A New Friend, Glacier Park and a Monkey Butt Ride

Many weeks ago a motorcyclist contacted me through Horizons Unlimited, a website designed for world motorcycle travelers. Sasan was looking for cheap accomodations and general help on his long haul from Tampa, Florida to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. I agreed to help and offered up my shop to conduct any repairs he needed and to put him up for the night as I have a comfy couch.

When he arrived, we picked up some fresh oil and fluids for his R100GS/PD and got a snack from Wheat Montana Farms. Once the fluids were changed and he caught up on emails, we headed to the Marysville House Steakhouse and Saloon for a truly unique Montana experience. After a great steak dinner and a short ride to the Continental Divide, we headed back to the house for some much needed rest before a long ride to Glacier Park and beyond the next day.

The Rocky Mountain Front near Augusta, MT

The morning started off cool, in fact a little too cool for my Florida friend as he quickly had to dig into his Alaska clothing. The mid fifties is unseasonably cool for early August so I didn't blame him a bit for feeling chilly, I thought it felt great however.

Fields of Wheat near Dupuyer, MT

Our route, US 287 and US 89, is the most direct route from Helena to the east side of Glacier Park through Wolf Creek, Augusta, Choteau, and Browning. It's a route of contrasts, with rolling grasslands to the east and towering peaks of the Rocky Mountain Front to the west; one of my favorite routes in all Montana.

St Mary, MT

By the time we made it to St. Mary, the eastern terminus of the Going-to-the-Sun Road, it was 1pm and we were ready for lunch. The St Mary Lodge was jam packed with tourists, especially motorcyclists; it was if there were a motorcycle rally in Glacier Park! (not a bad idea actually). After a quick bite to eat, Sasan was on his way to the Piegan Border Crossing, Calgary and beyond. Though I was feeling very envious of his adventure to the Great White North and would rather have joined the expedition, I turned back towards Helena. Should I retrace my steps or turn to enter the park?

East Entrance to Glacier Park

Well, being this close to my favorite place in Montana, not venturing across the Going-to-the-Sun to West Glacier was out of the question. Knowing this would extend my trip by two hours, I proceeded through the gate and slowly made my way up to Logan Pass.

Going-to-the-Sun Road

Due to the large amounts of snow and the late winter, the parks lakes and waterfalls were full of mountain run-off; the forests greener than I'd seen in ten years. However, the construction crews also got a late start and this year the congestion along the GttS Road seemed to be the worst I'd seen. What usually takes 2 hours with photo stops took 3.5 hours this time.

Mt. Reynolds

Frustrated and hot, I reached Apgar Village ready to put some miles behind me. Helena is at least a four hour ride from West Glacier and riding through the Seeley-Swan Valley is a long, dangerous stretch of highway; not the best when tired. Near Big Fork I pulled over to have an ice cream cone and a Red Bull (doesnt sound appealing, but it hit the spot) and begun my long evening ride. I tucked behind a large SUV that was part of a long line of cars. Somehow I feel safer surrounded by vehicles going through the Seeley-Swan; theory being the larger autos scare wildlife from wandering onto the road. 80 miles later I emerge from the valley unscathed and seeing very few deer. Maybe my theory works...

Dusk is upon me as I pass through Ovando and must change my smoked faceshield to clear. It's Monday night and there is hardly a soul on Hwy 141; I passed only one car in 40 miles. The closer I got to McDonald Pass the more I wanted the days ride to end, but caution is needed this close to home. The decent into the Helena Valley is a wonderful series of sweeping curves, perfect for two-wheeled scoots. Though my 1200GS is a dual purpose touring bike, it handles like a sportbike; sure footed and true. I breathe a sigh of relief that the 14 hour, 465 mile day is over as I cross the city limits and pull into my drive. I thought of my new friend and wondered if he had made it to Calgary safely, dreaming that someday I can take the trip.

Motorcycling is a wonderful sport and the community of riders that accompany are just as wonderful. Through the power of the internet, we can make new friends and share adventures and I'm glad to have been a small part of Sasan's. I look forward to meeting more new friends along backroads of Montana and maybe someday the backroads of the world.

The Pony Express

Virginia City is a lonely town at 7:30 in the morning; no traffic, no people, just peace and quiet. We took advantage of the tranquility to snap a few photos along the boardwalks and enjoyed having the town to ourselves. My hunger could not be satisfied with two granola bars and a cup of coffee, then out came the words "breakfast" and I had biscuits and gravy on the brain. Within minutes we were packed and ready for the last leg of our adventure. 

