Northward bound

[Nails]

Seems like forever since my XII took me on a trip ... but now I'm planning for a loop from Santa Fe to Missoula at the end of this month. I didn't want to start this thread so soon, but here's this evening's news straight from my planned route. This vid is of US-89 heading into Yellowstone (northwest entrance), exactly where I planned to ride. I've wanted to check this road out ever since Barry recommended it last year.

https://www.9news.com/video/news/nation ... a84c7e46ac

It's like: Come on. I spent my whole career being nice to rivers. (Often permitting these kinds of repairs.)

Hopefully, I'll be able to get to the lodge room I already reserved by another entrance -- I'll check when it gets closer. But it looks like US-89 will have to remain on my bucket list for now. They ain't fixing this anytime soon.

[cranky]

... nice place for a road... sorry for you, think that will take >a year...
Stayed in Red Lodge couple years ago, finally got to take 212 thru
Montana, nice lonely road!!!

[Nails]

Yeah, Yellowstone ain't happening. My reservation is at Roosevelt Lodge, which is cut off from the N entrance (getting all the media buzz), but also from the NE entrance (part of that road is washed out, too), and also from the south (Canyon Junction in the park). There's a very slim chance they'll clear that mudslide toward Canyon Junction, but "Roosevelt areas might not reopen for the rest of the year, the Billings Gazette reported, citing a news release from park officials".

Looks like I'll get to check out part US-212. And then noodle down through Cody and into Colorado. Rocky Mtn NP also had some storm damage near the Grand Lake entrance, which was exactly where I was planning to spend my next night.

One thing's for sure, this wasn't just some pissant trickle of a shower.

[Nails]

This is a late entry, written a few days ago:

I left home at 9AM on 6/23, heading north out of Santa Fe. The weather was perfect: luke-cool. We recently had a lot of rain (monsoons), but the morning was a splendid mix of: deep red and orange rocks (especially near Ghost Ranch); achingly vibrant greens (just after the rains temporarily ended a major drought), especially in the cottonwood bosque along the Rio Grande and later the Chama River; and dazzling white clouds in a stunning blue sky.

My route went through the mud hills north of Santa Fe and past “Georgia O’Keefe Country” into the Chama Valley, where the high-elevation air developed a bite. Then along the edge of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and past the Blanco Basin where Dan Fogelberg lived. (When I lived up there, we boarded his elderly ponies over one winter.)

Pagosa Springs was a tourist quagmire, but they have a few local breweries. I got delayed.

Going across southern Colorado heading west, I got caught in a heinous thunderstorm . This was the first real test of my mesh jacket liner, and it didn’t work AT ALL: soaked from my neck to my crotch. But it was 70F, and I have a rain jacket I can use next time.

I didn’t start taking photos yet because this is all basically “home”.

Almost to Utah, I passed a sign pointing to the Delores Canyon Overlook. Only 4, so I gave it a try. Ended up being 10 miles of unpaved road, about half in hard clay with ruts from when it was last wet. If I had known it was 10 miles out I would’ve passed. But it ended up being worth the ride.

Now I’m in a cheap motel in Dove Creek, along with a crew of oilfield trash (been here a week on a “4-day job”), a crew of water-well drillers (been here three weeks on god-knows-what), and a crew of lumberjacks (working where I just rode, along that dirt road with signs that said “no logging trucks” but definitely had logging trucks). Maybe this is a Hotel Colorado and none of us can ever leave.

So, just 325 miles today. But with just a little effort, I was able to do it all in 9 hours.

My XII is sure running sweet. I found a major vacuum leak that had been developing even when I met Barry last year. The caps for the interior two ports for synching the carbs had slowly rotted into major leaks. All I can say is that it sure runs better now, especially at slow speeds.

Tomorrow, I have a blistering ride to Moab – 80 miles!

[Nails]

Another late entry:

Leaving Dove Creek at 7, and with a little more effort, I was able to make it to Moab by the late afternoon. First off, here’s why they call Utah the Beehive State.

I buzzed out to the southern part of Canyonlands NP. I’ve been here before in an International Scout or a Toyota 4X4 pickup; and the road-bound XII just wasn’t going to support a proper exploration. But the ride in and out was fun and doubled the day’s mileage.

