Crossing the Border - BBB 2009

[Olive]

In 2009 I took my first long distance solo motorcycle trip. This trip was notable for a number of reasons. It was the first time I had ever driven across the border, it was the first multi-day bike trip I had taken, it was the first time I had used a tent in over 20 years... and it was in my first year of riding.

While the trip was done on a BMW800S, I did meet up with some friends on VFRs, some of which are active members on this forum.

Day 1 - Dropping Something Heavy...

I was feeling rather pleased with myself getting out of town a day early, and was up quite late packing my bags.  Around 3am I went to bed, and was up with the sun at 6am, ready to get going.  Three hours of sleep is a little short, even for me – but I was ready to roll. After I attached all my gear to the bike I headed back inside and  doublechecked that I hadn’t missed anything.  Sure, if I had forgotten something I could easily purchase it in the States, but I was not planning a shopping trip.

I pulled the car up on the driveway to make the house look more inhabited, and got ready to pull out of town – pausing for a quick shot of the bike, and the all important photo of the starting odometer reading.

My first stop was for gas – one of those necessary evils.  I topped up the tank and headed south.  The main highway is not very exciting, but I was eager to get down to the border and be off on my grand adventure. Passing through Nanton these caught my attention…

Apparently Nanton has an Air Museum – but it was not open at the hour that I passed through.  I made a mental note that I would have to stop back to check it out at some point in time, but had to entertain myself with the equipment they had outside.

They also had a war monument to Bomber Pilots… something that was going to become a familiar sight on my trip through the states, as I passed many similar memorial sites.

In a sense the trip really started when I left my house, but in another it wasn’t real to me until I reached this point…

The lineup at the border was fairly short – only a few cars in front of me, but I took advantage of the lag time to pull out the camera and take a few photos.  I put the camera away and pulled up to the border guard, who asked for my passport, and my camera.  Oops?

Apparently there are homeland security issues surrounding photos taken at the border, and they really frown on cameras.  Given that there were no signs indicating that photos were verboten, I was glad that all I had to do was delete certain specified images from the memory card.  

Unfortunately before leaving town I had not converted any money to USD, so all I had with me was a $20 US, and some Canadian.  I also had two bank cards… but wasn’t carrying any credit cards … this proved to be a bit of a challenge on the trip.  I figured that it would not be a problem – all I had to do was find a bank machine… it should be simple. Right?  I resolved to pull over as soon as I spotted a bank machine.  

I turned off the main road and entered Glacier National Park.  My first stop was at the toll booth, where I discovered that cash was going to be king for the trip – they did not accept Interac (a system shared  by all Canadian Bank Cards, but apparently not nearly as prevalent in the US).  I was working on the assumption that I would need a parks pass given the number of parks that I was going to pass through .  I enquired if they accepted Canadian – and luckily they did.  However they did not have any change so the woman in the booth just waved me through and told me to pick it up at the next park.  Not too shabby – into the states and I hadn’t been able to spend any money yet.

A Tee Pee village greets visitors at the entrance to the park.

I stopped in the park for the first coffee of the morning and dropped a few emails to let people know that I was in the states.  I was hoping to surprise a few people by the fact that I had taken off a day early.  

Glacier National Park is a day ride from my house – I can easily run through the park and home in time for a late supper.  And it is a very gorgeous park – seems quite popular with motorcyclists as well.  I will have to go back down there again sometime.  There was a fair amount of traffic and a lot of construction.  On the main highway there was a number of locations where traffic was sharing a single lane, so I sat and admired the scenery until traffic was waved through to pick our way through the rough road that heralded paving would happen soon.

Many years ago I recalled hearing about Going to the Sun Highway – it was supposed to climb up the side of a mountain, winding along with spectacular drops to the side – and it did not fail to disappoint.  The first half of the highway was through the mountains – and along the side of the mountains and past lakes, the second half skirted through forests.  It was real – I had actually managed to embark on my first real motorcycle journey.

