Summer Tour BBB 2010 - Solo Tour of the West Coast and Beyond (Complete Trip Report)

[Olive]

Hwy 12 between Escanlante & Capitol Reef is nothing short of EPIC!:491::wub:

I agree - that road is absolutely incredible. I was extremely fortunate on this trip to ride some technically challenging roads with scenery that is absolutely breathtaking. The coastline. Utah. It is something that MUST be experienced.

[HispanicSlammer]

Steep grades and sharp curves next 4 miles

its so funny how we motorcyclist see what we want to see, taking photos of the same signs!

[Wheatie]

Spectacular photography !!!!! Suggest contacting some nature mags and seein' if they'll take a look and publish... Super stuff ! ! ! ! ! :cheerleader:

[Olive]

its so funny how we motorcyclist see what we want to see, taking photos of the same signs!

We are all looking for similar things in our riding experiences. Glad to see that we've shared some of the same roads! :fing02:

[vfrcapn]

Thanks for the great write up Olive and the wonderful pics. Very nice way to spend a couple hours over Sunday morning coffee reading and reliving your experience. :fing02:

[Solomoto]

Steep grades and sharp curves next 4 miles

its so funny how we motorcyclist see what we want to see, taking photos of the same signs!

I'll play too! Hogback Ridge....

[Dutchy]

No steep grades here in the Netherlands, but we go get wildlife...

Looking forward to your 2011 adventures Olive :beer:

[cruzinaz]

Looking forward to your 2011 adventures Olive :beer:

Theres still 2009 waiting to be posted :biggrin:

[Olive]

Looking forward to your 2011 adventures Olive :beer:

Theres still 2009 waiting to be posted :biggrin:

Mind if I finish 2010 first? :laughing6-hehe:

[Olive]

The ambient light in the tent began to brighten as the sun peeked over rock formations. Another day with promise of more great riding dawned. I moved everything to the front of my tent, and stuffed my sleeping bag back into its sack. Next was the sleeping pad – once flattened out it took little more room than a rolled newspaper. Both of these were stowed in the hardsided Givi so they would remain dry for the following night. Next I hauled the roll bag out of the tent, securely attaching it to the bike with the resident Bunji straps. Around the back I added one more small bunji as extra insurance. The last thing I wanted to experience on a trip was the loss of luggage.

Next, I took down the tent. The poles folded into a small light package, and the tent and fly stuffed into a sack also making a compact bundle which I secured on top of the roll bag with a bunji net. I had noticed the day before that the plastic tips on the hooks of the bunji net had come off, leaving sharp metallic hooks. Unfortunately one of them had made a small slit in the tent's sack, as well as a minor cut in the fly of the tent. I was not very happy about this, thinking myself careless for not having noticed the problem early enough to prevent damage. I recognized that I was very fortunate not to have shredded my tent in the process. I was taking extra care with the sharp ends of the hooks, ensuring that they were nowhere near anything they could damage.

This was becoming a daily ritual, packing the bike and ensuring that everything would remain secure. I remembered last year's adventure with a tank bag, when I had gotten distracted while returning to my bike. I had exchanged pleasantries with someone who felt compelled to comment about the bike and the fact it had Alberta plates, and had completely neglected to fasten the straps. It wasn't a problem leaving the parking lot. It wasn't a problem on the interstate on-ramp. It wasn't even a problem on the interstate – at least not until I was caught by a large gust of wind and the tank bag moved four inches to the right. Something like that only has to happen once to remind me of the importance of keeping everything securely strapped down.

After a final survey of my campsite, and a final check of my ride, I clipped the tank bag to the bike, retrieved my kickstand plate and got ready to ride.

Heading down the highway I found the Petroglyphs that I had been seeking the night before. There were two viewing stations at either end of a boardwalk, but if you spent a few minutes hunting you could spot others along the rock face. Art from those who had lived here hundreds of years in the past was all that remained – there weren't even graves to mark their passing. In some ways this was the graffiti of the past, but graffiti with purpose. Signs surmised that perhaps they were chiseled in stone by a shamen to ensure good hunting, or as an appeal for rain. The superstitious past – not really that different from us at all. We may not share the same superstitions, but we have created many of our own.

I took quite a few shots of the petroglyphs, and am reflecting them here. Perhaps image overkill, but it seems to be what people expect of me by now.

Along the cliffs life struggled in rocky crevices.

I continued to ride through Capitol Reef as the morning continued to brighten. My first stop of the day was in Hanksville for gas and breakfast. I stopped at a small diner called “Blondies”.

The small local places have a lot more character than chain restaurants. The parking lot was loose gravel, and once again the kickstand plate came into play. It was proving to have been a good investment. The diner was a cafeteria style restaurant. You paid up front, picked up your own food and found a table. The owner seemed to take an interest in the fact that I was a lone biker, and peppered me with questions and told me his own stories as he kept me supplied with fresh coffee. As we chatted, I took the opportunity to refold my map so that the highlighted route was easy to reference on the tank bag.

I continued to run up the 24. It was a pleasant road, but fairly straight and not as much to offer for scenery as Capitol Reef had. On a trip like mine I was apt to ride some roads like this to balance out the more challenging and scenic routes. The next turn-off was the I70/50. Signs weren't completely clear, and I took what I thought was the right turnoff.

It was the right turnoff if I wanted to visit the San Rafael Reef on an accidental detour.

As I headed along the highway I saw mileage signs that didn't seem to line up with what I thought should be shown. A creeping suspicion came to my mind that I was traveling west rather than east, but I didn't have time to study my map in the heavy traffic of the divided freeway. I reasoned that there was little I could do until I found a place to turn around regardless, so I continued to ride. A roadside turnout opened up for a view of the San Rafael Reef, and I stopped there for a chance to stretch my legs and consult my map. Sure enough, I was heading precisely where I thought I was... the opposite direction to what I had planned. It was a good opportunity for photos though!