It went right by Newspaper Rock.

[Nails]

Another late entry ... starting with something I meant to have at the end of my last post, but this website wouldn't let me add that many photos to a single post.

Leaving Canyonlands, I rode out from under a thunderstorm catching only welcomed sprinkles.

I got to Moab early enough to buzz out to Fisher Towers via Castle Valley along the Colorado River.

In Moab, I stayed at a hostel, my first in a lo-ong time. Mostly young-uns, but some other old farts. I went into town with a Swiss couple just come from Peru (heading to Africa next) and a South Korean chef, also very young and just opening his second restaurant in Washington state.

[Nails]

Early the next morning, I pushed my carcass out to explore Moab: Dead Horse Point, Canyonlands, Arches. These involved a lot of hiking along the top of major cliffs. I had a headache, was all tanglefoot, and with a disturbing tendency toward vertigo -- the damn young-uns left me with a wicked hangover!

First up, Dead Horse Point State Park. The Colorado River:

Taking this hike was challenging, hung-over. (But I wasn’t so bad that I had to hold onto the grass just to lean against the ground.)

[Nails]

One photo too many for the last post:

I came on this weirdness which turned out to be a wedding. They also had an alter on the edge of a cliff, but requested it not be photographed. (Forward thinking of deniability in this age of temporary marriages.) Remember, it’s 8AM!

[Nails]

Then I zipped around to the northern part of Canyonlands near the confluence of the Colorado and Green Rivers (but you can’t really see much of either one). The NPS marked a nice hike out a narrow neck to the extreme point. Plenty of exposure here.

The sun was pounding where my hat should’ve been (the one I left in the hostel); and I didn’t bring enough water. But the scenery was awesome.

This looks down on the White Rim Trail (around that large bench of white rock). This is my primary inspiration for a d/s touring bike I’m putting together. It requires enough gas and water for the 75 mile trail, plus some 60 miles of road getting there and back (from Moab), and at least one overnight camp. A bucket list item.

Getting to these two parks involved a lot of sweet curvy roads. But there wasn’t much of a shoulder, and I wasn’t much into stopping for pictures by then. So you’ll just have to take my word for it.

[Nails]

On my way back to the hostel, I slipped into Arches. This park is so slammed that they have timed-entry, and mine was for 1PM. The line at the gate was an hour long – the place is loved to death. (I remember visits 30 years ago, when you didn’t even need reservations to camp, and when you could get photos that aren’t crawling with tourists.)

So this is just a fly-by in the harsh afternoon light. I didn’t have the energy to do it right.

These characters are named “The Judges”. They let me know I was guilty: done and dusted!

So I went back to the brewery (two glasses of water and one of beer). And then to the hostel for a nap to absorb the other three quarts of water I had just poured down my gullet.

[Nails]

Early the next morning I took off on a 750 mile ride to Missoula. INGL, it was brutal. But the early start got me through the worst of the Utah desert before noon: the temps were in the high 60s to 80s the whole day. I was in shorts and t-shirt under mesh, which works great for me in the desert.

I rode up through Price, UT. I hate this town from a bad experience decades ago. But actually they have some community-based doings that look interesting: developed off-road and MTB trails; parks about dinosaur bones (quarries with the highest concentration in the world), geology; and other stuff. Maybe worth a second look since the guy the sheriff and I were dealing with is probably dead by now anyway.

Then up the Salt Lake City urban madness, across SE Idaho, and into Montana.

I had a bike issue, though: my new front tire. It had a weird course vibration that keep my speed limited to 70MPH, which sucked on these freeways that were posted 80MPH. I’ll bitch about that in the thread I already started about this tire.

Just before 10PM (and just as it was getting dark), I met Deanna at her motel. She had her own brutal day, showing up just 15 minutes after me. Sorry, but I didn’t stop for any photos.

So now I’m in Missoula for a week. Today will be low-key recovery, hoping I don’t start showing COVID. I really don’t want to ride all the way home with that. But Deanna gets out of school at 5PM, and it doesn’t get dark until 9:30. We’re planning some evening trips. Tonight, it looks like a big dinner at a local brewery.

