After 9 weeks on the road, a bit of fatigue is showing and we find ourselves dragging a bit in the mornings before hitting the pavement. There were several small issues to catch up on after a breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese made in the room's kitchenette, such as chain maintenance, cleaning some gear and clothes, boiling, sterilizing and cleaning kitchen utensils, and most importantly updating the cases with a few more stickers...
It was probably 11 am before we got on the bikes in the clear, cool air, the sun still not up to full broil yet. We grabbed some gas in Cooke City and then headed for the junction where Chief Joseph Scenic Byway connects to the Beartooth, continuing on to the Pass and eventually Red Lodge, Montana.
The climb to Beartooth was in crystal clear air, Kim a bit nervous since someone we'd spoken to had mentioned the winds at the top, but I assured her they wouldn't be anything like the winds we encountered at Red Canyon. There was little to no traffic as we passed Top of the World, the little store near the pass that is inhabited by the owners all winter and who have to trek down by snowmobile when the snows come. Several white university vans were parked along the roadside, a series of students standing in various places in the high meadow, each with a clipboard. It vaguely reminded me of a Monty Python sketch, but then again most things in life do...
The road was stunning, one of my favorites, and The Iron Butterfly was truly enjoying the views and curves. We stopped at the top to walk out and check the vistas, the sun warm and the winds almost non-existent. A few pics were shot and we motored on til the Montana sign called us aside for a pic or two.
The ride down the northern side is superb with views reminiscent of Switzerland and switchbacks down to the valley. Nearing the bottom the heat began to rise and by the time we rolled into the little town of Red Lodge it was full on Texas hot. We couldn't find shade fast enough and bailed out of our riding jackets to search for a cool drink and either wifi or a cell signal. Silver Gate had no cell service or wifi and after a couple of days without, we needed to feed on the teats of technology.
The heat made doing much in Red Lodge unappealing, not that there is a lot to do in the little town. It seemed as if it had grown and become a bit more “touristy” than my first time through. However almost 10 years had passed since then and I read somewhere that it has become a sort of mini Sturgis, hosting a big Harley rally that has grown significantly.
Must say I’d agree…
Cody, Wyoming was our next destination and I warned Kim to expect more heat there and on the way. We both decided it was better to avoid heat stroke and take our chances riding without jackets until it cooled down some. As we passed the old mine on the way to Belfry, a few riders on V-Stroms and GS's passed coming the opposite direction, heading full speed for the town. Short waves expressed both our feelings of camaraderie and the heat. At Belfry the turn south brought a slight puff of cool air as we passed some trees, but soon we were in the rolling plains, the heat feeling like a blow dryer on high in your face.
A hot highway south for Cody
We passed the entrance to Chief Joseph Byway a few miles before Cody and I was tempted to make the turn and forget the town due to the heat, but we raced on. As we finally pulled in, we checked for shade and Googled “Sierra Trading Post” since they have a clearance store there. Last time I'd been through Cody I'd stopped in and gotten some hellacious discounts on a few outdoor foofoo's and a new Marmot tent. The Butterfly and I needed to replace a couple of items in our cooking rig and grab a shirt or two to replace clothing ruined while camping. While we were there, we spotted a small Italian Ferrino tent at huge discount, that packed small enough to be carried as a second tent on Kim's bike.
We debated whether it would be good to have it for quick roadside overnights and save the big REI Kingdom for the times we planned to stay a few days in an area. In the end we decided to add it since we had room, giving us an option and also a backup if the REI takes a poop in the wind. The small duffle on Kim's bike needed a bit more in it to use as a backrest on long stretches, and she was actually happy the small tent filled the bag. Being gear minimalists, it’s a bit funny to be carrying TWO tents, but it seemed to make sense at the time.
The last time I'd been to Sierra Trading Post there, aside from the 50% off price, the cashier gave me another 30% off and an additional 15% above that. This time they wouldn't do it, but the manager knocked off another 20% since I couldn't access my online coupons.
Most of the day had passed and the sun was getting lower as we rode back to Chief Joseph and made the turn back west for Silver Gate near the entrance to Yellowstone National Park and our little motel room. I was miffed to find the Chief Joseph Byway sign removed for road construction, messing up my selfie plan to point to my name. Life sucks and then you die.
The road was as stunning as ever, despite plenty of road repairs in progress. The cooler air and winds were nice after baking in the valleys and we made a few stops for overlooks.
As they say in northern states… “There are only two seasons here - winter and road-repair.”
As breathtaking as Beartooth Pass is, I think Chief Joseph Byway may be the most beautiful road in America.
A stop at a canyon overlook was shared with several guys from Canada on Harleys, all trying to appear both badass and obnoxious. They succeeded in one and not the other, being only obnoxious, not to mention “lily white” from their likely jobs as accountants or bankers. Swigging beer and looking over the precipice, two eventually climbed down to a very precarious area on the edge of the precipice to take a couple of selfies. We both expected to have a front row seat to their plummeting, shrieking deaths since they were a bit drunk and stumbling along the edge in thick soled biker boots. Thankfully our day wasn't ruined with that scenario and we fired up to head on.
As at many stops, the guys watched somewhat incredulously as Kim rode by on her GS. It's been entertaining watching the swiveling heads peering at a woman on a gear-loaded adventure bike with blonde hair blowing in the wind. If I could make a buck for each look we might could fund our trip...
In our haste to get out of the heat in Cody, we’d forgotten to gas up and Kim's fuel light had popped on just at the entrance to the byway. It continued to nag until we eventually reached the lone gas station on the byway. The pump was locked and I went in to ask about fuel. The young guy inside said he'd sold out of fuel that morning, having had the busiest weekend ever. As he walked me out he saw the bikes and said "Cool! You guys are on GS's and I've got an F800 myself." He wished us a safe trip and apologized for the lack of fuel.
Which allows me to make a point as to why I chose the Adventure model of the BMW R1200GS. As has happened in the past on my previous bike, there’ve been a few times where the only station in a long stretch has been closed or out of gas, and I’ve barely made my destination on fumes. In the western US and similar places such as the Yukon or Alaska, fuel stops are scarce and untrustworthy, and the 9 gallon fuel tank on a GSA gets nearly double the distance of a typical 5 gallon tank. Topping up the big fuel tank has taken a lot of stress out of my exploratory travels, where high winds or a poor running bike can cause bad gas mileage and in new territory you really have no idea where the next fuel can be. In most places, it’s not an issue, but when you venture farther out having extra fuel is quite a relief.
The last few miles of Chief Joseph brought glimpses of Beartooth peak, shrouded in a dark cloud with shafts of light streaming past, appearing like the abode of some dark lord in a fantasy movie.
By the time we reached Cooke City before Silver Gate, we were starving and after filling the bikes with gas, hit the local little grocery store. The tiny store was crammed with several stoned guys - obviously camping in the area - who blocked the tiny aisles like zombies, staring blankly at the refrigerated case in a fog. We were tired and hungry and their ignorance of keeping anyone, not just us, from getting food made me want to knock some heads. Kim saved the day by squeezing through and pushing her way in, grabbing a few things while I muttered and waited, the long day and the heat having made me Mr. Crabs.
The last couple of miles at dusk to Silver Gate seemed like forever, but we finished the day with grilled sausage and some awesome mashed taters whipped up by the Butterfly. We followed it with an evening around the campfire at the lodge.
Life’s good and sometimes you don't die...