Boardwalks of Virginia City

Fairweather Inn

The next stop on the adventure was to be the town of Ennis, in the Madison River Valley; arguably the most beautiful valley in Montana. This is a small ranching community which is known for its seasonal influxes of hunters and anglers. Having never spent more than 10 minutes passing through, I knew nothing of Ennis and where to get a good, hot breakfast. Biker mantra number two states: "ask the locals, they know" and heeding that advice we made a hasty stop at a local coffee shack. A very attractive, middle aged woman slides the window open with a strange look on her face; She must be thinking "How are these guys gonna drink coffee on their bikes?"

"Hi there! Where can we get the best breakfast in town?" I ask.

Quickly and confidently she replies, "The Sportman's Lodge, don't go anywhere else."

"Wow! That good..?"

"It's that good."

The Sportsman's Lodge didnt disappoint; the breakfast was hardy, service was excellent and we were happy with the check. On our way out the door we were greeted by a fellow who ask about our bikes, "Love your bikes, where ya headed?"
"We're headed to Pony and want to take Meadow Road to Norris. Are you a local?" I asked.
"Yep, I live around here, and thats a great road with very distinctive rock formations; the Indians used it as a landmark, you two will love it!"
Joel had been watching a storm build over the Tobacco Roots all morning and now the darkest part was over our planned route. "Looking pretty dark over there." he stated.
"No worries, I'm sure it will be fine."

Prepare for the emerging storm!

At the town of McAllister, we pulled over to make last minute preparations before turning onto Meadow Road and into the storm. Meadow Road heads west skirting closer to the mountains and is dotted with ranches and vacation homes. As we enjoyed the scenery, I spotted some large birds and decided to stop and take a closer look. Perched in a tree were three Bald Eagles above the pasture looking for a noon meal. Though I live in Montana, Joel sees far more Eagles than I do as they have become quite common along the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers near St. Louis. Joel was burning up inside his rain gear and wanted to get going, so we only stopped long enough to take a few photos.

A bird in hand...

From here, the road narrows and snakes its way up through rock formations that resemble military fortifications. This ridge would be easily defendable and hard to ambush; no wonder the Indians used this area. Meadow Road changes names to Warm Springs Road, but also changes characteristics from packed shale to loose sand. If you are not used to it, loose sand is intimidating; but once you learn to  lighten the front wheel by staying on the throttle, sand can be fun. Eventually we made to Norris without getting wet, the fast moving storm out ran us; poor Joel sweated in his rain suit for nothing.

The next destination was Pony, our fourth old mining town but not quite a ghost town. It was just before noon when we arrived at the Pony Bar and folks were already waiting for the bar to open... hmmm, they start early in Pony. Turns out these folks were members of the band that played a gig the night before; they were waiting for the bar to open so they could pack their equipment. Seems as though the band camped out that evening, and having been kept awake by a fierce thunderstorm, were still reeling from the effects of too much gin. When the bar opened, they had Bloody Mary's, we stayed with Root Beer.

The Pony Bar

After discussing Wine, Women and Motorcycles, Joel and I departed on our last leg of the day to the Ghost Town of Comet, near Boulder, MT.

Comet had two boom year's, one during the mid-1880's and the second in the 1920's and 30's. Ore mined here was shipped by rope tram, down the steep hill, to the nearby smelter at Wickes, MT. As many as 300 residents lived here patronizing 22 saloons... wow! Sadly, all that is left of the town is the old mill and company buildings (built in 1926), some store fronts and homes. The mine is on private property, but the public is welcome to visit. Please respect these treasures and tread lightly.

Comet, MT

(Note: It is NOT recommended to travel the road from Comet to Wickes, down the steep hill mentioned above.

"How do I know this?" You ask.

I travelled this road against the recommendation of a local.

Fellow bike riders: this was the steepest hill I have ever descended, comprised of the slipperiest shale. I locked up and slid both tires the entire slope. When I surprisingly reached the flat ground at Wickes, I dismounted my bike and kissed the ground.)

Joel's Montana trip was quickly coming to an end. It was getting late and we had to make a break for it to avoid an incoming storm. Reluctantly we took the Interstate back into Helena and made our way to the Sushi Bar for dinner.
"We saw five ghost towns, a bear, a moose, some eagles; lots of mountains, lots of sky and lots of mosquitos. So, what was your favorite part of your trip?" I asked.
"Comet," he replied, "was just what I came to see."
Happy to know that the last site we visited was icing on the cake, we toasted the last three days with a bottle of beer.

Tuesday morning, Joel left Montana, back into the heat of the mid-west summer. Driving back home from the Airport, I started to reflect on MY favorite part of the trip; was it the bear, the mountains, the ghost towns? Nah... my favorite part was riding with a good friend. Come back soon, Joel! I'll have the bikes ready for another Big Sky Adventure.