And I pulled out my camera for a couple of shots.  (Perhaps at this point I ought to start by apologizing to anyone who is attempting to view my reports on a dial up connection….).

While waiting for one of the construction zones to start feeding cars through, the flag lady was kind enough to take a photo of me on the bike.

There are a number of busses that run through the park for tourists – they are rather short and have a historical appeal to them.  The tour guide tells passengers about the park as they move from one pre-selected pull off to another.

In some places the road literally goes through a tunnel in the mountain.  

I did not take any photos of the forested section of the park, but exiting the park I stopped for gas, and checked my GPS trusty paper map and headed towards Kalispell.  As I passed through Kalispell I stopped at a bank machine to withdraw some cash.  

I headed through town, and realized as I exited the other side that I had obviously missed a turn off.  I traveled up the road a distance, found a good spot to pull a U-Turn and moved off the road.  When a decent break in traffic appeared, I smartly started turning, stalled the bike, tried to put my left foot down on the ground which was a lot lower than it ought to have been (dip in the road) and promptly dropped my bike on my left foot.  

Feeling more than a little embarrassed, I attempted to get up… at this point I realized two things… the first was that my foot was pinned by the bike… and the second was that I was not able to pick up the bike by myself.  The third realization came shortly thereafter… I realized that my foot was not thrilled with having the bike leaning on it… and it hurt.  My first throught was for the trip – certainly if I had broken bones or mashed my foot badly, the trip would be cancelled.  I briefly determined my options for getting the bike home (renting a trailer… and driving it), but figured that I had to figure out the extent of the damage first.

An oncoming car slowed down, and stopped.  I gestured wildly at the driver to get out of the car and get over to the bike.  He got out and stood there staring at me.  “Hi!  Would you do me a favour?”.  It took a little bit to convince him that picking up the bike would be useful… and he tried to argue with me.  “It’s heavy!”.  “Yes, it is… and it’s on my foot.  Why not get some help?”  I suggested.  I followed this up with typical Canadian politeness “Get your azz over here and pick this fooking bike up off of my foot NOW…  Please.”.  One lady was very excited and asked if anyone had called 9-1-1 yet.  I explained to her that there was no need.  After I had assembled a lifting crew, I asked them to please be careful of the bike… and assisted in the lift the best I could with my right leg – essentially doing a leg press.  I was quite thankful to pull my left foot out from under the bike.

I looked at my boots and the first thing that I noticed was that there was a rather deep puncture mark in the boot.  It did not look good – and racing through my head were many options for what the foot looked like inside the boot.  I decided that I was not going to stay where I was, thanked my lifting crew, assured them that I was fine, and hobbled back on top of the bike.  One of the bystanders tried to stabilize the bike from behind me – while I appreciated their gesture of help, I waved it off.  I got the bike into first gear, pulled around on the road and headed back towards town.  There was quite the traffic jam in both directions.  I’m sure my face was bright red.

Riding towards Kalispell again, I decided that I would pull off at the first opportunity… which happened to be a McDonalds.  It was a very strange feeling to be happy to see a McDonalds.  I carefully stopped the bike and got my feet down, brought down the kickstand, and hobbled into the restaurant.  I ordered a burger and asked for ice.  They were very helpful, and I headed for the nearest seat and checked out the damage.  I carefully removed the boot and noted with relief that I had not actually punctured the foot… although the toe did look a little larger than normal.  I hung around the restaurant for a while, and entertained myself with the Blackberry.  

I answered an email from Aussie asking how the trip was going with the comment that “Well, I just dropped something heavy on my foot, and stopped to ice it.”  He was fairly quick to email me back with a typical comment…. “Oh s*&t e… not the bike, right??????”… and my response was “Uhhhhh…. I would really like to be able to say that it wasn’t…”.  

You can see where the peg on the kickstand tried to enter my boot.  I am convinced that the SIDI’s made a huge difference to the injury - had I been wearing other footwear I may have been cancelling my trip.