There was little option but to continue to travel west, as the rest area I had stopped in was for westward traveling traffic only. I continued through the Reef, and onwards for quite some time until finally a turnoff presented itself. Once again I headed through the curves and steep inclines traversing the pass through the San Raphael Reef. A small consolation for having taken the interstate.

Signs advised trucks to slow down, told the tale of tight turns ahead, and quite a few brake test areas and run-offs were provided for the eighteen wheelers. On one section of the road that had a steep decent I noticed black smoke billowing from the rear tires of the semi that I was about to pass. I opted to get past the truck as quickly as possible, and left him far in the distance. I didn't need the excitement of finding out what had been smoking – brakes or tires, neither seemed a good potential on this road.

A short while later I passed the exit for the 24, and was once again on the right track for Moab. Another gas stop. They seemed to run into each other as an endless dance. But it certainly illustrated the distance that I was covering. Another turn down the 191 and the signs proclaimed that I was on the right track for Moab.

There are a few different touristy options near Moab. Arches. Dead Horse Point. Canyonlands. I stopped at a gas station for a quick top-up, as I had discovered that many of the parks didn't have any options for fuel. And quite a few didn't even have options for water. I refilled the pop bottle I was using as a water bottle.

Arches was my destination! It was still early enough in the day for me to take a trip through the park before I had to locate a campsite for the night. I paid my admission, and started up the steep slope with switchbacks that climbed up the cliff offering access to the park. It was relatively tight and larger vehicles were having some difficulty navigating it. Like many of the other roads I had encountered there were few guardrails. On a bike a guardrail would do me little good, but there is still something about the idea of having one there. The thought that there is something between my bike and a steep drop off. I've never had much interest in skydiving, or cliff rappelling and definitely didn't want to take either up with the bike.

As I continued up the switchbacks a large tour bus had some difficulty on the oncoming lane. He crossed into my lane, cutting the corner, and I tucked towards the outside, but not quite far enough. He clipped my mirror which folded in towards the bike. I swore, and concentrated on the throttle as I pulled up the hill. On the next straight section I glanced down. The tour bus continued to travel down the hill, and I continued to head up. There was little point in turning around and chasing him down. No harm was done to me or the bike, the mirror had folded in as it was supposed to. Although it had given me a real burst of adrenaline.

Arches unfolded in front of me. Miles and miles of road wound their way through some incredible rock formations. I had to share that road with tourists, but I was resigned to that eventuality. Here perhaps the best thing to do is to allow the camera to speak for me in description of the towering rock monoliths that rose skyward, shapes sculpted by the elements that had stood over time.

Balanced Rock is one of the classic images of Arches National Park, and seemed an appropriate place to start.

Proof that I was there

More iconic scenery - just incredible!

One of the famous windows. A few photos show people in relation to the rock, underlining just how massive it really is. Look how tiny the tourists are in relation to the rock monolith towering high above.

Another famous arch. A closer viewpoint was also available, but I really wasn't interested in a hike in the warm temperatures. As I pulled into the parking lot, I realized that there was a lot of wisdom in watching where you put your feet. I had stepped on a local critter that had taken off the instant he felt pressure on his back. This came very close to upsetting the bike, as I landed heavily on the just deployed kickstand while admiring the view of my boot as it headed skyward.

The road was full of gentle curves and incredible scenery.

Quite a few rock arches are found in the park. Here is the famous double-arch.

Signs around the park advise tourists to pay attention to their surroundings. Rocks and arches can collapse without warning, usually a creaking sound heralds the start of a new landscape – one that it is inadvisable to remain near as it forms.

A few short hikes were in order to gain a reasonable vantage for photos. Arches qualifies as desert, and temperatures were high. I was glad to have water with me, although it quickly reached temperatures appropriate for brewing tea.

Shadows began to lengthen giving a lot of drama to a section of wall-like stone known as Park Avenue. The colour of the rock in the shadows works well with the monochromatic sign in the foreground.

The sun hid behind the rocks very quickly. This was the scene a few minutes earlier.

Dramatic lighting set the mood.

As the sun was beginning to get low in the sky, it was time to leave Arches behind and continue into Moab for a quick bite to eat, and to locate a campsite for the night. Hmmm... I spotted some more arches... McDonalds value menu sufficed for a small burger and a cold drink. It had been a scorcher and a cool place to sit down for a few minutes was welcomed.

I drove around the town for a while after my dinner looking for a campsite. Quite a few were full, and I settled on an RV/tent park. The office was already closed by the time I got there, and there was no light on the graveled road except for my headlights. The sign pointing towards tent sites went down a very steep poorly lit graveled incline, but there were a lot of open RV sites, so I chose to park the bike on a paved pad and toss up the tent beside it. The pavement was flat and even and proved to be a good choice. There was nowhere to stake down the tiedowns for the tent, so I opted to sleep with the fly off in the warm Utah night.

[BonusVFR]

The whole Utah bike gig is fantastic. Your report makes me think I need a repeat engagement on the VFR...soon.

I spent a day in Arches a few years back and rode around in shorts and running shoes so I could hike in to the good ones and that was in May before it got hot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

I think this one has bit the dust recently.

[Olive]

I spent a day in Arches a few years back and rode around in shorts and running shoes so I could hike in to the good ones and that was in May before it got hot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

I think this one has bit the dust recently.

