Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Beartooth Bonanza

Several months ago, my buddy Steve and I talked about flying to Spain in September to watch a MotoGP race. The Iberian peninsula has always been of particular interest to us and motorcycle racing is manically popular there, so the venue seemed perfectly natural. However, life gets in the way, opportunities rise and our plans never got past the "dreaming" stage. Come September, Steve still had vacation to use, so I invited him out to Montana... for a motorcycle adventure.

Steve's flight touched down in Helena on Tuesday about 6:45pm and we immediately dropped in at The Windbag for dinner and beers. Catching up on the "good 'ol days" tends to pass the time quickly and before we could say "pour me another pint" it was time to get some rest for the next days ride.


Near White Sulphur Springs, MT
Steve's only agenda for the trip was rest and relaxation, so he left the plans to me. We packed up and headed east on US Highway 12, over the Big Belt Mountains, headed toward Wilsall for lunch. But in a last minute decision, I altered our route to scenic Highway 294 with the destination of Wade's Cafe in Harlowton, MT.
Wade's Cafe in Harlowton, MT
After a hardy meal and friendly service, we rode south on Highway 191 towards the city of Big Timber. I had never traveled on this stretch of Highway 191 and found it to be very scenic with wide open prairie to the east, the eastern slope of the Crazy Mountains to the west and the dominating Beartooth Plateau to the south. Our delicious meal started to take a toll and made us sleepy; not a great feeling while riding a motorcycle. A quick rest stop at The Fort in Big Timber revived our senses for the next leg of our journey.

Brumfield Rd between Reed Point and Columbus, MT
Our destination for today was Red Lodge and one of the roads leading there is Highway 78, arguably one of the nicest in Montana. Always one for avoiding Interstate Highways and exploring new roads, I decided to take a short cut on Brumfield Rd. This road was surprisingly more paved than expected and offered a beautiful vantage point in which to overlook the Yellowstone Valley to the north. Once we reached Highway 78, we quickly moved thru the town of Absarokee on our way to the Grizzly Bar.
"Where IS the Grizzly Bar?"
"In Roscoe, MT!"
"Where the hell is Roscoe, MT?"
"Right here...."
Grizzly Bar in Roscoe, MT.
After a refreshment, we had to be getting on the road. The sun was dropping and the temperature with it. The last leg of our days ride was only 20 miles and was filled with sweeping corners and smooth pavement, but at dusk you must stay vigilant for wildlife crossing the road, especially in the rolling grasslands.

Red Lodge is a small resort town at the eastern entrance to the Beartooth Highway. It's a vibrant city, full of saloons, hotels and restaurants and active year round. Nearby Red Lodge Mountain Resort draws skiers and snowboarders in the winter; Yellowstone Park and the many fishing streams draw tourists in the summer. There is even a motorbike rally in July.

We decided to stay at the historic Pollard Hotel on the main drag. Rooms were affordable and included a full breakfast. New to the Pollard was their Irish Pub that offered a nice selection of beers and delicious food. We must recommend the Fish & Chips; they also have a tasty Gazpacho.
Starting up the Beartooth Highway
The next morning we anticipated cool weather and dressed appropriately. However, to our delight the morning temperatures were in the 50's. Perfect! After a quick stop at the famous Montana Candy Emporium, we made our way out of town and up the switchbacks to the Beartooth Plateau.

Normally this 65 mile road is about a two and a half hour ride to Cooke City, but today we took six hours traversing this winding ribbon of alpine asphalt. Every ten miles we would stop, take in the scenery and chat with other travelers. Our BMW motorcycles seemed to get attention at every stop, drawing out questions like: "Where ya goin?" or "Looks like fun.." and "Those bikes are beasts!"

One of the more interesting spots we stopped at was the Top of the World Store. Roughly halfway between Cooke City and Red Lodge, the store sits at 9400 ft elevation and is only accessible by snowmobile in the winter; though the Beartooth Highway closes to vehicle traffic in October, the store stays open year round.
Looking back... we should have camped here.
By the time we made it to Cooke City, it was getting late in the afternoon. Our goal had been to ride thru the park and end the day in West Yellowstone. Although possible, we decided it would be best to find lodging in Cooke City and drive into Yellowstone in the morning for a full day of sightseeing.
Beartooth Cafe in Cooke City, MT
During a late lunch at the world famous Beartooth Cafe, we inquired about accommodations with our server; she seemed skeptical that we'd find a room as most hotels already turned on their "no vacancy" signs. However, the cafe next door advertised cabins for rent.
"I have one left..." said the woman behind the counter. "You wanna take a look?"
After a quick inspection we decided to take what could have been the last room in town.
Cozy Cabin Lodging
A cool morning and breakfast at the Bistro followed the great nights rest. We packed up our gear, headed down the road and passed through the northeast gate of Yellowstone at about ten o'clock eager to see the Worlds First National Park. Our first stop was to view the Buffalo herd lounging about in the Lamar Valley; popular for anglers too.
Lamar Valley, Yellowstone NP
Second stop was along the Yellowstone River just south of Roosevelt Lodge. There we met Brian Ross, a 23 year old fellow from Queensland, Australia who had been riding his Suzuki DR650 through South America. I gave him a business card and offered any support I could give if he was going to be in Helena (the next day, took me up on my offer and I helped him change a set of tires and gave him a place to rest for the evening).  

