Sunday, August 31st, 2008
We awaken to heavily overcast skies and the news tells us to expect electrical and heavy thunderstorms. Doesn’t sound like a good time to enjoy the waterpark. We consider going back to Mammoth to re-capture some photos but are told there was snow in Yellowstone overnight and early morning. Hard to believe it was mid 80’s just yesterday but such is the nature of being in the mountains. I am growing more concerned about my rear tire and we consider our options and who may actually have a tire in stock rather than having to order one in and wait. It is also Labour Day weekend so unlikely that a motorcycle shop will be open until Tuesday. It was still looking pretty good when we left home and we originally thought we would change it in Denver and enjoy a couple of days visiting with family there. We decide to press on and proceed towards Rapid City, South Dakota. Close to the stupendous motorcycle rally at Sturgis, there is likely to be a plethora of bike shops. We fuel and say goodbye to Thermopolis – until ‘next time’.
We awaken to heavily overcast skies and the news tells us to expect electrical and heavy thunderstorms. Doesn’t sound like a good time to enjoy the waterpark. We consider going back to Mammoth to re-capture some photos but are told there was snow in Yellowstone overnight and early morning. Hard to believe it was mid 80’s just yesterday but such is the nature of being in the mountains. I am growing more concerned about my rear tire and we consider our options and who may actually have a tire in stock rather than having to order one in and wait. It is also Labour Day weekend so unlikely that a motorcycle shop will be open until Tuesday. It was still looking pretty good when we left home and we originally thought we would change it in Denver and enjoy a couple of days visiting with family there. We decide to press on and proceed towards Rapid City, South Dakota. Close to the stupendous motorcycle rally at Sturgis, there is likely to be a plethora of bike shops. We fuel and say goodbye to Thermopolis – until ‘next time’.
Heading east on Hwy 16 crossing Wyoming, abundant with rolling hills occasionally and sparsely 
dotted with hardy evergreens but many desert grasses and sagebrush. Brings to mind the old spaghetti westerns and ‘real’ cowboys crossing the range. This was the area and imagery that spawned the Oscar winning movie “Brokeback Mountain” conceived by Wyoming resident Annie Proulx who says she finds inspiration outside her doorstep daily
We ride into a neat little western town that goes by the name of “Ten Sleep” – population 304 and boasting the “Crazy Woman Café”, “Dirty Sally’s Soda Fountain and Gift Shop” and the “Emporium” with “More Odds than Ends”. Ten Sleep was an American Indian rest stop, so called because it was 10 days travel, or “10 sleeps”, (nights) from Fort Laramie in the southeast and Yellowstone Park in the northwest.
We enter the Big Horn National Forest with incredible limestone formations dating back 300-500 Million years rising thousands of feet in the air. Now the area following along Ten Sleep Creek which we cross and re-cross is verdant with greenery and beautiful trees and shrubs both evergreen and deciduous.
Located in north-central Wyoming, the Big Horn Mountains are a sister range of the Rocky Mountains. Situated half-way between Mt. Rushmore and Yellowstone National Park, no region in Wyoming is provided with a more diverse landscape -- from lush grasslands to alpine meadows, from crystal-clear lakes to glacial carved valleys, from rolling hills to sheer mountain walls.
We travel the “Cloud Peak Skyway” and enter the Powder River Pass”. Climbing to the summit with an elevation of 9666 ft the air chills considerably and we stop to add another jacket and heavier gloves. Crossing the summit we are into granite formations that date to the Cambrian period – over 3 BILLION years ago. Makes us mere mortals pretty insignificant doesn’t it?
About 10 miles beyond the summit you can smell the approaching rain, heavy in the air. We head into a pullout to don our rain gear. It is really starting to ‘get at it’ and looks like it intends to stay around for awhile. A group of fellow motorcycle enthusiasts pull in behind us to also ‘suit up’. Noting our flags one quips “Canadians, eh”? “My family is all Canadian, I’m the first to be born in the USA”. His buddy ribs him saying, “Yeah, but that doesn’t count – they’re from Quebec and that’s not really part of Canada”.
