Originally, Terri was to fly home out of Billings and leave me a 2-day ride home alone. I'd get to stop at Little Big Horn and take a side trip through Spearfish Canyon. I changed that plan when the snowstorm led to us renting a car for the Yellowstone leg of our trip. With 20' of snow over Beartooth Pass and Dunraven Pass also blocked, we had no way to get to Red Lodge. So we decided to double back to Jackson and let Terri fly home from there. It worked out perfectly for both of us. I got my adventure and Terri got two days alone without me :-)
We pulled into Jackson after the relatively short trip down valley from the Old Faithful area. Picked up the bike at the bed and breakfast, returned the rental and got a room. After asking the clerk, we got a recommendation to try the Blue Lion for dinner. Luckily we got a 5:30 seating and had a remarkable time. Live music in the waiting area, lots of terrific people having a great time and very unique food. All in a two story house that was very intimate. Wonderful evening. Best of all, it was two blocks from our hotel.
Next day was breakfast at the Wort Hotel, Silver Dollar Saloon. If you're into historic buildings (and I am) then this is the place to explore. Pictures of Jackson from the 1800's and original memorabilia including visitors. It seems Jackson was as rough and tumble as any other western town.
Then Terri to the airport. It's kind of funny pulling into the parking lot on the Harley. She took the T-Bag and helmet as her luggage and the bike was another 20lbs lighter. Now I was ready for my adventurous ride south from Jackson (Rte 189 to 191) through Pinedale to Rock Springs.
The country south of Jackson is absolutely amazing for motorcycles. Mountains, gorges, history, rivers, ghost towns (ok, there may be someone living in that trailer), and curvy roads. Pinedale is the home to Mountain Man museum. I'd love to follow the Snake River into Idaho but that's for another trip.
It was very near Pinedale that mountain men held a couple of their annual rendezvous. These very remote mountains are home to some of the best fishing, hunting, trapping, hiking and any other conceivable outdoor excursion you can think of. Even though it was before Memorial Day and the weather was crappy, the town was packed with pickups and 4-wheel drives towing trailers of mountain bikes, ATV's, camping equipment, etc.
Jackson's elevation is approx 6200'; Pinedale approx 7200' and Rock Springs 6300'. So the weather is unpredictable. It was sunny and 65 degrees when I left Jackson. Temps dropped rapidly. Rain (bad) started 15 minutes north of Pinedale. I decided to stop for lunch hoping to wait out the bad weather. You might say this was a mistake since it was snowing hard and accumulating when I got back on the bike an hour later. By the time I was five miles south of town I was in the most lonely, featureless and slippery area you can imagine. This is the main road from Rock Springs (I-80) to Jackson so the truck traffic was at 55-65 regardless of the weather. They didn't like it one bit that I was putzing along at 25-30 mph. It was very fun when they passed me. Once I got the hang of snow riding I punched up my speed to 40-45. The Ultra's low center of gravity, no T-Bag and no passenger helped the bikes stability. Hardest part was wind gusts. But with winds mostly out of the north (and on my tail), I began to enjoy the ride even though it was red knuckle all the way. Anyone who's done this knows how you have to absolutely concentrate on the task at hand. You cannot sight see or mind drift. With no break in concentration for over two hours, I pulled into Rock Springs as the sun came out and the temperature warmed to the 50's. What a relief (albeit temporary). All in all, I really enjoyed the ride! How often does one get to ride on the edge of disaster, alone, over 1,000 miles from home, with no cell phone coverage, and, literally, in the middle of nowhere (it even got better (worse) on my way to Rawlins).
So it was an adventure. My heated jacket liner and grips worked perfectly. But at 25 degrees, there's only so much a heated grip can do. So the finger tips got pretty cold. I'll think about heated gloves on the next winter trip.
So I gas up and drink coffee in Rock Springs. The weather clears and I'm thinking I'll make Laramie (200 interstate miles) tonight. NOT. 40 miles west of Rawlins I see a wall of black clouds climbing and getting closer. The wind picks up and I'm actually on the ragged edge of losing it as I crest a couple hills. By 10 miles west of Rawlins, with a good 1-1/2 hours of remaining daylight, I'm completely engulfed in dark. I'm fighting the cross winds constantly. (Riders will know what I mean when I say this is actually enjoyable. You really feel like you're "making it happen" when you have to constantly adjust everything with no relaxation. Using a Hunter S. Thompson free association it's like this: gust-countersteer-lean; prepare for next gust; approaching semi-pass now so no more danger-wait, that truck may pass the car in front-slow-yes it's pulling over in the passing lane right in front of you-dirty air-broadside wind gust-countersteer-lean; should I speed up and get past these vehicles or slow down; prepare to respond; what next? wind blast-truck dirty air-drop back-prepare again to pass; curve coming-what if i get a gust-will I get to that car before the gust-that curve is at the crest of that hill, what if I get a full broadside gust; look at those clouds-maybe I should speed up to get to Laramie-maybe I should stop at Rawlins, that weather looks bad; speed up, speed down, countersteer; truck approaching in passing lane/move far right/slow so they get past quickly/dirty air/wind gust/ will those antelope run into the road; etc. etc. )
Enjoyable as it was, I was getting too tired to make it to Laramie. So I stopped at a motel in Rawlins. 5 minutes after I'd locked the bike, unloaded and got the cover on, the proverbial shit hit the fan. One of the most violent storms high country storms brought 60 mph wind gusts, horizontal rain and 20 degree drop in temperature. I don't want to think about how riding through this storm if I was still on I-80 trying to get to Laramie. But it was warm and comfy in the motel room.
I laid down to watch some TV and woke up at 6am the next morning. Eleven hours of sleep. I felt great.
That's it for the trip. The next day was over 640 miles into Omaha. The weather was perfect: cool morning and into the 70's in the afternoon. I took my time with a leisurely breakfast in Laramie and lunch in North Platte. Safely home and glad to see Terri. What a wonderful trip.
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