Chapter 2

​
Day 14: Monday 26th June - Jasper AB to Pincher Creek AB (599kms = 375 miles)

"Due South"

Another 'Dakar' day, and I'm still not out of Canada just yet!

I left Jasper in good time, stopping only to find a local shop that sold GoPro spares (I'd cracked the lens of my Session - presumably having it mounted low by the front wheel while riding the fast gravel roads with Alan on the Friday), one place who fortunately had just the parts I required - result!

There is a reason why they say the Icefields Parkway is one of those 'must-ride' destinations in Canada (if not the whole world) - the views from the highway are breathtaking, and photos really can't do some of the vistas justice, although I'll include a few here to try and illustrate what I mean:


photo. Early on, a view from hwy 93A, that loops around to rejoin the main road (full of motorhomes) near the Athabasca Falls (car park full)...


photo. After a few miles, the traffic thins out to a natural level, and there are plenty of opportunities to stop at the roadside for photographs.


photo. This rather caught me by suprise - Jasper NP has its own glass skywalk too!


photo. That is a frikkin' long way down!


photo. I glimpsed this view initially as I rode past, so turned around and scrambled down a bank to get this particular shot!


photo. The same snow-layered peak from a little further south - the glacial lakes here are turquoise blue.


photo. Leaving the park en route for Banff.

Today would turn out to be very much a day of two halves... I'd already ridden nearly 300kms by the time I rolled into Banff mid-afternoon, and have to say, felt a little flustered, crabby and tired, so wolfed down a restorative sandwich and a coffee in a cafe on main street while I plotted the second part of my marathon day...

A quick tap on the GPS showed a dirt-road alternative to my proposed route south, and sure enough, on the outskirts of Canmore I was able to pick up the delightful Smith Dorrien Trail - a fast and sweeping gravel road that skirts the Spray Lakes Reservoir, to ultimately join up with Alberta Route 40, which is made up of a series of gravel roads and sections of backcountry paved highways, that run the entire length of the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains.


photo. I feared I might get soaked again towards the southern end of Spray Lakes, but fortunately the road turned away from the weather front and joined a paved section of Route 40... marvellous!


photo. Highwood Pass would be the highest elevation I would reach today.


photo. The sheep though, they don't care...


photo. It wasn't long before I was back on the gravel, heading south on 'highway' 940 - a delightful dirt road (also part of Route 40) which sweeps though forests and mountains for the best part of 120 kilometres...

I eventually hit a main highway (hwy 3, at Coleman/Crowsnest Pass) for the final leg into Pincher Creek which offered a number of motels, one of which I most certainly needed - and elected to bed down in the affordable Parkway Motel which included a free breakfast. I was so tired I don't think I even made use of their free wifi that evening!

More soon... I'm going to be back in the US(S)A tomorrow!

Toot toot for now!

Jenny x

Day 15: Tuesday 27th June - Pincher Creek AB to Choteau MT (215 miles)

"Home on the ranges"

There may be no such thing as a free lunch, but the free breakfast at the Parkway Motel in Pincher Creek was more than acceptable - decent dispenser coffee, orange juice that wasn't watered-down, and two toasted bagels with marmalade - nice!


photo. hitting the road early, to cross the US boarder in good time...


photo. I can recommend this crossing - there were only two cars ahead of me, and cheery customs staff too!

Within 20 miles of crossing into Montana, I was on my first trail of the day:


photo. looking towards Glacier National Park from St. Mary Ridge Road - a faint grassy two-track that runs parallel with hwy 89 below...


photo. These guys came wandering over as I undid another wire gate (there would be a lot of these gates in Montana I would soon come to realise).

My plan was to ride the 'gold' road "Going-to-the-Sun" through the Glacier National Park, then head back east again on scenic hwy 2 a little further south... however, on arriving at the park entrance station, I was fortunately informed (before I'd paid my $80 to purchase an annual Parks pass) that the road was only open for about 13 miles - there was still 10 miles of snow to clear in the middle. I really didn't fancy riding up to a turn-around point behind a parade of RVs, so scrubbed that one from the list, sought solace in an ice-cream parlour in St. Mary, and plotted a new plan of attack...

