Colorado National Monument

I’m going to skip ahead a little here. The ride from Vernal, UT to Grand Junction, CO wasn’t the most exciting except for two places of note: Dinosaur National Monument and Douglas Pass. Dinosaur was a stunning ride, made more so by the complete lack of people there at 7:30am. As I cross Douglas pass, I spotted a herd of cattle grazing in the nooks and crannies of the valley. I tried to capture this serene scene on film, but there was no good place to stop. The road was too twisty and traffic was worse than I would have expected.

Douglas Pass

More Douglas Pass

Approach to Dinosaur National Monument

Scrubby landscape

Though no Dinosaur bones were found here. Go figure.

Riding through Dinosaur

Majestic!

A quiet morning at Dinosaur

Entering Dinosaur, CO

Our camper is somewhere down there

I’ve been to Grand Junction a half-dozen times and was there primarily to visit family and friends, so I have no pictures of the town itself. Suffice it to say, it is a beautiful town surrounded by spectacular scenery. For those of you who enjoy mountain biking, Grand Junction and nearby Fruita offer the most challenging bike trails in the world. No joke!

Now, on to the star of this post. The Colorado National Monument is one of my favorite places to visit. This was my 8th visit and the second best I have experienced. The best trip was when my grandfather and I drove through during the spring of 2009 when wildflowers were in bloom, carpeting the usual brown and red landscape with bright blues and yellows. The highlights of this trip through was definitely the motorcycle and the fact that the road had been recently paved and was smooth as glass and grippy as sandpaper. It was early morning and birds of prey dotted the clear sky looking for their first meals of the day. The air was cool and refreshing on my face. I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story. Enjoy!

The Winding Road Upward

Cold Shivers Point

Some relatively recent history in the rocks

Ute Canyon

Facebook shot

Miniature landscape

Moonscape

The Mighty Pinion Tree

Red Canyon

Ute Canyon

Falling Rock

Black and White

Artists Point

Coke Oven Formations

Coke Oven Formation

Canyon view

Me!

Half Tunnel Accident

Half Tunnel

Shouldn’t have looked down

Artistic shot

Independence Rock

Pretty, huh?

I call it; Independence Monument and Pinion Tree

Spectacular!

Independence Monument

Wyoming and Utah

After leaving Yellowstone, I thought it would be a quick trip down to Jackson, WY where I could finally give my butt the break it deserved. But this being western Wyoming where one state park flows into another, I had to endure the torture of a 45mph speed limit and looky-loos still trying to catch a glimpse of wildlife on the side of the road. I wonder what people expect to see as they woosh by? A brown bear eating an elk, while a bald eagle circles above for a chance at scraps? Some people have watched way too many Animal Planet/National Geographic shows.

My butt very, very sore, I carried on, determined to sleep in a bed that night. The scenery was beautiful, no doubt, but I really didn’t pay much attention until I reached the edge of the Grand Teton National Park. What a glorious mountain chain! I could spend hours trying to convey the majesty of these mountains, but it would simply be a waste of time. If you have the chance, you must make a visit. I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

Yellowstone National Park

What can I write about Yellowstone that hasn’t already been put on paper? Besides, my trip through the park was like running through the Louvre in an hour. So much to see, so little time! I entered from the north at Gardiner, MT and was told by the ranger that the roads on the western side of the park were being re-paved. He recommended that I take the eastern route, which meant I would miss Old Faithful. I wasn’t too happy to hear that, but I was on a tight schedule. Little did I know at the time that it would take me 8 hours to ride only 160 miles. Why so long? Well, the minute I entered Yellowstone, I couldn’t help but to stop what seemed like every mile or so to take pictures. I’ll just let the pictures speak for themselves.

The Sulfur Pits. Don’t you just want jump right in?

These are the best of the bunch, in my opinion. After a five or six hours of this stop and go riding, my butt was so sore that I began to lose interest in my surroundings and just wanted to get back on the open road and find a motel. I loved my day in Yellowstone and plan to go back when I can. I’m too tired to write more. Please enjoy the pictures!

Missoula and Bozeman, MT

I woke up early in the morning, a little hungover, but ready to start the day’s ride. The weather report called for a possibility of rain, so I made sure to put my rain covers on my luggage. I hit the road at 8am and soon found myself alone on a major interstate for the next five or six miles. After five minutes of this, I began to feel like I was in my own post-apocalyptic movie. Around every bend, I expected to see the burnt out vehicles of those who weren’t fortunate enough to escape the chaos.

