A Northwest Ride

[Nails]

I just got back from a 2-week trip: New Mexico to Spokane and back. It was great, but I might’ve trashed my rear brake. I mentioned in another post planning to get another 4K out of my rear tire, and I did. The problem is that this trip ended up being 5K, and that tire is as bald as a slice of baloney. My bike is off line for a lot of maintenance.

I also mentioned in another post riding back east this fall. But I couldn’t pass up smokin’ Amtrak deals, so it’s okay to put the bike on the bench for a while. I’ve gotten my riding jollies out for now.

My route was north through Taos to the Salida Valley in central Colorado, over Independence Pass, and then noodling through NW Colorado and N Utah to NE Nevada. Then north through Boise to Spokane, and back south zig-zagging through Idaho. I ended up at Mesa Falls ID (thanks Barry!), and then came home through Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Flaming Gorge, and the Million Dollar Highway through Silverton. Finally, across SW Colorado and by Ghost Ranch in N New Mexico.

The first day was a swell saunter up the low road to Taos along the Rio Grande. I didn’t take any pictures because I was antsy to be gone and its basically still just “home”. I planned to stop by Great Sand Dunes but the national parks seemed slammed, I’ve been there a few times already, there wasn’t much wild camping available for a ways, and (mostly) I saw a giant dust cloud over the park – it was gusty. But after I passed the park, I saw that it was actually a rain cloud blowing over the mountains all around the valley. Oh well.

I got misted (could feel the water but not see any on my windshield) popping over the pass into the Salida Valley to the north. This is one of my favorite places in Colorado, but I’ve only been in the winter. The “Collegiate Range” runs along the west: several 14K ft peaks named for Murcan universities. iOverlander found a campsite near Buena Vista, and the “vista” sure looked like rain. I think this is Mt Yale at 14196’.

It didn’t do much besides sprinkle, but the wind was fierce with gusts probably about 50mph, potentially enough blow my bike over. My tent did well except I left a roof vent open, sand blew in, filtered through the no-see-um netting, and douched me in a fine dust.

This campsite was on CO-375, an historic and scenic dirt road, at least the part near Buena Vista. How many dirt roads have tunnels through rock, much less five of them in just a quarter mile?

Don’t think it was an abandoned railroad because that, as well as the Arkansas River, were just beside this road.

[Nails]

After packing up, it was time for Independence Pass. I thought this sign was clear enough.

This was avalanche damage, looking uphill. That pile of trees had been removed from the highway.

Here’s the other side of the road, where the avalanche pushed over the road and creek, and up the opposite valley wall. (That’s another avalanche path to the left, running from this other side of the valley.) Helps explain why the road is closed in the winter.

At the top …

[Nails]

First, a stray photo coming off Independence Pass. (Too many photos in the preceding post.)

I needed to beat feet to meet my wife and daughter at a campground in NE Nevada, two days hence. So I blasted past Aspen (insane traffic, all Beautiful People in their Mercedes G-Wagens) and on through NW Colorado (I’ll be back) to Starvation Reservoir, a Utah park. Sweet digs with a private beach … and I sure needed a dip.

On the drive in, a red fox trotted along the white line. It was carrying some sort of food substance that looked like part of a hamburger. The campground had an osprey nest on an artificial platform – I saw one of them fishing that evening.

In the morning, I scooted west on Utah Route 35, which was an excellent ride.

Be skeert. Be very skeert.

[Nails]

And a good thing I boogied because my wife, Forever Late, would’ve missed our daughter’s graduation from a Civil Air Patrol training in Wendover, on the Utah/Nevada border. She’s the senior NCO on this cadet leadership team, on the right.

She reportedly made a good CMSgt. This fall, she’ll attend an all-expenses-paid vacation at a place called Parris Island, SC. Heard of it?

We planned to camp at Angel Lake, a USFS campground in the Humboldt Mtns near Wells, NV. The lake is a tarn, and the snowfield hasn't melted yet. It’s in a beautiful forest with more wildflowers than I’ve seen all the rest of this year. (Sorry, but I was rushed and didn’t take photos. And the road had steep drop-offs with no shoulder -- no turnouts.) But because of the heat wave, the campground was totally full. So when Deanna and Priya showed up we got a motel in Wells – we all needed a bath and swim. (During Priya’s training, the temp never got below 70 even at night. Lots of heat injuries.)