Our third stop was Tower Fall. We mistakenly stopped here, but used this time to go to the restrooms. While shedding layers of clothes and suiting back up, our bikes garnered more attention from passers-by. I noticed a young woman taking a photograph of my motorbike from the front seat of her car, I also noticed she had a "Triumph" motorcycle sticker in her window. I struck up a conversation and she introduced herself as Amanda, a writer on a soul-searching trip through America who was headed toward California. We shared some stories and I suggested places to visit while in Montana (I would meet up with her again as she passed through Helena).

Lower Yellowstone Falls, YNP
Our fourth stop was at the Lower Yellowstone Falls, one of the best features in YNP. We walked to an overlook to take photos, but ended up taking more photos for other visitors. Hiking down to a closer vantage point seemed like a good idea until we started our accent back up the trail; 25 extra pounds of gear makes a big difference. 
Don't Drink That!

After lunch at near by Canyon Village, it was time to head towards West Yellowstone and beyond. We made a couple short stops along the Gibbon River and saw a large bull Elk along the Madison. By the time we made it to the west gate it was 4:30 pm. I called ahead to reserve a room at my favorite Montana Hotel; I'd been bragging about the Sacajawea for days, and thought it was time Steve experience it. 

Not happy to leave YNP
We were about two and a half hours away from the hotel, so that meant we had to race the sun if we were to make Three Forks by dark. Our route followed the Gallatin River along Highway 191 until Bozeman Hot Springs; there we headed west along Highway 84 to the "surprise" road of the trip, Highway 288. Sometimes called Churchill Road, Highway 288 rolls through the country side on its way to Manhattan. The views of the surrounding mountains behind golden fields lit by the fading sun was postcard perfect. I should have stopped to take a photo...

By the time we reached Three Forks the sun had descended behind the Tobacco Roots. The hotel was buzzing with activity; live music, a rehearsal dinner and a full restaurant. After unloading the bikes, we found an empty spot at the bar and enjoyed Montana craft beers from the tap and a tasty meal, then retired to the massive front porch to talk about the days ride. Steve was impressed!
The Sacajawea Hotel inThree Forks, MT
The last day of riding would be brief as Steve had a flight to catch that afternoon. Three Forks is a short distance from Helena so we had time to do a bit of sight seeing. The Headwaters State Park is located just minutes from the hotel and since Steve grew up near the Missouri River near Rocheport, MO, I thought it would be perfect to show him where that grand river begun. We stood on the banks of the Madison River where it joins with the Jefferson and wondered how Lewis and Clark decided which route to take.
The Headwaters of the Missouri River
Soon we were on the road again, but our route was to take us to Helena. I chose a gravel road, short cut to Highway 69 and the city of Boulder. When we reached Helena, we had a few minutes to spare and I decided to take a route through the South Hills section of town. There, a road leads to a vista that overlooks the entire valley and an opportunity for one final photo.
Overlooking Helena
Steve made his flight but I sensed that he wanted to stay and continue to ride. Montana is hard to leave behind; we met some great folks and saw some beautiful country. Good to see you in my rear-view mirrors for a few days, ol' buddy. Come out again soon! 

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Letting the Wind Decide, pt 2

Livingston Montana has become a second home for me. My good friends Sarah Ann and Justin live just outside of town and are always gracious to loan their couch to me when I roll in for a visit. The coming weekend was the famed Art Walk in Downtown Livingston and Park County Studio Tour for local artists, and I thought I'd stick around to lend my support. There were a couple of days before the festivities started and I decided to ride towards Yellowstone to see what business contacts I could make.

After breakfast at Pinky's in downtown Livingston, I rolled south towards the Paradise Valley. This Valley, possibly the most famous in Montana, follows the Yellowstone towards the Park. I chose to ride the East River Road to avoid the busy Highway 89 and check out the little community of Pine Creek. The East River Road winds leisurely between the pastures and mountains with numerous access points into the National Forest and Wilderness.
Paradise Valley near Pine Creek
Near Pray is a popular destination called Chico Hot Springs. "Chico" is known for its local charm, soothing waters and having one of the finest restaurants in Montana. This is a perfect stop for weary bikers in need of a soak and a toddy at the end of long days ride. I decide to stop in and introduce myself. After a nice discussion with sales associate Ching Ling Coleman and a brief tour with a wonderful Breve Latte, I continued my journey in the Paradise Valley letting the prevailing winds take me. 