A number of them troop over to inspect our bikes. They are amazed that Rod’s is 25 years old and still going strong. I am again having a look at my back tire and note with growing dismay that the cord is highly visible showing through in long strips down the centre. We mention that we are trying to make Rapid City some 250 miles away. One of them looks horrified and says “If I were you I’d hole up in Buffalo and see what you can find there – it’s only another 30 miles”. I curse the Scottish blood that makes me use everything up to the last little bit and think back to the 4 days we spent in Calgary when we could easily have changed the tire out.
The cold finger of fear appears and tries to inch its way and take purchase in my heart. With a silent prayer for safe passage, I gently push it away and just concentrate on the road ahead. I tell Rod where on my bike he can find the living wills and the Power of Attorney we had drawn up the day before our departure. The last time we had done up our wills was the day before we got married in 1990. At that time Rod named his parents as executors, both of whom passed away some years ago. My parents were named as mine both of whom are also gone. It was well past time to take care of these things but human nature and denial is a powerful thing. Thank you Mike and Linda for “getting us in order”.
We fuel in Buffalo, population 3900. We are directed to a small shop for Harley repair called “The Twisted Piston” but the road is all dug up and closed with heavy equipment so we decide to press on to Gillette, a larger centre and another 75 miles to the east. At our reduced speed it has taken us 4 hours to travel 122 miles. Going to Gillette involves a freeway run but Rod says if we keep our speed down to 45-50 mph it will be less stressful on the tire. His mathematical brain does the calculations that at 45 mph I will be travelling at 70 ft per second. Just gobbeldy-gook to me – I have absolutely no idea what happens if a motorcycle tire blows out - all I know is “it can’t possibly be good”. My iPod is put away so I perhaps can hear the tiniest difference indicating the tire is getting worse. I can hear the zzzzzzzit, zzzzzzzzit, zzzzzzzzit as the exposed cord turns on the asphalt. Freeway speed is 75mph and we keep it below 50 – it’s hard – normally we would be travelling it at least 85-90 (or so…). I am counting down the miles as we go and stop at the halfway point to ‘have another look’. Now 20 miles, now 10 and I flash my left hand twice at Rod to let him know. I know that he would ride the bike for me in a heartbeat but it’s not an option – I couldn’t possibly manage that brute of his let alone even touch the ground. Now 5 miles and then blessedly the turn off to Gillette. I thank God for keeping me safe and also thank “Paladin”, trusty steed. We check into the Holiday Inn Express just before 7:00 where we receive a warm welcome, a great room and warm, fresh cookies. We tell them we may be here 2 or 3 days. Perhaps here I will find some of the “kick back” time I have been waiting for.
dotted with hardy evergreens but many desert grasses and sagebrush. Brings to mind the old spaghetti westerns and ‘real’ cowboys crossing the range. This was the area and imagery that spawned the Oscar winning movie “Brokeback Mountain” conceived by Wyoming resident Annie Proulx who says she finds inspiration outside her doorstep dailyWe ride into a neat little western town that goes by the name of “Ten Sleep” – population 304 and boasting the “Crazy Woman Café”, “Dirty Sally’s Soda Fountain and Gift Shop” and the “Emporium” with “More Odds than Ends”. Ten Sleep was an American Indian rest stop, so called because it was 10 days travel, or “10 sleeps”, (nights) from Fort Laramie in the southeast and Yellowstone Park in the northwest.
We enter the Big Horn National Forest with incredible limestone formations dating back 300-500 Million years rising thousands of feet in the air. Now the area following along Ten Sleep Creek which we cross and re-cross is verdant with greenery and beautiful trees and shrubs both evergreen and deciduous.