And that brings me up to this morning, after that swell dinner with about 20 folks Deanna is training with.

My plan was to score a reservation for Going to the Sun Hwy. They make 500 or so available at 8AM the day before you want to go. At 7:59 this morning, these reservations were not yet available. At 8:00, the site had too much traffic to work. By 8:04, after several attempts to break through the internet traffic:

Of course, there are no more available dates until tomorrow at 8AM.

So I'll try again tomorrow. But I might not make it to Glacier this trip.

[Bonnie and Clyde]

Enjoying this report. Glacier is worth seeing if you can make it.

[Nails]

Glacier is worth seeing if you can make it.

Not this time. Going to the Sun Road currently is closed for most of its middle half: gate just a few miles past Lake McDonald ... with all 500+ of today's pass-holders concentrated down there. I never made it to the U-shaped valleys in the mtns.

A bust, especially after all the web drama getting a pass. (Never mind that I almost didn't get past the entrance gate at all, just because gmail quit working on my phone.)

There's a possibility Deanna will be back in Missoula in August; so I'll ride back up and try again. Else it's still on my bucket list. (I should've done this trip when it first came up about 35 years ago.)

Back to now, I'm headed south tomorrow morning. Have a reservation in Cody.

[Nails]

The next morning I was one of the Internet winners, scoring a reservation for Going to the Sun Road. But as mentioned, it was an empty victory: the road was mostly closed. I suspect this was due to the rapid snowmelt destabilizing the whole snowpack, creating an avalanche hazard.

I rode from Missoula up the east side of Flathead Lake (which seemed like an ocean – miles across) into the park.

Montanans generally have been very friendly and helpful; but I’ve noticed a spiteful streak in some, such as speeding up in passing opportunities just to make things difficult. I had to put up with some of this dickishness on the ride up.

Glacier NP is very low-tech … and so am I. Gmail quit playing nice with my phone, and I only got my reservation the day before (couldn’t print it). So I couldn’t produce the QR code for them to scan. All I had was my reservation number that I copied from my laptop – this was good enough to get into Arches. Glacier also had a multi-step screening process where volunteers checked whether the tourists had their pass. I got sent to a second set of volunteers who told me that I wouldn’t be allowed into the park. After a little banter, they let me try with the actual gate ranger. She smiled and said she had no way to check but would take my word for it – I’m in!

But then I only got 17 miles into the park before the locked and manned gate. This view across McDonald Lake was as close to the mountains as I would get. I guess I can see a couple U-shaped valleys (the kind created by glaciers, as opposed to V-shaped valleys that rivers make).

With the spring melt, these dense forests exploded in green. To tell the truth, it reminded me of lush Eastern forests.

[Nails]

I was at or very close to the peak spring runoff. These meltwaters have a milky “colloidal” color associated with being trapped beneath the snowpack before they can drain away. These waters go anaerobic and slightly acidic from rotting vegetation, and then they dissolve metals and stuff out of the soil. When they make it to the river, it gives this milky color, usually pale green like this. (As opposed to stormwater runoff, which is muddy.)

If I had more time I could’ve driven up the west side of the park, maybe into Waterton. Instead I turned around and left the park, driving around it to the south. This was a swell road along the Flathead River. Then south through buffalo plains and back to Missoula. MT-200 also had nice curves, coming into Missoula from the NE.

After her class, Deanna took a 7 mile hike and got back to the motel just before me, at 7:30PM. Then she took me to a very nice French restaurant a half-block away. Neither of us could walk much further than that.

[Nails]

The next morning I took off for Cody, where I stayed at a nice little apartment in someone’s back yard. Along the way, in the little Montana town of Wilsall, I was falling asleep at the wheel. I stopped at a bar for a hamburger. Inside, I saw this sign on the wall: “In dog beers, I’ve only had one."

The Rockies up here are a little strange in that they jut right out of the grasslands with no foothills. Here’s a snapshot from Montana.

And another from Wyoming, much the same.