After sitting with ice for a while, I decided that I was going to push forward and try to ride on it.  I determined that I was just going to head a short ways down the road to find a campsite and call it an early night.  As I checked out the map I got into a short conversation with a local who mentioned that there was a lot of construction on the west side of Flathead Lake, so I started with my first detour of the day, heading around the east side.  

I removed all of the insoles from the GIVI boot to make it larger and gingerly got my foot back into it.  This was my first accomplishment.  My second was to get back on the bike, and start riding.  I quickly figured out how to shift using the top of my foot – very awkward and anything but smooth… but it was quite evident to me that shifting using the front right hand side of the foot was a very poor idea.

As I rode around the lake I passed a few campsites, but wanted to push on a bit further.  I wound up at St. Ignatious, and was ready to call it a night.  There was a large sign heading into town advertising the campsite, but finding it was a completely different question.  I asked directions, took a nice long tour around the town and surrounding area, and came back for more directions.  Eventually I located the campsite – but I was the only person there.  It appeared that they were building a log house – presumably by the sign one that was going to become a hostel.  I parked my bike on the gravel, noted that the house on the property had a very large “PRIVATE!  Do not disturb” sign on the door, and sat on the picnic table for a while hoping that someone would come out.  Eventually I decided that I was just going to pitch a tent – which I did.  I took a short hobble around the site, there was a storage building, a half built log house/hostel and the private home.  Nothing resembling facilities.  

Eventually I crawled into the tent and spent a very restless night.  A good part of it was due to the discomfort of my foot, but I was also getting very cold.  I had left clothing on the bike, and I did not want to venture outside of the tent… so I crawled into my riding leathers for warmth.

Here is the route and distance traveled for the first day of the trip.

Click here for map

Total distance traveled the first day was around 600 km / 370 miles – a much shorter day than I had planned.

...stay tuned for part 2

[AussieinUSA]

Another epic story to be told, glad you're telling it here O. Gotta love the pics of the great white north in June.

[dude]

Great pics. Look forwrd to another of your adventures Olive :fing02: :fing02:

[tc rides]

Great read and pics.

[Guest]

Olive, you are ONE intrepid traveler! The pics are marvelous, great travelogue.

[timmythecop]

Olive, my wife really wants to meet you, so can you put the DC area on your next itinerary?

[Olive]

Olive, my wife really wants to meet you, so can you put the DC area on your next itinerary?

...your wife ??? Not sure if I ought to be offended or not... :blink:

[timmythecop]

It is understood that I admire your expeditions, but my wife is interested about your being alone and female exploits.

Of couse I wanna meet you, ........you do what I dream of. But I thought an added bonus of an actual wife digging your exploits was inticement enough to get you down here this year.........

[Guest]

This is CRAZY, Olive!! I feel giddy with anticipation just reading part one!! (Can a real man use the word 'giddy'?)

[Guest]

Olive, my wife really wants to meet you, so can you put the DC area on your next itinerary?

...your wife ??? Not sure if I ought to be offended or not... :blink:

ROFL!!

[Cogswell]

Olive - you totally ROCK. You have some really great adventures. I followed your other thread where you purchased your new VFR and rode it home. You seem to find a way to pack more in to one trip that I do in to a whole summer. I got a chuckle out of your "typical Canadian politeness . . . " no doubt the adrenaline was pumping and the passerby needed to understand the urgency of the situation. Thank goodness it wasn't more serious. I'm hoping that your next installment will tell us that you made it to Missoula and then West on Hwy 12 to Lewiston. That's a fabulous road that no rider should miss out on. Please keep these coming - they're very interesting reading. Thanks for sharing. It's getting me fired up to pack up the bike and take a trip. :biggrin:

[Switchblade]

Kept up the good work and hope your OK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Olive]

Part Two - Getting Some Air...