Idaho and Montana

I hit the road on August 1st, hoping to get into Montana before the day’s end. A couple of days before I left, I received a call from my mother with bad news about my grandfather. Needless to say, his accident forced me to speed up my trip to Colorado.

Eastern Washington, with its rolling hills carpeted with grassy pastures, corn, bean and wheat fields, has always reminded me of western/central Kansas. In other words, a little boring on the eyes. The Columbia River gorge, on the other hand, is always a spectacular sight!

About 4 hours after I left Ellensburg, I arrived in Coeur d’Alene, ID. The lake gleamed like a jewel in the bright midday sun. As I rode into town, I wondered why I had never visited this place before. Now that I had the opportunity, I quickly realized the intrinsic problem of motorcycle touring; dealing with all my stuff. I was hot and sweaty in my gear and I didn’t want to leave my bike alone for too long. Needless to say, my visit was brief, but nice. Coeur d’Alene’s downtown area is lined with quaint cafes and stores of a touristy nature. Considering my smelly state, I opted to grab a burger and huckleberry shake (delicious) at the local Zip’s and then take a walk.

After an hour or so, I couldn’t take the heat any longer and decided to get back on the road. I had many miles ahead of me and I had no idea where I was going to stop for the night. But before I left town, I took a short ride on scenic route 97, which snaked around the edge of the lake. I wish I had more pictures, but the road was narrow and winding, so there were not many places to stop.

Coeur d’Alene Lake is absolutely stunning, but I found out that it is completely bereft of life. In essence, it’s a gigantic swimming pool, the result of poisonous mining runoff over the decades. A very sad tale.

Back on I-90 East, the road climbed upwards and through the Coeur d’Alene National Forest. I welcomed the shade from the dense trees that lined the interstate, but it was short lived. I exited the forest into a series of valleys that harbor old mining towns like Kellogg, Wallace and Mullen. The sun seemed to sink faster and faster behind me. I was worried I would have to do some night riding, which considering Montana wildlife, was not a good idea. I saw some signs for motels in a town called St. Regis. That would be my stop.

This is for you, Sheldon.

Ok, bad joke, I know, but I enjoyed my stop in this one horse town. I had some dinner and visited the local bar/liquor store. This was a novel concept to me in comparison to Washington State’s draconian liquor laws. I met a local, Jim, and his out of town friend, also Jim, and we had a few drinks.

Canoeing the Yakima River

The day I arrived, Chris and I prepared for our planned canoe trip down the Yakima River. We took a drive down Highway 821 to Roza Dam, our pull out point. It was a beautiful day to preview the following day’s float trip.

We awoke mid-morning on Sunday and set out. After hiding the canoe and equipment in the tall grass along the river’s edge, I followed Chris to the pull out point. The highway runs parallel with the Yakima River and offered some great twisty spots where I could lean just a bit more than I was accustomed to in Seattle. It was great practice for the many rides to come during my trip.

After we secured the truck, Chris jumped on the back of my motorcycle and we drove back north. Chris and I are stout guys and I think we were over the weight limit for my bike, but she performed admirably. The only scary thing was feeling Chris shift his weight while he was looking around like a toddler in a candy store. I had to continually nudge him with my elbow to get him to focus. Obviously, we made it back and our river adventure soon began.

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Leg 1: Seattle to Ellensburg

82 miles

On the eastern slope of the gloriously green Cascade mountain range lies Ellensburg, WA. A quaint college/farming town, Ellensburg once vied to become the capitol of Washington state, but lost out to Olympia due geographical and probably political issues. (It’s difficult to remember every hand that needs to be greased and how much grease to use.) That was just a supposition on my part, I’m not writing a history lesson here. I stopped here to visit my friends Chris, Hanni and their beautiful little daughter Elouise. It was also a chance to catch up on my sleep and acclimate myself to the daylight hours again. (I had been working nights for 5 years.)  I apologize for the lack of pictures, but I wasn’t yet in the photo taking mood.

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Leaving Seattle

I left Seattle on July 23rd to move back to the St. Louis area. I spent the greater part of ten years in the Emerald City, more time than any other place since my childhood home. Why would I leave such a beautiful city, one may ask? I’ve heard that question often during my trip and for privacy’s sake, I’ll just say, it was for family. Those of you who know me are privy to the reasons for my departure, so I’ll just leave it at that.

At first, I was planning to move the usual, boring way, but the idea of “barreling” down the highway at 55 mph in a Uhaul truck with my motorcycle in tow was not very appealing. I had done it too many times already. The idea of a motorcycle trip just felt right. In the end, I spent a month on the road. This is a chronicle of my trip for those of you who are interested. Please enjoy!

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