After a great nights sleep on the banks of the Wise River, our priorities were to light a small smoky fire, enjoy a cup of java and pack up camp before the mosquitos returned for a morning meal. Within minutes our belongs were secure, the fire doused, and we continued our trip on the Pioneer Scenic Byway. The road switched back and forth to the top of the pass and onto a plateau of meadows and marshes backdropped with 10,000 ft peaks; a beautiful mornings ride! Joel saw a Moose... I missed it.
Our next stop was Bannack, the short lived, first territorial capital of Montana, located just west of Dillon. In 1862, the town started to boom when gold was discovered in Grasshopper Creek nearby. I think they should have named it Mosquito Creek, because I sure didn't see any grasshoppers.
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| The boardwalks of Bannack |
But as we opened the door to the saloon there was nothing but dust, skeeters and the ghosts of the ones who came before us... it was just my fanciful imagination. But I couldn't go back on my word and bought Joel a round.
We rolled out of Dillon about 1 o'clock. Our ultimate goal for the day was Virginia City, where we decided that we would try to get a hotel room instead of camp. VA City is a quick trip by pavement, but we wanted something more exciting and decided to take Sweetwater Rd into the Ruby Reservoir. A good sized thunderstorm was developing over the Ruby Range; soggy road ahead? The rain started to fall on us halfway into this leg of the trip. The road was packed sand, so the water drained quickly making easier going across the sage covered, high prairie ranch land. Dipping into a canyon reminicant of the old west movies, water started to pool up and the road became slick. However, the BMW's are very capable when loaded down with heavy gear and we made through wet, but unscathed.
Virginia City was bustling just like the old days; except it was full of tourists instead of prospectors. Within seconds of arriving Joel had popped across the street to get ice cream while I watched over the motorcycles as if they were tied up to an old hitching post. There were plenty of people browsing around the muddy off road bikes, curious to know where we were from and what adventures we had encountered. One fellow from Helena had just returned from a 6000 mile trip to Alaska on his bike; One character stumbled out of the Pioneer Bar to tell us his story of dumping his Harley-Davidson on a sandy road in Baja, Mexico after he had done some "blow" and refused to accept any help from some hikers, "By God, if I can't pick up the motorcycle by myself, I shouldn't be riding it." He claimed. Joel and I looked at each other thinking, "Hmmm, maybe you shouldn't do "blow" before riding?" Just a thought....
The next order of business was to find accommodations. The place I had in mind was the Fairweather Inn, named after one of the first prospectors in Alder Gulch... and located right in the heart of the bustling city. The Hamiltons (John and Linda & John and Carolyn) helped us get a room for the night. We discovered they were avid motorcycle riders and they told us about the trails that could be explored in the local mountains. Gonna have to come back soon.
Afternoon fell into dusk and the number of tourist dwindled. Wandering over to the Pioneer Bar for a quick beer, we talked about dinner and decided to try Outlaw's Cafe; Joel could not stop thinking about their sandwich called the "Robbers Rooster" which he had spotted on a menu at the hotel. I had my doubts walking into the cafe, but when the our sandwiches arrived we were both amazed; how can you beat a deep fried chicken breast topped with a grilled green chili pepper and pepperjack cheese between slices of buttery Texas Toast.. and fries? Yum! We both HIGHLY recommend the Outlaw's Cafe!
We continued our evening walking the barrooms of Virginia City, swaggering into the Bale of Hay Saloon and being served by the Commissioner of Silver Bow County; striding to the Wells Fargo for margaritas made by a bar tender who deeply missed living in Los Angeles, and ended up where we begun at the Pioneer Bar. The ornate wood bar back, we discovered, had a history; it was brought up the Missouri River by boat and transported to the Lemp Bar in Butte. Coincidentally, Lemp is an old brewing family name from St. Louis and Joel thinks there is a connection between the two. Stay tuned, he's doing some research.