The second day of my trip started at the crack of dawn, and I was eager to get moving to find my morning cup of coffee.  Having ended the night in my leathers it didn’t take me long to get up and get moving.  I was still the only person around in the campground, and since there was nobody to pay and nowhere to leave money, I wound up getting that night’s camping for free.  Given the lack of facilities and the state of the campground, I did not feel too badly about this.

Sunrise

A short drive out of St Ignatius I was thinking of pulling over to don an extra layer (and hoping to combine with a photo stop – not being too thrilled with the idea of unnecessary stops given the foot which was still quite tender).

I entered a  construction zone – and not just any construction zone.  There was major road work underway.  As I drove through it I kept on expecting it to end at any time… but it kept on going… and going… and going….  I counted over 20 “Motorcycles use extreme caution” signs.  The better parts of the road were rough with a generous scattering of gravel.  The worst resembled something that had been carpet bombed and left to fall into disrepair.  The ruts and potholes were very deep and I had to trust that the bike could handle it -- very difficult to relax and let the bike find its own way in those conditions. Given the road surface I did not want to stop and attempt to park the bike to find the extra layer… so I just kept on driving carefully, stopping when flagmen indicated the necessity… but staying on the bike.

Up in Canada we do have road construction, but usually leave a quasi paved surface for cars and its only for a brief period. Not 20+ miles. Yes, you read that right. Over 20 miles of constrution on a road in such poor repair I found myself wishing for an unimproved forestry road (it would have been in better shape). Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have even wanted to take a car down that road. Had I realized in advance the conditions and how far the construction went I would have found a different route.  

I stopped in Missoula for my morning coffee, to warm up and to take a break after that construction zone.  It was also an opportunity to plan out my day – my foot was still sore and creating issues for riding, but it was something that I could handle as long as I didn’t stop too often.

The first photo stop of the day was a little before North Fork.  The heat was quite oppressive – much warmer than I am used to.  I was glad that I was wearing perforated leathers, and the cold of the night before was a distant memory.

After North Fork I found some more really nice curvy roads, and the bike was very spirited.  I was probably one of the slower vehicles on the road between Salmon and Challis because of road conditions – there was a sharp drop off the side of the road right beside my lane, and no guard rail, and I was still getting used to the idea that a sign that said “Speed Limit 35” did not actually mean 35km. The speedometer on the BMW was an analog dial marked exclusively in km/h, so there was no option to switch the bike over to imperial.  The road was in fairly good condition, however on the opposite side of the road there were mountains and scree slopes (slopes of loose rocks), and at times I had to evade rocks in my lane.  This was not a big problem initially as they were stationary and I saw them in plenty of time.

After riding the road for a while, I came around a sharp corner and saw a row of cars in the oncoming lane.  The first car obscured the lane and vehicles behind him, and much to my surprise a very large rock came flying out sideways from the second car, just as I was coming up on him.  There was not enough time to brake, so I looked straight ahead and tried to relax my grip.

I was hoping that the rock would pass between the wheels.  My luck was not that good. I caught the rock squarely on the front wheel with a sickening clonk and the bike leaped upwards like a spawning salmon.  The tire compressed, the shock compressed, and when it rebounded it launched me into a high uncontrolled wheelie with a clear view of the blue sky and clouds overhead... I honestly thought my trip was over -- and was expecting to make close acquaintance with the asphalt.  The bike was not in anything resembling control at this point in time, and it happened very quickly.

As my bike rocketed up I heard cars around me start hitting their brakes –- something that I doubt they would have done had they assumed I was stunting.  I remember thinking that this was a good thing, because I did not want to get run over after the crash… But I was still on the bike, and still able to take some action… so I straightened the wheel and bounced the landing really hard.  After touching down, the bike jumped into the air again, bouncing like a basketball after a high toss. The bike bounced down the road, and I tried to keep throttle consistant.  I am usually good at remaining calm during an emergency, and I felt a bit detached noting the entire experience… it probably was a lot faster than it felt, but the bike was in the air for an eternity.