Great photo! I don't remember seeing that one - but I stayed mostly on the roads with a few short hikes. It really is odd to think of a rock-based landscape as being so changeable within a few short years, but evidently collapse happens occasionally, hence all the signs warning people about the dangers. Since it was July and I had full leathers and Sidis stopping to hike around wasn't a good option.

[BonusVFR]

I spent a day in Arches a few years back and rode around in shorts and running shoes so I could hike in to the good ones and that was in May before it got hot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

I think this one has bit the dust recently.

Great photo! I don't remember seeing that one - but I stayed mostly on the roads with a few short hikes. It really is odd to think of a rock-based landscape as being so changeable within a few short years, but evidently collapse happens occasionally, hence all the signs warning people about the dangers. Since it was July and I had full leathers and Sidis stopping to hike around wasn't a good option.

That is the dilemma really do you stop and really take it in or try to capture the flavor or the gist of it and move on to the next incredible landscape. There is no perfect answer ...maybe stop one or two days on a tour like yours and soak it in. Invariably I kick myself when I return. Either way somebody is going to ask you "Did you see that/whatever?" and of course the answer will be NO but you can not do it all even with an incredible tour like yours.

I stopped at Moab Mickey Ds Arches tooooooooo.

[Olive]

That is the dilemma really do you stop and really take it in or try to capture the flavor or the gist of it and move on to the next incredible landscape. There is no perfect answer ...maybe stop one or two days on a tour like yours and soak it in. Invariably I kick myself when I return. Either way somebody is going to ask you "Did you see that/whatever?" and of course the answer will be NO but you can not do it all even with an incredible tour like yours!

There are a lot of places that I would love to return to, but my time was limited to the number of hours of daylight, and constrained by the need to return to Calgary for my job. During my trip last year I had to slab it to make up time, and missed out on quite a bit doing so. The one great thing about a solo tour is that you don't have to worry about anyone else in terms of level of fatigue or timetable.

[Olive]

Morning dawned early. Once the bike was packed up I headed out for a quick bite for breakfast in Moab. The local pancake house. As per my usual, I requested a table with a view of a power plug. There were a few things I had with me that could not be charged off of the BMW powerlet. Actually, nothing that I had with me could be directly charged off of the powerlet. I had built an adapter so the powerlet ran into a three outlet 12V cigarette lighter setup which was adequate for things like my cell phone and recharging camera batteries. Two items that are almost vital for a trip like this.

After a small breakfast, I headed out and discovered a wonderful road leaving Moab, the 128. It passed through Castle Valley. A fancy name meaning an area rich with rock formations.

The road followed a meandering river, and cut through some tall cliffs. This meant that lots of curves were in the offering. The river seemed a little out of place given the desert environment of Arches only a few kilometers to the west. The landscape here still whispered of desert. Tall rocky cliffs, sparse vegetation and stone monuments rising eerily out of the ground in the distance. Each curve brought a new vista. Most were welcomed, although some were not. In a few places the road was covered with a thick ochre mud that had flowed off of the cliffs. Rather odd, given that there had not been any rain the night before. It was dense, sticky and as slippery as owl snot. I longed for the tar snakes of a few days previous, as those were a little more predictable.

Heading through the valley, I settled into a series of tight curves, with the occasional sweeper thrown in. Apart from the occasional mud slick, the road was in excellent repair, and seemingly not very popular with the RV crowd. Another definite positive in my books! A few cars went past the other direction, but apart from that I had the asphalt ribbon to myself. While there were quite a few good photo opportunities along the road, they were not paired up with good options for pulling the bike off of the road to pull out the camera. Given the number of curves and blind corners, I opted not to surprise a speeding car by acting as a speed bump at the other end of a corner, and just enjoyed the road and vistas for what they were.

The 128 emerged from the valley, crossed the river and the scenery abruptly changed into farm country. Sometimes it was a little disconcerting how quickly desert could give way to lush farms, almost as if I had switched channels on a television. The road linked onto another secondary highway, and then once again for a brief stint on the interstate. Unfortunately I was leaving the wonders of Utah behind as I headed towards Colorado. Another new state to add to my traveled territory map.

"Welcome to Colorful Colorado". I rode past another state line, although perhaps the sign ought to have been amended to read "Welcome to Colorful Wet Colorado".

I had stopped so often on the trip to gas up and grab a cup of coffee on this trip that it hardly seems worthwhile to mention the stops. I had developed a semi-regular pattern in where I stopped. Quite often I would just go to a McD's, as they seemed more tolerant of my attire, had the cheapest coffee around, as well as a free wifi connection. It served to be a very good way to minimize the trip budget.

Most of the time my Blackberry sufficed for emails, text messages and checking the web. But when it comes to things like google maps, a decent sized screen is almost a necessity. I was traveling with a friend's mini notebook - it fit nicely into my tank bag and was perfect for a trip like this. Not being familiar with Colorado, and the maps not providing many good clues to what the best northern route would be, I dropped a PM to Hispanic Slammer because I knew that this was his home turf, and he would probably have some really good suggestions. He nominated a route that headed up the 139 and then heading through Flaming Gorge. He even took the time to send me a google map of the routing - beautiful country and some great roads! (Thanks HS!)

After finishing off my coffee and transferring my route to my manual GPS, I repacked the bike and set out for the rest of the daily adventure.

Once again I had passed the intended turnoff and wound up in Grand Junction. It was a matter of a few minutes heading west on the interstate to hook up with the 139 and start my northerly journey.

Farm country gave way to ranches, some more free-range territory where cattle viewed the road as part of their territory. I was used to seeing this on sections of road closer to home and was mindful of surprise cow patties on the road.