The night quickly passed and we needed to get some rest for our final day of riding. The town was now deserted as the tourists migrated to their quarters; only the sounds of laughter from the locals at the Pioneer Bar drifted into the street. The wind picked up and cooled off the hotel room... is that thunder I hear?
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| Bar tending in Bannack |
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| A good Guide makes a point of everything... |
After our imaginary beer, we stayed long enough to say hello to a few folks and pack our bags. The next stop was Dillon with lunch on the docket. Sparky's Garage was the first restaurant we came to as we slipped into town. I heard about this place years ago and always wanted to stop... this was my chance.
The inside is decorated in automobile memorabilia including old fuel pumps, cans and assorted tools. Just the place for a couple of gear heads to have lunch. The service and biscuits and gravy were excellent.
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| Storm clouds ahead |
We rolled out of Dillon about 1 o'clock. Our ultimate goal for the day was Virginia City, where we decided that we would try to get a hotel room instead of camp. VA City is a quick trip by pavement, but we wanted something more exciting and decided to take Sweetwater Rd into the Ruby Reservoir. A good sized thunderstorm was developing over the Ruby Range; soggy road ahead? The rain started to fall on us halfway into this leg of the trip. The road was packed sand, so the water drained quickly making easier going across the sage covered, high prairie ranch land. Dipping into a canyon reminicant of the old west movies, water started to pool up and the road became slick. However, the BMW's are very capable when loaded down with heavy gear and we made through wet, but unscathed.
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| Virginia City, Montana |
Virginia City was bustling just like the old days; except it was full of tourists instead of prospectors. Within seconds of arriving Joel had popped across the street to get ice cream while I watched over the motorcycles as if they were tied up to an old hitching post. There were plenty of people browsing around the muddy off road bikes, curious to know where we were from and what adventures we had encountered. One fellow from Helena had just returned from a 6000 mile trip to Alaska on his bike; One character stumbled out of the Pioneer Bar to tell us his story of dumping his Harley-Davidson on a sandy road in Baja, Mexico after he had done some "blow" and refused to accept any help from some hikers, "By God, if I can't pick up the motorcycle by myself, I shouldn't be riding it." He claimed. Joel and I looked at each other thinking, "Hmmm, maybe you shouldn't do "blow" before riding?" Just a thought....
The next order of business was to find accommodations. The place I had in mind was the Fairweather Inn, named after one of the first prospectors in Alder Gulch... and located right in the heart of the bustling city. The Hamiltons (John and Linda & John and Carolyn) helped us get a room for the night. We discovered they were avid motorcycle riders and they told us about the trails that could be explored in the local mountains. Gonna have to come back soon.
Afternoon fell into dusk and the number of tourist dwindled. Wandering over to the Pioneer Bar for a quick beer, we talked about dinner and decided to try Outlaw's Cafe; Joel could not stop thinking about their sandwich called the "Robbers Rooster" which he had spotted on a menu at the hotel. I had my doubts walking into the cafe, but when the our sandwiches arrived we were both amazed; how can you beat a deep fried chicken breast topped with a grilled green chili pepper and pepperjack cheese between slices of buttery Texas Toast.. and fries? Yum! We both HIGHLY recommend the Outlaw's Cafe!
We continued our evening walking the barrooms of Virginia City, swaggering into the Bale of Hay Saloon and being served by the Commissioner of Silver Bow County; striding to the Wells Fargo for margaritas made by a bar tender who deeply missed living in Los Angeles, and ended up where we begun at the Pioneer Bar. The ornate wood bar back, we discovered, had a history; it was brought up the Missouri River by boat and transported to the Lemp Bar in Butte. Coincidentally, Lemp is an old brewing family name from St. Louis and Joel thinks there is a connection between the two. Stay tuned, he's doing some research.
The night quickly passed and we needed to get some rest for our final day of riding. The town was now deserted as the tourists migrated to their quarters; only the sounds of laughter from the locals at the Pioneer Bar drifted into the street. The wind picked up and cooled off the hotel room... is that thunder I hear?