As I was coming down for a landing I realized that the bike was still vertical -– and I had visions of a shredded tire, or a blow out, and running on the rim… but the bike kept on moving forward and I was able to regain control.  It was definitely a “brown pants” moment –- and I had the shakes. I realized after the fact that perhaps I ought to have given the bike a little more throttle to control the landing, but at the time more speed was the furthest thing from my mind. This was only my second wheelie of my life. The first was equally unplanned, and was air assisted on my first bike, a GS500F -- a bike best described as a lightweight kite. Unplanned wheelies are not my idea of a fun ride.

Since there was no good places to pull over, I continued down the road a short ways until I found a safe spot to pull over, get off the bike and get on with the business of having the shakes. A few cars passed me, and then a bunch of cruisers pulled over. “Hey man, are you OK? That looked wild!”. I assured them that neither myself nor the bike were no worse for the wear. It must have been pretty obvious to them that the launch was uncontrolled, else they wouldn’t have pulled over to check in with me. (Some days I wish I had a video camera running on the bike, this was one of them.)

I carried on through the curves and stopped for gas in Calais.  After I had filled the tank and was returning to the bike after paying, I noticed that gas running onto the ground from under the bike. My first thought was the rock... and the plastic gas tank on the BMW that runs under the seat curving over the rear wheel. Kneeling I checked it out, but the gas seemed to be routing down the overflow. The BMW has a plastic gas tank under the seat, and I checked it out carefully for any damage – but it looked OK.  So I opened up the gas cap to allow evaporation and waited until it stopped dribbling.  

I am so very accustomed to living in temperatures where you can fill the gas tank to the very top, and you do not have to worry about expansion… so I erred in basic physics and learned something new about the heat.

On the 73 past Challis I found a really cool Canyon that the road went through, and then passed through a section that looked like this.  The road was relatively straight, but the scenery more than made up for it.

PANORAMA Highway 93 Idaho near MacKay (20).jpg

A panorama of the mountains

I carried on and stopped for gas and another cold drink in Arco.  Really nice small town – I watched people on horses trot past the gas station, and had a number of curious residents asking me about the bike and my gear.

Something that really surprised me on my trip was how few bikers were actually wearing gear – a lot of them were not even bothering with a helmet.  I can not imagine riding without a helmet… it just seems that you are asking for real trouble.

Leaving Arco, I headed past Craters of the Moon, figuring that it was getting too dark to stop in the park, but enjoyed the scenery on the way past.  I went through Carey and down the 93/26, only to find out that it was barricaded for construction. Turning around (very careful of the U-turn this time) I returned to Carey… and enquired about camping.  No luck, so I headed back in the dark to Craters of the Moon and put up my tent by feel.  It was dark enough that I decided that I would pay for the site on the way out the next morning –- with the way my foot felt I did not feel like hiking up the hill and trying to locate where to pay in the dark.  And I didn’t think that the campers would appreciate hearing me riding around… So I put down my head for another night.  

Unlike most of my travels, I didn’t stop very often for photos. Stopping with the sore foot was a bit of a challenge, and it was easier to stay on the bike and keep moving. I was still shifting using the top of my foot, and not able to put weight on the front of my foot, although considered myself very fortunate that I was able to fit the swollen foot in my boots.

I would have to say that this was the most comfortable night that I had – the ground was relatively soft and even, and the temperature was decent.  After two nights of very little sleep I was ready for a bit of shut eye.

Click here for Map

I only traveled 680 km/425 miles the second day with very few photo stops.  I was fairly tired from a few nights of little sleep.  At this point in my trip I had traveled roughly 1280 km/795 miles.  Much slower riding than I had expected.

Stay tuned for part 3...

[MisterBill]

Wow! Great pictures and write-up. Hope your foot heals quickly and you have no more issues. If you ever vist Northern Kentucky, we can put you up for the night. I know how hard it is sleeping on the ground on those little, foam pads. Did you remember to pack some Alleve or other pain relief medecine? Have a safe ride.