Located in north-central Wyoming, the Big Horn Mountains are a sister range of the Rocky Mountains. Situated half-way between Mt. Rushmore and Yellowstone National Park, no region in Wyoming is provided with a more diverse landscape -- from lush grasslands to alpine meadows, from crystal-clear lakes to glacial carved valleys, from rolling hills to sheer mountain walls.
We travel the “Cloud Peak Skyway” and enter the Powder River Pass”. Climbing to the summit with an elevation of 9666 ft the air chills considerably and we stop to add another jacket and heavier gloves. Crossing the summit we are into granite formations that date to the Cambrian period – over 3 BILLION years ago. Makes us mere mortals pretty insignificant doesn’t it?About 10 miles beyond the summit you can smell the approaching rain, heavy in the air. We head into a pullout to don our rain gear. It is really starting to ‘get at it’ and looks like it intends to stay around for awhile. A group of fellow motorcycle enthusiasts pull in behind us to also ‘suit up’. Noting our flags one quips “Canadians, eh”? “My family is all Canadian, I’m the first to be born in the USA”. His buddy ribs him saying, “Yeah, but that doesn’t count – they’re from Quebec and that’s not really part of Canada”.
A number of them troop over to inspect our bikes. They are amazed that Rod’s is 25 years old and still going strong. I am again having a look at my back tire and note with growing dismay that the cord is highly visible showing through in long strips down the centre. We mention that we are trying to make Rapid City some 250 miles away. One of them looks horrified and says “If I were you I’d hole up in Buffalo and see what you can find there – it’s only another 30 miles”. I curse the Scottish blood that makes me use everything up to the last little bit and think back to the 4 days we spent in Calgary when we could easily have changed the tire out.
The cold finger of fear appears and tries to inch its way and take purchase in my heart. With a silent prayer for safe passage, I gently push it away and just concentrate on the road ahead. I tell Rod where on my bike he can find the living wills and the Power of Attorney we had drawn up the day before our departure. The last time we had done up our wills was the day before we got married in 1990. At that time Rod named his parents as executors, both of whom passed away some years ago. My parents were named as mine both of whom are also gone. It was well past time to take care of these things but human nature and denial is a powerful thing. Thank you Mike and Linda for “getting us in order”.
We fuel in Buffalo, population 3900. We are directed to a small shop for Harley repair called “The Twisted Piston” but the road is all dug up and closed with heavy equipment so we decide to press on to Gillette, a larger centre and another 75 miles to the east. At our reduced speed it has taken us 4 hours to travel 122 miles. Going to Gillette involves a freeway run but Rod says if we keep our speed down to 45-50 mph it will be less stressful on the tire. His mathematical brain does the calculations that at 45 mph I will be travelling at 70 ft per second. Just gobbeldy-gook to me – I have absolutely no idea what happens if a motorcycle tire blows out - all I know is “it can’t possibly be good”. My iPod is put away so I perhaps can hear the tiniest difference indicating the tire is getting worse. I can hear the zzzzzzzit, zzzzzzzzit, zzzzzzzzit as the exposed cord turns on the asphalt. Freeway speed is 75mph and we keep it below 50 – it’s hard – normally we would be travelling it at least 85-90 (or so…). I am counting down the miles as we go and stop at the halfway point to ‘have another look’. Now 20 miles, now 10 and I flash my left hand twice at Rod to let him know. I know that he would ride the bike for me in a heartbeat but it’s not an option – I couldn’t possibly manage that brute of his let alone even touch the ground. Now 5 miles and then blessedly the turn off to Gillette. I thank God for keeping me safe and also thank “Paladin”, trusty steed. We check into the Holiday Inn Express just before 7:00 where we receive a warm welcome, a great room and warm, fresh cookies. We tell them we may be here 2 or 3 days. Perhaps here I will find some of the “kick back” time I have been waiting for. 
1 comment:
Oh my Gosh I hope you got that tire changed ok. I think this is another reason i never get away.
Thinking about your guys!! Be safe.
Hugs and kisses.
Robyn
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