The road climbed up through a series of switchbacks as I headed into more mountains and towards a building cloud bank. I stopped a few times on the road to take a few photos. The road provided a good ride, technical in spots with a lot of scenery. The familiar yellow “curves ahead” sign acted as the motorcyclist's endorsement for the road ahead. Although some of the scenery was a little wet as the skies opened up and the threatened rain became a reality.

The rain encouraged me to keep covers on my soft luggage and leave the camera in the dry. Not as many photos from this part of the ride.

I paused in the middle of the mountains for a quick break. While I was stopped by the roadside I saw movement. This animal was fairly small and low to the ground, my initial though was perhaps a large coyote. What the camera captured looks oddly deer like. Although the photo doesn't provide an idea of scale, he was too small to be a member of the Cervidae family (deer).

One thing that has really struck me about the mountains on this trip are how completely different they are from my own. I am used to the Rockies in Alberta. They are a very jagged range. On the territory that I had covered so far on this trip I had encountered quite a few different mountain ranges. They were the same in that they were rocky outcrops reaching for the sky, but that's where the similarities ended. A lot of mountain ranges were what I would have termed as foothills, but I'm not one to argue semantics. It served as a reminder that while everything was the same, everything was different. It seems that it is the small things that resonate on a slightly different frequency that remind you that you are far from home.

Emerging out of the mountain range I found a gas station and started to pass through another succession of small towns. Rangely. Dinosaur. And the oddities of the smaller places began to manifest themselves.

Coming into one town seemingly in the middle of nowhere there was a large field of dirt. In the middle of the field was a large fountain with a waterfall. A little unusual, but easily explained away. It struck me as odd that they had the fountain commissioned with water despite the fact that there was nothing else around, and the area was still a work in progress. But this didn't explain the flamingos. Pink flamingos. Obviously they had spent some quality time outdoors as they were sunfaded. Flamingos were perched everywhere around the fountain. Large ones. Small ones. Pink flamingos with legs that spun like pinwheels. It was odd.

Very odd.

Another oddity in the same town was the sidewalk. Rather than go through the trouble of taking down a tree and removing the stump, the sidewalk had obviously been poured around the trunk of the tree. A tree which was cut down, leaving just the stump. Or perhaps they had simply poured it around the stump. The sidewalk around the stump still had that "new" look to it. I idly wondered about the story behind the tree. Regardless, it was a very different approach to things. The lyrics of a Joni Mitchell song came to mind... They paved paradise and put in a parking lot.

Hmmm... maybe it was something in the water?

I continued riding. Back into Utah. They seem to have adopted a dinosaur as their mascot.

Stopping to consult my map, I decided that I would try to find a campground along the 191, perhaps even traveling as far as Flaming Gorge for the night. I traveled through Vernal and followed the 191. Roosevelt. Gusher. Ballard. Hmmm... those names on the sign didn't seem that familiar. But what really bothered me was the mileage posted for Salt Lake City. Heading north, I should really be heading away from it. I paused to search for them on my map. Not finding any of the indicated names, I took the opportunity to unfold my map and check... sure enough, I was on another detour. Well, crap. Perhaps next time I could pick a more interesting road to detour on - long, straight, divided highway with lots of traffic wasn't my first choice for a fun ride.

I traveled back along the 191, and into Vernal. A town that was beginning to look familiar, having passed through it not that long before. It took me a few passes through the town before I located the signpost for the 191 north. It was cleverly hidden, unlike the signs for the 191 south and explained why I had taken the unplanned detour.

As the sun was beginning to set, and the skies threatened rain to the north my day ended a little short of the planned distance in a campsite just outside of Vernal.

I usually tried to avoid the KOA style campgrounds, but given the hour decided it was a good idea to camp where I found a space. For me there is little appeal to a campground that has the tent sites divided by a wooden pole fence, and rows upon rows of RVs parked beside each other. Oddly enough I found that the KOA campgrounds were significantly more expensive. I much preferred cheaper campsites with trees, and some actual space between tent sites. The difference is character. But all I needed was a place to pitch the tent for the night, and this certainly would suffice.

Next installment - Flaming Gorge...

[Dutchy]

:laughing6-hehe:

[Olive]

Another morning dawned and I headed back to Vernal for breakfast. A town I was getting to know given the number of times I had cruised the main street. Although oddly it was difficult to find a place for breakfast. Lots of restaurants, but not catering to the pancake and coffee crowd. Flaming Gorge was a wilderness area, and I knew from experience that gas and food were hard to locate in the national parks.

Leaving Vernal, the foothills and mountains started rising at the side of the road almost immediately. Signs indicated that many different geological formations were displayed by the roadside, and were identified. It provided something new to read as I followed the curves into another mountainous run and into Ashley National Forest.

After a few hours Flaming Gorge opened up in front of me complete with a few photo opportunities.

Can anyone name this bird?

Give up?

Yes, I was fortunate enough to have found a full grown Osprey soaring high

As I was exiting the Flaming Gorge recreational area, the vistas once again opened to some marvelous cliffs and hills rising in the distance. Colours were muted, almost pastel shades as the haze of the weather softened the lines and the view unfolding in the distance.

I followed the 191 out of Utah and into Wyoming where it was rich with sweepers and gentle hills. Once again very different scenery from other areas of my trip.

The roads were relatively uneventful, fields and more fields. I stopped at the side of the road and dug up my Ipod.