After a couple hours of exploring gravel roads, I found myself in Gardiner at the North Gate of Yellowstone Park. Time had gotten away from me and I made the decision not to back track to Livingston but enter the park to find a campsite. Like a needle in a compass, the natural inclination was to stay in the Northeast sector, my favorite part of Yellowstone.

Yellowstone Park east of the Lamar Valley

Tourist traffic is typically heavy this time of year, but for some reason todays traffic was light, making the ride through the Bison filled Lamar Valley enjoyable. All campgrounds along the way were full and I continued up Soda Butte Creek towards the Northeast Gate. In my rear view mirrors I could see a storm brewing, following my path into Cooke City. Uh-oh..

State Campgrounds are plentiful just to the east and I thought that any of those would be perfect. However, all had restricted tent camping due to the Grizzly Bear activity; RV camping only. My only choice was to enter onto the Beartooth Highway and the plateau that is home to the highest peaks in Montana. The storm behind was bearing down quickly and cracks of thunder could be heard ricocheting off the exposed peaks. Time to find a campsite... and quick!

Near Island Park Campground with thunder getting closer, I found a primitive site, quickly set up my tent and dove in as the wind started to buffet the walls. Soon the rain would fall and I would drift off to sleep and awaken hours later to the sound of a distant Coyote. With the storm gone, I would spend a peaceful, chilly evening at 9500 ft before riding the "most beautiful road in America" and making my way back to Livingston.







Thursday, September 8, 2011

Letting the Wind Decide

Summer is short in Montana. One could bet that May through September are the six solid riding months, but this year winter lingered through May and into June. Suddenly, six months turned into five. Having spent a month doing my duty for King and Country, I rode very little... and five months turned into four.
Feeling the crunch that the summer was going to get away from me, my endeavor was to ride as much as possible; cataloging routes, taking photos, meeting business contacts and enjoying the open road. 

Wetting my finger and raising it to the air, I set off from Helena with no real plan. The prevailing winds were blowing SW, so I started towards Livingston, MT to visit friends. My preferred route to the SW is always Hwy 69 that runs southerly from Boulder to Cardwell. I spotted a route on the map that cut across to Three Forks and was curious and decided to take an adventure. The loose gravel of Dunn Ln gave way to a sandy two-track in a dry and barren landscape reminiscent of something you might experience in Kenya. In fact, if I had seen a Zebra or a Giraffe, I wouldn't have been the least surprised.

Price Rd and the wheat fields.

The route continued on as Price Rd, dissecting farms, ranches and a subdivision until it reached Highway 287. Crossing the Highway, I decided to take Old Town Road and the back way into Three Forks. "Old Town" refers to the old town of Three Forks that was moved to accomodate the Milwaukee Road Railroad in the early 20th Century. 

My goal was to stop and check out the Sacajawea Hotel as a possible host destination for future motorcycle tours. Up the stairs and through the squeaky wood doors, I was transported back in time. The lobby, with its dark wood staircase, columns and reception desk, makes a delightful first impression; the Big Band Jazz playing in the background added to the atmosphere. I was immediately hooked. After a wonderful introduction and discussion about future cooperation, Dorothy Meyer, the Hotel Events Coordinator, took me on a tour. She showed me a couple of rooms, Pompeys Grill and Sacajawea Bar; I was even more impressed now. Although I didn't want to leave the Hotel and considered staying the night, I decided to continue on to Livingston but promised to return in a few days.
Sacajawea Hotel - Three Forks, MT
The afternoon heat was increasing as I swung a leg over the bike and started the engine. I slowly made my way to Bozeman, stopping briefly at the Headwaters State Park to pay my respects to the mighty Missouri River. Upon reaching Bozeman, I stopped at REI to pick up some supplies and see a friend of mine. We had planned on getting a beer after her shift was over, but decided to wait until later in the weekend as I was too pooped from riding in the heat.

Livingston is a short drive over the Bozeman Pass by Interstate. But always in favor of avoiding the Interstates, I chose the backroads through Bridger Canyon and Jackson Creek. When I finally pulled into Livingston, I stopped at the Town and Country Supermarket and called my friend Justin.
"Hey, I'm gonna pick up some beer, what kind do you want?"
"Yes.." he replied.
Rephrasing the question, I asked.."Do you want Bayern Amber or Keystone?"
"Yes.." he repeated.
I then realized I'd asked a silly question. Like myself, Justin fears no beer and so long as it is cold and wet, any beer will satisfy. Though I like Montana craft beers, I chose Keystone because the cans fit better in the panniers. Ah, the sacrifices we make traveling by motorcycle.

Tacky, yet refined

The day ended with a perfect, windless night. Anyone familiar with Livingston, Montana appreciates those few days the wind DOES NOT blow, so we sat out on the patio watching the Absaroka Mountain Range turn orange, then purple and sipped on some ice cold brews. Tomorrow I'll be on my way towards Yellowstone Park and points beyond with no agenda. 
"Where ya gonna go from there?" asked Justin.
"Dunno. I think I'll just wet my finger, hold it in the air and let the wind decide."

Evening in Livingston