I rode along the Yellowstone River, which was still near flood. I crossed two damaged bridges, temporarily repaired. The south (upstream) end of Red Lodge was thrashed with big freekin’ rocks that the Rock River (I did not make that up) had slammed into buildings.

In Cody, I had some trouble finding the cabin, but that was because I was stupid from dehydration and buffalo plains. Fortunately, a microbrewery was just a few blocks down the street.

After a swell night’s sleep I fixed a door latch and headed to Colorado on a twisty route through Thermopolis, Riverton, and Encampment.

The road unexpectedly went right up the Wind River Gorge -- nice, but not really very curvaceous. (The railroad curved more than the road did.) At the top, more buffalo plains; but Boysen Reservoir seemed to go on forever.

There were historical markers every few miles throughout Montana and Wyoming. I rather arbitrarily stopped at this one, which had several signs about the Oregon Trail and Pony Express. Rather than take a picture of the signs, you can read about it here https://www.wyohistory.org/encyclopedia/split-rock and here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Split_Rock_(Wyoming). You’re on your own for Oregon Trail, Pony Express, and Buffalo Bill Cody history.

[Nails]

I had a reservation in Grand Lake, Colorado. This was another hostel; and I shared a room with three Continental Divide Trail through-hikers. They were walking separately and just in for a shower, beer, and pizza. It was a rather fru-fru establishment with a Steinway grand piano (that one of my roommates played quite well) and similar toys. Despite a lot of people and pine floors, quiet hours were strictly observed. I slept well.

Early in the morning, I headed to the SW gate to the park just a couple miles away. By 8AM it was already 60F – I expected the 40s. I had another timed-entry pass for 4PM (the earliest available when I made the reservation), but a little bird told me that if I showed up before 9 they wouldn’t check. In fact, there wasn’t anyone in the booth at all. I’m in! (Again)

I passed mongo acres of burned forest all the way through Colorado. The fires extended into the park. This photo was just a hundred feet from the gate.

From this side, the Trail Ridge Road was in a broad valley of old beaver ponds – very marshy.

Further up, the stream had a better-defined channel.

The park wasn’t crowded yet. I saw deers, elks, meese, and even a Bighorn. Well, a juvenile wanna-be.

(My camera was in a saddlebag, and the others got away before I could get it out.)

These are the Never Summer Mountains … but I think a bit of summer has been sneaking in.

[Nails]

There was a lot of meltwater and not much snow left. A patch of glass ice (sheet flow on the road from the day before, then frozen that night) covered about 20 feet, but fortunately in the other lane. Let’s just say that I took it easy in the morning.

(But I’m pleased to report that my earworm was Joe Walsh, not John Denver.)

Here are the Never Summer Mountains again from a little ways up the hill.

Here’s a snapshot near the summit, well above timberline. (Looks like I caught a little of the nearby road on the lower right edge.)

And another snapshot. (I really should’ve shot the tundra, which was in bloom.)

At 12183ft, I doubt that my XII has ever been so high. It definitely had performance issues up there, but minor. (Not saying it’s a problem; just saying it’s carbureted.) The Old Fall River Road was just opened, but with all the snowmelt I decided against a steep dirt road back to the top.

My pass was good for the Bear Lake Road, but they were checking times by then. I couldn’t wait until 4 because I promised friends I’d get to their house for dinner – I’d have to leave the park by 4. Actually, I was getting bummed by all the crowds. So I left.

I had some time to kill, and going through the edge of Boulder I was wondering what to do. Let’s see … there’s hardly any place on the planet with a higher density of quality microbreweries. ("In dog beers ….")

So I had a super home-style dinner -- well, Gloria is Chinese. And she keeps a very comfortable house. It was swell to visit with her and her old man, Dan. They’re journalists and into mountain bikes, skiing, climbing (rock and ice) ... ah, to be young and fit again. (Dan just got a Husky 501.)

Then I rode home today through a half-dozen little rain squalls, each of which almost soaked through my mesh before I popped back into the blazing sun. I bet I’ll sleep well tonight, too.

[Late entry: I just tested negative. But I'm going back to being a hermit for a while. But my front tire is just as hoppy as when I left. Aargh.]

[Bonnie and Clyde]