There is an interesting story behind the Ipod. I got it from the friend who was taking care of my Parrots. She had volunteered to update my Ipod with her library of songs so I had more variety and was met with a blank look from me. “What Ipod?” She was more than a little surprised that I didn't have one, and donated her old Ipod to me. It had been replaced by her Iphone, and ever since had been sitting in a corner collecting dust. The price was right, so I added one more thing to my collection of electronics. However, the Ipod has quite the eclectic collection of music on it. That collection got even more eclectic when I added some of my own music to it. It now contains a wide variety ranging from classical to country, rock to metal, and a few things in between. The first ride I did with the Ipod was an interesting one, as it was set to shuffle when shaken, and every time the bike went over a bump my music changed. A trifle odd. Then I thought I had fixed the problem, only to discover that I had set it up to play one song on repeat... Did I mention it was a song that I wasn't particularly a fan of? After that I figured out how it worked we started to get along a little better.

Most of the time I ride with earplugs, but when I find myself on less interesting roads or feeling tired, the Ipod comes out. When I am really feeling tired, I put it on “shuffle” - and I am not talking about shuffling a genre or play list. I set it up on shuffle to select from the entire contents of the music library. This means that Josh Groban is followed up by Pat Benetar, then Kenny Chesney, some Pink Floyd, Simon and Garfunkel and then perhaps Mediaeval Baebes... Very eclectic. I find when I am tired it has the effect of recapturing my attention with each song switch – it doesn't get a chance to fade into the background and serves to keep me a little more alert.

I stopped for a coffee in another small town. Just another tiny little diner. I was the only customer in the restaurant, and it took a while for the coffee to arrive. I figured that they must have been making a fresh pot. How very wrong I was. The coffee came, and I did something unusual. I called back the waitress and requested a replacement. The coffee she had brought me was stone cold. Not even making an attempt at pretending to be warm. It had obviously been sitting for quite some time. She apologized that the previous shift must have turned off the burner. (I guess this diner had never heard of the merits of fresh coffee?) Next trip through I don't think that particular diner will be high on my list.

As I left the diner and turned on my bike, my dash started blinking error codes to catch my attention - and it did a really good job of that. I was already running with a warning light that was informing me that I was overdue for the next scheduled service (BMW is oh-so-kind at reminding of you of their service intervals... and you need their tech to reset the bike computer to turn off the warning light. It is a trifle annoying). But this error was something new. I was very relieved to discover that the bike was only complaining about the headlight being burned out. Whew. That's an easy thing to deal with. I still had a functioning high beam. I had briefly considered where the nearest BMW dealership was... and that was a frightening thought. Spare parts for the F800 certainly aren't as easy to come by as they are for a VFR.

The roads started to get a little more entertaining as I started approaching the Grand Tetons. That's where I found one of my favorites – construction! It was a fairly long construction zone, the road was muddy courtesy of the rain, and full of rocks. One way traffic with a flag man made for a lot of waiting on the road until I was waved through along with a group of cars. By the time I reached the end of the construction zone my bike was covered in mud, making it look more like adventure touring than the cleaner style which I prefer. The sun was getting low in the sky and starting to hide behind mountains when I pulled into the national park campground at Grand Tetons. Checking in I was told that the campground was full unless I was interested in a biker/hiker site. Sure! The one she found me even had a tiny pad in front just large enough to park my bike. And, as an added benefit was a lot cheaper than the regular drive in sites. I observed that the site was very small, it didn't even have a picnic table or fire pit, but I really didn't need those amenities. It suited my needs perfectly, and I pitched my tent for the night right beside my bike.

There were a few other bikers at the campsite, and a one of them stopped by for a chat. He was from New York and was traveling across the country in hope of finding work. He had put his furniture into storage in his parent's basement, and the rest of his worldly goods were strapped onto his bike. Now that's someone who is into a real adventure! He had no idea if he would find a job, he just set out west hoping to find an economy in better shape and a fresh start to his life. I wished him luck.

I crawled into the tent and turned off my flashlight, ready for the adventure that the next morning would bring.

[dr.toto]

Anxiously waiting!

[Guest]

a day without Olive's photo-adventures is almost like a day without sunshine.

i am enjoying your serial adventure and eagerly await the next episode. thank you for taking the time to entertain us, we appreciate it.

[Olive]

Ahh... morning. Time for Yellowstone! It was fairly close to the Grand Tetons, and a few hours of riding through forests would be the order for the morning. I got up and started folding up my tent. At this point I noticed that my site was a little larger than I had originally thought - there was a much nicer patch of soft grass where I could have pitched my tent, right beside the fire pit and picnic table that I had failed to observe the night before. Oh well. I had managed to orient the tent so that the tree roots didn't bother me inside the tent but I could have been a more comfortable distance away from the road. Maybe next time I should be a little more observant.

Starting up the bike I was greeted by the same flashing dash I had noticed the day before. As it had the day previous at the Cold Coffee Cafe, it did a very good job of gaining my attention. The bike had a few very important messages to communicate with me. First, was the urgent need to immediately get the bike to a BMW dealership. Alas, service was due. Needless to say I chose to ignore that notification. I could deal with it when I returned to town. The most important part of the service was the oil change (in my estimation), I make a regular habit of checking over the bike and checking those things that BMW thinks I am incapable of - brakes, that screws and fasteners are tight, fluid levels. About the only thing that I am not capable of doing on their service is attaching a computer to the bike to read error codes and reset the countdown until the next time I hand over hard earned cash to the service desk... errr, I mean, the countdown until the next time service is due.

The other urgent message the bike had presented me with the day before was a little more troubling. But I was astonished that the bike actually had a sensor in place to report the fault. My headlight was burnt out. This meant that I had no daylight running lights, and no headlights at night, except, of course, for my High Beam. (The first thing I tested upon realizing I was fresh out of headlight).