Bill

[Olive]

The foot is a tale that continues through the ride. As for those little blue foam pads... the one I had packed with the bike was over 25 years old... and at least 24 years past it's best before date. It was very hard, and offered a lot less padding than a fresher one would have. I learned a few lessons on camping equipment during this trip - stay tuned as I share those lessons learned the old fashioned way.

[Knife]

You have an artistic eye and a way with words. Your spelling, grammar, and punctuation are superb, seemingly all lost arts these days. I look forward to every chapter. Be careful out there!

[rdguy]

There are a number of busses that run through the park for tourists – they are rather short and have a historical appeal to them.  The tour guide tells passengers about the park as they move from one pre-selected pull off to another.

Hi Olive,

Great report! Nasty looking boot puncture - we'll have to wait to see how that resolves itself.

Re: those busses in Cascades. They also have some in Yelowstone (want to guess which colour they are?). I saw a Ford badge on one in Cascades, and asked the driver about it. They were all refurbished by a team at Ford about ten years ago - 351 V8s, modern brakes, the works. Sounds like a fun project:

Wiki

Glenn

[AB-Oz]

looks like a great trip, thanks for sharing

[SwiftTech]

Great write up so far Olive, I can't wait to read more. Stories like these make me want to do some long trips my self, I better get planning.

[Olive]

Re: those busses in Cascades. They also have some in Yelowstone (want to guess which colour they are?). I saw a Ford badge on one in Cascades, and asked the driver about it. They were all refurbished by a team at Ford about ten years ago - 351 V8s, modern brakes, the works. Sounds like a fun project:

Wiki

I saw those same busses in Yellowstone when I was there this summer, however they were much more prevalent on Going to the Sun Highway.

[Sweeper]

I've been thinking you've been awfully quite lately. Enjoying the re-telling of your trip.

I still have the sign in my map pocket from my 600 mile day trip with Skuuter last fall. When I get around to riding, it makes me think to push farther and enjoy the adventure.

WWOD - What would Olive do?

[Cogswell]

Wow - that was one bad incident. Good that you kept your wits about you and stayed upright. I tensed up just reading it.

For emergencies or situations that come up after dark, I carry one of these in my tank bag

Headlamp

Very compact, long battery life and extremely bright in the dark. The bonus is it leaves both hands free. I also have one in the car and one in house for power outages. I think they were about $35 ea.

[Guest]

That was incredible! It would seem that every major ride you do has either a SEVERE near miss incident (this trip you NEARly MISSed that flying rock) or a SEVEREly significant road construction debacle! Im am definitely glad you live to tell the tale! In my mind I hear the melotone of a very WELL PAYED documentarian (no comment required, LOL), creating the atmosphere of a great escape! Just like all the rest of our VFR bretheren, Im ready for a roadtrip! Thanks Olive: looking forward to part III!

[Olive]

For emergencies or situations that come up after dark, I carry one of these in my tank bag

I picked up a cheap one at a dollar store for my 2010 trip - LCD lights, head band, works the same and is great for pitching camp in the rain.

[Olive]

That was incredible! It would seem that every major ride you do has either a SEVERE near miss incident (this trip you NEARly MISSed that flying rock) or a SEVEREly significant road construction debacle!

I seem to find more than my share of incidents, but remember that I put a lot of miles each year. In 2010, despite horrid bike weather I put just under 25,000 km on two wheels. Perhaps others find incidents as often but decide to keep them quiet.

As for the rock - it was a square hit. And probably the only way I could have hit it without damaging the bike (or the rider). The loud clunk I heard when I hit the rock was it compressing the tire and putting a dent in the rim. It's evident when the rim is off the bike sans tire, the inside of the rim bears witness in the form of a dent - but it doesn't impact tire/wheel balance so it's not a problem.