[Nails]

And then north to Boise through Owyhee country, including a splendid set of curves near the Wild Horse State Recreation Area. From Google Earth:

We met Barry, who tried to save me from myself but I ignored him. I almost made a wrong turn, and then went ahead and made it anyway. But Barry showed back up. He had ridden out to intercept me, tried to flag me down (I thought it was just a weirdo wave), and then turned around and caught me. So I managed to rendezvous after all, but way too late for our planned lunch. Forever Late, who started out ahead of me, also took a wrong turn; and they showed up a little while later. They managed a short tour through a warbird museum while Barry and I kept our killer dog at bay in the parking lot. (It was good to see his pristine bike – I had no idea mine was missing so many pieces!) Then we looked at a plane restoration/rebuild that he’s working on, and after a quick bite to eat we three headed further north. We camped at a hot spring on the South Fork of the Payette.

The next morning we headed north, Deanna and Priya (in the car) to grandma’s house in Cheney and me to a fancy hotel in Spokane. (Grandma has dementia, and she forgot that she likes me. So I wasn’t invited. That’s okay. Really, I’ll willingly make that sacrifice for The-Mother-In-Law.) Our routes took us along the Snake River near Hells Canyon and then across the Palouse plateau. (I used to have an Appaloosa horse.) It was stinkin’ hot – high 90’s at least. Deanna got to Spokane shortly afterward, and we had dinner with a friend (from Phoenix) who just happened to be doing field work nearby and was staying at the very same hotel that very same day. We all drank too much wine.

The next morning, Priya got sized up for some custom boots. (As a former firefighter, I know that you simply have to go to Spokane to get proper boots.) Then they went back to grandma’s and I continued my solo ride. I took a different, prettier route back to Lewiston, including a stretch of “old highway” with much funner curves than the new one. Bring back the wagon roads!!!

After more slogging through wicked-hot temperatures, I ended up at a swell campsite on the Lochsa River off US-12 in Idaho. Another welcomed dip in the river, to rinse off my indescribable pits.

Then I continued over Lolo Pass in the rain. About that back tire … it was now down to the wear bars. It got squirrely if I went more than posted speeds -- visions of high-side dancing through my head. Oh well.

Back in Utah, I met somebody going to a national BMW rally in Great Falls. Here on Lolo Pass, I saw every freekin’ Beemer rider on the West Coast, going to that same rally. There were hundreds just on Lolo Pass – thousands actually showed up at the rally. On the road, there were more Beemers than Harleys. Good Lord!

In Montana, I turned south and left all that behind. This gorgeous country followed the Bitterroots, then over Lost Trail Pass into the Salmon watershed and back into Idaho.

[Nails]

US-93 to ID-75 eventually comes down from the mountains into hot, arid country again.

And that brings me to the Sawtooths – the road climbed back up to the Payette. I was smashing into a lot of gigantic stoneflies.

[Nails]

I actually rode an 11-mile stretch of ID-75 near Stanley six times, first going through for breakfast. They had cell service, and I called Deanna, who commanded me to go right back to Sunbeam and head up Yankee Fork to look at the gold dredge. This 1000-ton beast dug up the stream channel using the dark conveyor affair on that huge block/tackle.

It sluiced the alluvium on-board, discharging the waste rock out the conveyor to the right (covered). This conveyor could swing back and forth.

The whole contraption proceeded upstream, digging a hole deep enough to float itself and puking spoil piles behind it.

The result was miles of stream channel that looks like this.

I retired from studying how streams form and maintain their channel. This is astonishing habitat destruction that ran far downstream below these workings. But I’ll get over it.

Even though the dredge needed only three operators, lots of people lived there. But nobody was home on this day.

Anyway, I went back (third time) on my way to Boise.

[Nails]

Against all odds and common sense, Barry let me stay at his house. It was very comfortable and great to visit with him and his lovely wife -- my only day off the bike. I drank all his beer.

Then back across Idaho. First, a freeway slog toward Twin Falls to 1000 Springs.

The water is spurting out from volcanic strata, aquifers that convey the water from miles away. That’s the Snake River again, which I crossed on the Perrine Bridge.

Then back to Stanley, this time from the south end of ID-75, providing a better look at the Sawtooths.

I had dinner in Stanley and then camped back up in Yankee Fork Canyon, marking my fourth time across this stretch of highway.

[Nails]

I came across where some idiot had tossed a cigarette.

But not really.

(Actually, I went back in the morning to catch this image, which I had seen earlier but didn’t photograph before it got too warm to see the steam. Thus, trips five and six.)

As Mark Twain said of Hawaii, there was a strong odor of sulfur and brimstone “not unpleasant to a sinful man.”

Anyway, much of that road looks like this. I could run it many more times without any ill effect, barring a viewgasm and navigation lapse.

[Nails]

Next, further northeast toward Mesa Falls. More arid country that happens to have a river (not very visible, behind the parking lot). A nesting pair of ospreys were working this reach.

In an otherwise flat, barren landscape, this swell slot canyon cropped up -- just a quarter mile long.