A bit of research had shown that the bulb type was fairly standard (a real surprise for BMW), but the dance in replacing it was not so standard. It appeared to involve removing side fairings, and messing around with a clip that the BMW forum reported was very, very fragile. At least judging from the experiences of the many people on the BMW board who had attempted to replace the headlight themselves only to end up snapping the fragile wire clip. I decided that I would pick up a replacement bulb at the next open autoparts store I passed. I had all the tools to replace it, and decided to replace it on the road only if the weather and conditions were optimal – unless the highbeam became an issue, or if a night time run was going to be called for. Otherwise it was not going to be a large issue until I got home.

Even though I was already acquainted with reasons, the blinking alerts on the dash were a trifle unnerving as I started the bike and waited for them to quiet down.

I set off planning to eat breakfast somewhere in the vicinity of the park. Even though I had camped in the Grand Teatons the previous night, the “official” gateway for Grand Teaton National Park was a short distance up the road. It was time to pay the toll. $20 for a motorbike. $25 for a car. Ouch! That was the most expensive park admission I had found all trip. The good news was that admission was good for both Grand Teatons and Yellowstone. Passing over my cash I got the customary receipt taped to a map, which I carefully stowed in my map pouch aware that I would need to show the receipt to get into Yellowstone without paying a second admission fee.

The run through Grand Teton National Park didn't do much for me. Trees. Trees. And more trees. Forests have never inspired me in quite the same way as mountains, rock formations or oceans. I paused at the side of the road and dug up my Ipod yet again. I hit “shuffle” on the entire contents of the Ipod and once again was reminded that I would need to cull a few songs out of the library, such as the Christmas tunes that it kept on digging up to my absolute disgust. The Ipod was getting a lot more use on this leg of the trip than it had seen on the Coast or through Utah.

Signs indicated that Yellowstone wasn't far ahead, and I continued riding. At this point in the day I still hadn't even found a morning coffee. No small towns were on the highway and I didn't want to divert from my planned goal. I figured that I would be able to stop somewhere before reaching Yellowstone for a bite to eat. I was wrong.

Welcome to Yellowstone! I presented my receipt from Grand Teatons, was handed a map of Yellowstone and was waved through the gates. My next goal for the day was to find a campground so I would have a place to stay overnight. I remembered discovering on last year's trip that the campgrounds in Yellowstone filled up quickly, and didn't want to revist the remote campground at the end of the forestry service road where I had stayed the previous year. I had nothing against that campground, but really do not enjoy riding the 800 down those types of roads.

I rode. And rode. And rode. I passed a few signs advertising facilities (food and gas), and signs welcoming tourists to pull off the road and experience the wonders of the park. I even saw signs for hotels. But I had my own personal hotel strapped on the back of the bike, and figured it would be a lot more cost effective to find a parking spot conducive to using it, so I continued to ride. Right past the turnoff for Old Faithful. I hoped that I would be able to return to check that out, as it seemed to be the highlight of Yellowstone whenever the park was mentioned in popular culture.

Finally I found a campground in an area called Madison that wasn't signed as “full”. I paid my fees, rode the bike in and set up the tent. I also unpacked my luggage so I didn't have to lug everything with me for the day. I always feel uncomfortable leaving things sitting like a tent or luggage without being there, but threw a padlock on the tent to discourage visitors. If someone wanted in it would be easy enough to circumvent, but it made me feel better that I had done something however minor to secure my belongings. But really, who would want my sleeping bag? Or a pair of leggings? Or a t-shirt? I figured that it was reasonably safe to leave them with the tent.

Having completed that chore, I checked for the nearest gas station... West Yellowstone. The first detour of the day was to head out the west exit of the park to fill up the tank that was getting a little emptier than I felt comfortable with. I might have been able to make it back to a gas station at Old Faithful, but didn't want the added drama that would be engendered if I ran out of gas. I also grabbed a coffee and quick bite since it had been my first opportunity to stop for the day.

Heading back into Yellowstone I noticed a number of cars pulled to the side of the road and people milling around with cameras. That's usually a good sign of a wildlife sighting. A mother and young – and not just any mother and young. They were Moose. Given the placement of tourists and trees I couldn't get a clear shot of Mom, but I did get this one of the youngest Moose that I had ever seen.

I headed onwards into the park, and turned past the campground heading back the way I had initially came. There were a lot of things to check out in Yellowstone, and I couldn't see all of them from the road. I pulled off in an area marked as the Paint Pots, and went for a short hike with the camera.

Here a small geyser is blowing off steam and water. The patterns changed as the wind affected the spray. This is one of the random geysers in the park that do not erupt on a predictable schedule.

The Paintpots

Water bubbling up from the earth's crust forms colourful pools. Given the reported temperature and chemical components I doubt you would want to go wading in these, no matter how welcoming they look.

A fumerole

Some do not look welcoming at all – this is one of the mud pots. Splashing mud can be seen at the rim, but the feature appears to have collapsed underground.

There is something about standing there in front of these chemical pools. It almost feels as if you are an observer of a much younger earth, one being formed by massive tectonic and geothermal forces. Bubbling ponds making a chemical soup and reshaping the landscape almost seem to take on an ethereal quality – it almost seems unreal. Yet the feeling of being connected with something larger much like the ocean and rock formations of Utah persisted. I was a spectator, but also part of what was unfolding in front of me. Even with my poor sense of smell I caught the acrid scent of sulphur bubbling up from deep underground. It was a moment where it was just nature and myself. I wanted to spend some time alone with my discovery, but Yellowstone was a crowd magnet and the jostling crowds wouldn't leave me alone for long.

I headed onwards to a tourist magnet, Old Faithful. The parking lots were huge, and completely packed with cars. I opted to pull into a space beside some other bikes and share their space. I changed my boots and went for another hike. It was a warm day, especially in the leathers, but I didn't have any way to lock them on the bike and didn't feel comfortable just leaving them sitting.

