the skies were looking, well, lively.

The skies to the west and south (as seen here) are getting interesting as the storm approaches.

The impending storm will keep me here tomorrow and, most likely, Thursday.  Here's hoping the skies relent and let me move on soon.

Update: The storm has arrived.

 

Day Five: Missoula, Montana to Bozeman, Montana

After a night of intermittent rain in the KOA tent site, the morning showed partly cloudy skies.  After a quick check with the Montana road condition hotline (which indicated "light rain alternating with light rain"), I loaded up and headed east for Bozeman along Interstate 90.  Fortunately, the forecasted light rain never materialized; however, the cross-winds during the first half-hour or so were simply brutal, gusting to 45 mph or so.  The bike handles gusts surprisingly well, moving downwind 4-8" while making a slight lean to windward; loosely resting your hands on the bars thus lets the bike self-correct to the wind.  Pretty cool, even if it means traveling down the road listing 5-10 degrees to windward.  The winds calmed before the grade up to Homestake Pass (at 6,368'), which was a good thing.  This being Montana, the speed limits are pretty much ignored, even by the semis -- which fly down the descent in excess of 65 mph, despite a posted limit of 25 mph for trucks.  The pass was thus made at a rather brisk (but comfortable) pace.

I'm now holed up in a motel, airing out my rain-soaked tent and about to go down to the gym.  Later, I'll return to the task of working my way through the Ph.D. thesis in preparation for Wednesday morning's defense. Although the weather in Bozeman is fine today, rain is slated to make a several-day return.  I came here to stage myself for the Beartooth Highway, the segment of Highway 212 that runs between Red Lodge and Cooke City, Montana, meandering along the Montana/Wyoming border.  It's been named both the best motorcycling road in North America and "the most beautiful drive in America" by CBS's Charles Kuralt (woohoo!), and so it might well be worth waiting for better weather later in the week -- assuming that the high passes aren't snowbound.

I didn't stop en route to take any photos today, but here's a consolation prize: a brief clip of the Triumph idling in the motel parking lot.  (Go ahead, use headphones...)

 Update: A winter storm watch was posted at 8:24 PM MDT:

Winter Storm Watch remains in effect from Wednesday morning through Thursday afternoon for elevations above 6000 feet...

A Winter Storm Watch for elevations above 6000 feet remains in effect from Wednesday morning through Thursday afternoon.

* Timing and main impact: light snow Wednesday morning will intensify by mid day and continue through Thursday. Heavier snow is likely at elevations above 5000 feet.

* Snow accumulations: total accumulations of 16 to 24 inches possible near pass level to 7000 feet... 16 to 24 inches possible above 7000 feet.

* Winds and visibility: locally heavy snow and blowing snow could reduce visibilities below one-half mile at times.

* Locations affected include: Battle Ridge Pass... Targhee Pass... West Yellowstone... Boulder Hill... Elk Park Pass... Homestake pass... Big Hole Pass... Chief Joseph Pass... Monida Pass... Kings Hill Pass... Raynolds Pass

Dangit.

Day Four: Waiting out the Weather

Rain delay!

Not much to report today.  Despite the mere 30% POP called for in the forecast, I've enjoyed several periods of rain over the past 18 hours or so.  As a result, I've stayed put in Missoula, and have passed the day reading through the Ph.D. dissertation.  We'll see what tomorrow holds, weather-wise; another day like today would be fine given my present task.

Day Three: Sandpoint, Idaho to Missoula, Montana

Saturday morning's weather was nicer than I had feared, and the forecast models had fair weather persisting until late afternoon.  Additionally, the sky was nicer to the east (my chosen direction of travel) than to the west (where the clouds showed some structure, but not too much malice), and so after a breakfast of yogurt and make-your-own-waffles I loaded up and headed back up Highway 95.  A couple of miles north of town I turned east to join up with State Highway 200.  The route is designated a national scenic byway, and continues as a series of state highways (the longest such chain in the US) as far as Minnesota. This route was suggested by Chris and Bryan, as I'd mentioned wanting to avoid high mountain passes given the looming threat of thunderstorms.  The route is designated a national scenic byway, and continues as a series of state highways (all numbered 200, the longest such chain in the US) through North Dakota and into Minnesota.

In Idaho, Highway 200 first skirts the northern shoreline of Lake Pend Orielle ("ponderay") through Hope (then East Hope and Beyond Hope), and then follows the Clark Fork River into Montana.  The road makes an endless series of sweeping turns, heaven on a motorcycle.  I'm clearly not the only one who thinks this, as when I stopped for lunch in Thompson Falls there were several sizable groups of motorcycles already parked there.  I nestled the Triumph in among a set of Alberta-tagged motorcycles.  After lunch and chatting with the bikes' owners (who were down from Lethbridge), I continued on my way.

Parked alongside other Alberta-tagged motorcycles in Thompson Falls, Montana.

The region is ideal elk territory -- rugged and big, with a mix of open and treed terrain -- and apparently also supports a healthy moose population, as evidenced by the huge antlered head and hide sitting on a flatbed trailer across the street from the ice cream parlour I somehow found myself stopped at in Wild Horse Plains.  The town is well-named, as I can't imagine living here without owning and riding horses.

This little spur road provided access to exactly one small ranch. The Clark Fork River flows along the base of the steep slope on the opposite side of the valley.

The road joined up with Interstate Highway 90 far too soon, but before the expected arrival of rain.  I continued east to Missoula, then picked a tenting spot at the KOA campground in town.  I'm an examiner in a Ph.D. defense in a few days' time, and thus have a 200-page thesis to read; the KOA provides not just a convenient location (e.g., close to Staples, where I can have a physical copy of the thesis printed off), but also WiFi for checking references and email.  Mountain camping will commence following the arrival of better weather and the completion of the thesis defense.

Camped out at the Missoula, Montana KOA.  If my Triumph marks one end of the motor camping spectrum, some of the big rigs here surely mark the far other end.

(This post was written on Day Four of the trip.)