A detour to Craters of the Moon, but I’ve seen the lava tubes in Oregon and a few malpies (mal-pie-eese) in New Mexico. Going through a lot of photos, this is the best I can offer.

Rural Idaho has a weirdness all its own.

Anyway, here’s a view of the Tetons from the wrong side.

[Nails]

Which brings us to Mesa Falls.

That’s the Lower Falls near the campground. A larger one is just upstream.

Apologies for the strange light, but it was 6:30AM, I was on my way to Yellowstone, and I was sneaking in without paying.

[Nails]

Lots of water photos.

And geysers (where the tour-ons congregated):

And varmints.

(Cranky, these pups are HUGE. A good 1000 lbs more than those sissies at Zion.)

This was just a fly-by from the West entrance to the South one. Too many tourists – and I even waited for a Monday.

Then to the Tetons. This National Park merges with Yellowstone as the Smokies merge with the BRP. So I had about 100 miles of 45 MPH road, which was swell except for the caravans of RVs.

[cranky]

.. thanks for taking me along... Headed to Durango tomorrow, gonna
take the narrow gauge to Silverton... Then on to Montrose and meet
up with a bunch'a VROC'ers.. Vulcan Riders and Owners Club.. The
other side of Kawasaki...

They're like family and good fun is had!!! Then back thru Kanab, Tonopah
and Yosemite... er Jellystone.... GBG ... hafta make good use
of that $10 Sr card.... Hope to do some good rides around the
country in Montrose area.....

[Nails]

First off, there’s this swell lake.

With some nice hills behind it.

(If you don’t know already, a Google translate on “gran tetons” will convince you that these French trappers were desperate indeed.)

A U-shaped glacial valley (rivers make V-shaped ones).

[Nails]

And so, south to Green River. After the splendid mountains, this became gawdforesaken arid lands. In a featureless, barren stretch, I saw a vulture on a carcass, right on the white line to the left. As I zoomed by, the bird took off. It was really a golden eagle. About an hour later, I stopped at the Visitor’s Center in the town of Green River. This was behind it. (This exceeded the telephoto limits of my camera.)

There were four juveniles, two each from the last two year's broods.

I needed another shower and, taking the eagles as an omen, stayed in a cheap motel in Green River. It was pretty-much awful. But then, armed with a map from the Visitor’s Center, I headed for Flaming Gorge. It was just as boring as the last hundred miles had been.

But once in Utah, something interesting started to happen.

The landscape became a lot more colorful.

And the road got a lot more fun.

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The road went right up into the Uinta Mountains.

That ended with a curvaceous ride into Vernal, where I had to slog through the damn desert again. This was no more fun than when I went through here the other direction just a week earlier.

[Nails]

But this time I stopped at Dinosaur National Monument – and actually scored a campsite. This was near a feature called Split Mountain.

I just camped – didn’t check out the dinosaur fossils at all. Looked like rain, and I was ready to get back home.

A happy morning. (Picture-taking before waking up.)

And some awaker shots. The Green River.

Fremont petroglyphs and pictographs.

[Nails]

From there, I pounded all the way home. This started on CO-139, which I expected to be as dry and boring as SW Wyoming had been. Boy was I wrong.

This is Canyon Pintado (https://www.blm.gov/visit/canyon-pintad ... c-district, named for the pictographs not the colorful canyon). Well, actually that was just a bit north of these photos (in the background above), down in more arid lands.

CO-139 did throw me one curve -- a blind one with a cattle guard in the middle of it. With some weird braking, a lot of body english, and an excursion into the left lane, I avoided going over it in a big lean. The outside of the curve was a steep drop-off with no guardrail.

This was at a summit, and the road down was even better than the one up.

Suffering a bit of urban slobber getting over the I-70 corridor, I picked up US-550, the Million Dollar Highway. After those pissant foothills in Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming, it was nice to get back onto some real mountain roads.

I got rained on again, with that bald tire. And I was smelling the barn, so no more photos. It was good to see Durango, even though it’s gone to hell with too many people. The ride across SW Colorado to Pagosa Springs also was good to see again – I used to live up there,too. US-84 heads south into Chama, offering more great curves especially near Bronco Basin and Ghost Ranch (think Georgia O'Keefe). I made it all the way to Santa Fe before it really got dark (about 550 miles total yesterday).

I slept late this morning.

[Wormys_Dad]

Very nice pictures. Looks like a wonderful trip.

[Barry]

After those pissant foothills in Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming, it was nice to get back onto some real mountain roads.

I would normally be offended by this remark, but can easily overlook it since meeting you. Good sense of humor and a great report like this should inspire everyone to get out and enjoy riding their vxii's. Thanks for sharing this with everyone.