Inside a large resort hotel I found a sign advising the next eruption of Old Faithful, an event that happens approximately every ninety minutes. Despite the regularity predictions for Old Faithful and a few other significant geysers are called in to the hotels on a regular basis for the benefit of tourists. The prediction was supposed to be plus/minus ten minutes. I had enough time to take a short facility break, and then headed outside to join the crowds on the boardwalk. Since I still had a bit of time I walked around the boardwalk to see if there was a better vantage point with fewer people. A short distance up the path I found something that suited my needs and settled in to wait. But I didn't have to wait long. Old Faithful was smoking and releasing steam..

A few preliminary splashes of water heralded the big event.

Old Faithful wasn't as large or impressive as I had expected. I had read so much hype about it in my life that the reality failed to live up to my expectations. But it was something that I needed to experience for myself.

After the geyser eruption, I continued along the circular path to look at some of the other pools and geysers in the area. Most of the other small geysers were not active – and unlike Old Faithful, there was no predictions on when they would next give vent to water and steam.

Some of the geothermal activity was evident in small pools bubbling up from the fragile earth's crust, such as this one called Chinese Spring. (Much like Utah, every feature was given a name so that tourists could check off that they had indeed seen the Chinese Spring while they were in Yellowstone. Almost like a boyscout collecting badges).

A pool a few steps away – very different in shape, colour and form. No two features are alike, yet they are clustered very close to one another.

The Beehive

While I was in the area the Beehive spouted, but at the time I was changing batteries in the camera and missed the opportunity for the shot.

The geysers and pools drained into small streams that cut through the area. Discoloration of the rock from the runoff was very striking.

I took my time hiking around the area, and just before I left I saw another eruption, but from a different vantage point. Here you can see some of the crowds on the boardwalk - the crowds I spent most of my visit at Yellowstone trying to avoid.

In many areas the ground in Yellowstone is very fragile and tourists are cautioned against straying off of the boardwalks. The Yellowstone Caldera is considered to be the largest super volcano on the continent. The Yellowstone volcano has erupted several times in the last two million years, and is still considered to be an active volcano. Reading about that on park signboards makes one question if visiting Yellowstone is a good idea.

There is a lot of activity in Yellowstone – pools and geothermal, fumaroles features are abundant. Apparently half of the world's geothermal features are located within Yellowstone and are fueled by this active volcano. Domes are constantly rising and falling in the park and numerous earthquakes a year are measured, although the majority of them are low enough magnitude to be virtually undetectable to people. The area is monitored closely by the US Geological Survey, which pays special attention to swarms or groups of earthquakes that occasionally happen at the park. This past January over 250 earthquakes were detected within a two day period, so it remains a very active area.

Enough of the geological lecture, and back to the road. I decided that I had enough time in the day to follow the south loop to take a look around the park.

Yellowstone Lake

The roads were full of tourists and traffic. A definite drawback of the area for me.

A little further along the road more signs of seismic activity.

This is a Sulphur caldron. The photo doesn't convey the activity that is evident as it is constantly bubbling like a pot on simmer. But in many ways Yellowstone is a volcano that is constantly on simmer, just waiting for the right combination of circumstances to cause it to boil right over yet again.

I stopped in Canyon Village for dinner. Or I tried to. All of the park restaurants were run by the same group and were either buffet or cafeteria style. There was no way to ascertain if the prepared food was allergy safe, so I opted for dinner of champions. A bag of chips and a can of pop.

As dusk was quickly approaching, I decided to head back to the campsite. Along the way a lot of wildlife was out near the roads. Herds of Buffalo. Deer. Some were even on the roads like this fellow.

Next on the agenda was a construction zone, another single lane that was shared by traffic traveling in both directions. As I was waiting for my turn to ride through the flag lady walked up to me and informed me that I needed to be really careful as she had seen quite a few bikes go down that day. Hmmm... How inspiring. And it wasn't as if I had any options – to turn back and go around the loop the opposite direction would be a two and a half to three hour detour. I smiled and thanked her for the advice, and asked her to let the car behind me know that as well. She looked a little puzzled at first, but then clued in to the fact that I really didn't want to serve as a speed bump.

Finally it was my turn to head through the construction zone. I followed the cars ahead of me to a hill. A very muddy steep hill that curved around a rock face. It was fresh mud as well, as a small waterfall was literally feeding right onto the roadway. I stopped at the bottom and waited for the cars ahead of me to clear the hill. I wanted a clear run at it because I knew that the minute I hit the brakes I would join the statistics of biker down. Once it was clear I gave myself a good run at the hill and felt the bike slewing a bit in the mud. I just kept on going, and made it to the top of the hill. I noticed that the vehicle behind me was being very polite and was giving me all sorts of room. I guess the driver had paid attention to the flag lady's message. The rest of the construction zone was reasonably flat and much easier to ride. Once again both my leathers and my bike were covered in fresh muck, almost as if I had gone exploring the paint pots.

About fifteen minutes later I got back to my campsite, and parked the bike for the night. The campers from the next site over came over to say hello and retrieve their children who were expressing a little too much interest in the bike. The woman commented that she recognized me from the Paint Pots earlier in the day. Yes, the distinctive yellow leathers had given me away.

Another sunset, but very different from the ones of the coastline.

The campground offered special programs at night, and once I had cleaned myself up I headed over to the Ampitheatre for a discussion on Astronomy. The talk ended late in the evening, and since the pathway I had followed into the ampitheatre was pitch dark, I decided to walk back along the road. This proved to be a poor choice as it was too dark to read signs. Most people who had come to the Ampitheatre had driven over, so I was a lone walker. I headed along the road for a while, and decided to turn back, realizing that I had obviously made a wrong turn. Sure enough, hiking back I found a sign indicating that I was on the main park road and that the turnoff for the campground was another 500 yards. It made for a long evening walk lit only by a small flashlight. Eventually I found the entrance to the campground and my tent where I settled in for another evening.

[dr.toto]

Great update.

[Olive]

Waking up in Yellowstone, I considered my options for the day. I was only a day's riding away from home, and didn't have to rush. I decided to see if I could get a campsite for the next night as well so I could explore the other half of the park. I headed up to the ranger station and found out that the campground was full for the next night. They were kind enough to check on other campgrounds in the park, and those were also reporting full. I realized how fortunate I was the previous night to have found a site. Back to the tent for the daily ritual of packing everything back up onto the bike. Maybe I wasn't going to explore Yellowstone further that day. I headed out of the west park entrance to West Yellowstone for a bite to eat and to decide on a plan for the day.

Remember the Buffalo on the road from last night? His cousin was my breakfast.

I sat dawdling over my coffee studying the map and decided to take the scenic route home, looping through Montana and Idaho instead of spending more time at Yellowstone. I didn't especially want to run through the friendly Indian reservation I had encountered the previous year in Montana. That was on the last day of my trip when I was really pushing to make it home. I remembered riding through a blustery, windy and rainy Montana, and riding through flat boring territory that had little to recommend it. Even the road surface wasn't in good repair. When I had finally found a small town, it was clear that everyone passing through was the wrong colour. White was not welcomed, and the feeling was so strong that you could almost taste it in the air. It didn't seem to be related to the type of vehicle either – cars, Rvs and motorbikes were treated with the same air of disdain. It was rather odd, especially since it was clear that the businesses in the town made their revenues off of travelers passing through. What had struck me the most on that trip was having prepaid cash at a gas station and having been scammed out of my change. That had left a bad impression with me, and I really had no desire to return. Besides, there were a lot of new roads to explore, that seemed to be calling me.

I headed out of the area at first following the same roads as the previous trip. And just like the previous year, as soon as I got about twenty minutes away from Yellowstone the skies opened up. Time to don the rain gear and put covers on the soft luggage. Most of the day riding through Montana was accompanied by rain and wind. It seemed to be a constant for riding in that state. Either that or my timing for Montana is really bad in terms of choosing weather.

When it is raining the camera tends to stay hidden and dry in the tank bag, but I think that I posted enough photos of the Yellowstone area to have earned a light day for posting photos.

Quite a few of the roadside gas stops had sculptures out on the road to attract visitors. Personally an overgrown brown and white cow has never done a lot for me, nor does it signify an exciting gas stop... but it's all part of the story. Someone paid a lot of money to have this sculpture created and placed at the corner of their property. I find some of these sculptures to be amusing.

As I headed through Montana dusk began to fall and I saw deer at the side of the road. Not just one or two deer but lots of them. Every mile or two I saw one more. They were partly hidden at the edge of the forest, but my senses seemed honed to catch sight of them. I gave up counting at 30 and focused on finding a place to stop for the night before the deer started dancing with my bike, a very real possibility given the proximity of the tree line to the road.

Swan Lake. A small center with a bar, a convenience store, a few houses and a campground. The convenience store was quaint, and the name "Swan Lake Trading Post" seemed to suit it. Behind it there was a small private campground. Perfect for my needs. I pulled in and got a site for the night.

As I was setting up my tent I met a biker from Germany. A mountain biker. Stephane. He had started riding in Mexico, was on a tour of the states, and his endpoint was to be Canada on a multi-month ride. He was trying to find as many off-road trails as possible to ride – part of his adventure. His story was that he was an avid blogger, and had a website in Germany with a wide following. His readers were funding the majority of his trip through donations. He even had his bike donated. Previous years he had taken his mountain bike on trips through other parts of the world, but it was time for a North American adventure. He told me that when he wasn't out on four or five month adventures he spent his time as a computer programmer. Stephane built a fire and we sat in the developing dusk, swatting mosquitoes and sharing stories of our journeys. Despite the fact I had been on the road and camping for weeks, this was my first campfire of the trip.

When I camp, I don't take a lot of clutter along with me. I don't bother to carry along a camp kitchen or materials for building a fire. I find food along the way on my trip, and I know that a restaurant or grocery store will be just a few miles down the road. At times it means that mealtimes are a bit random, but that has never bothered me.

My tent pitched at the side of a small pond. It had been a nice enough night that I hadn't bothered putting up the fly. It isn't quite sleeping under the open skies, but at least I don't have to contend with hordes of hungry mosquitoes regarding me as a tasty gourmet meal.

On the whole I had been very happy with this tent for the trip. It was spacious enough for me and all of my gear. If I would have been sharing it with another person, the gear would have had to weather the night under the fly, which extends the front of the tent by a few extra feet. When packed away the tent was light and didn't take up a lot of space, and was fairly quick to put up and take down. Three lightweight tent poles, and a variety of snaps and clips. Most of the time I only put in two tent pegs to stake down the fly. Nice and simple, the way I prefer it.

The next morning free coffee was available in the trading post, so I waited for 8:30 when they opened to start off my day. Stephane was inside updating his blog. If anyone reads German, his site can be found here (bookmarked to the page of his trip where I encountered him).

[Guest]

Great Update. Thanks for sharing!

[spud786]

Very Nice write up, I bet that electric vest will be the first item on the Packing list next time :goofy: . I got alot of enjoyment out of your pictures.

[Guest]

Thanks Olive; now im current! As usual, this is like watching a good documentary on PBS!