I had the Butler Motorcycle Map of Montana with me, and while they have yet to produce a dedicated 'BDR' route for this particular State, at least some main dirt roads are highlighted, and which fundamentally are through-routes too of course. Heading south (and slightly east) down 89 would see me on another section of their recommended 'gold' roads south of Kiowa, and a quick zoom in on the GPS showed a network of unsurfaced roads that cut diagonally south and east - exactly in the direction I wanted to be going!

Initially I picked what looked like a through-route (in the GPS) off hwy 89, although after a succession of wire gates, the 'road' such as it was ended with no warning in a bush-lined river, and with no sign of a bridge (the remains of or otherwise), I had no choice but to retrace my tracks and rejoin the highway to Kiowa.


photo. Turning around in the long grass, my wheel hit a rock, and over I went!

This ultimately meant I got to ride the first part of hwy 49 out of Kiowa of course, and although short, it is exceptionally sweet - and definitely worthy of it's 'gold' status...


photo. Soon up in the hills again on an old mining trail...


photo. View from the top (back towards Glacier National Park) - this would make a cool camping spot too!

The trail then continued east on as series of ATV sized two-track - wonderful! - and all the while still being routed by my GPS.

At one point, the trail I was on crossed another (in the GPS), but honestly, it was barely on the ground at all - still, I picked my way across the pasture with the GPS zoomed right in, and sure enough, it led to a more major gravel road that would cross hwy 2, before disappearing again into the long grass pasture as I headed towards Heart Butte. It was an excellent example of how using a GPS (with the right maps of course) can pay dividends!


photo. So maybe this is where Manson's old bus ended up - abandoned at a ranch in the middle of Montana...


photo. Seriously, that's an 'unsurfaced road' in Garmin's City Navigator maps!


photo. Just west of Heart Butte is a delightful trail that winds though rolling hills, past lakes and meadows...


photo. stopping for an early dinner at Buffalo Joe's in Dupuyer.

Already Montana was throwing up far more gems that I'd perhaps expected! Initially I'd planned to simply ride south through the State in just a couple of days, heading towards Yellowstone National Park, and then take the Beartooth Highway that crosses between Wyoming and Montana as part of my onward journey east... but if today had proved anything already, it was that all this wilderness trailage was way too good to pass up!

Over dinner I hatched a new plan - I decided I'd forfeit the undoubtedly tourist hell that is Yellowstone (if I'm honest, while it might have been nice to see what the fuss is about, at the same time, there are a bazillion photos of Old Faithful, and I fear I'd just be part of a procession of tourists lumbering though the park and crowding every view point - and for me, it's always been about finding a view less seen, less visited...) and instead plotted a far more elaborate dirt route - taking in as many of the unsurfaced roads and trails on my map in an effort to create a sort of 'Trans-Montana Trail' or BDR through route as it were... especially since my only real commitment was not for another week (in Minnesota) for the 4th of July.

This was going to be far more fun!


photo. I presume this is a translation of an Indigenous Indian name, but at the same time it also appeals to my inherently smutty British sense of humour ;o)


photo. beautiful scenery east of the Sawtooth Range mountains - made moreso in the early evening light.


photo. Obvious caption #2: 'A dirt monster... and a T-Rex'

cont.

Day 16: Wednesday 28th June - Choteau MT to White Sulphur Springs MT (193 miles)

"Trans-Montana Trail"

I'd decided to find a hotel since the campground on the edge of town was a windswept RV park, and the Gunther Motel was actually pretty nice (on the inside at least), and it was a relief to be back in a part of the US where you can still get a room for $50 or less, especially after the Canadian hotel prices!


photo. Time to oil that chain... fortunately a random off-cut of drainpipe worked perfectly as a prop-stand.

I decided against breakfasting at the store which billed 'Espresso and Ammo' on the same sign (a volatile combination if ever there was one!), and opted for the far more salubrious 'Bridges' cafe further down the road on Main St. for a suitable coffee and smoothie influx.


photo. All the gear I'd need for mapping and recording my project for this week - a Trans-Montana BDR route!

A quick jaunt down hwy 89 (everywhere you go in Montana you seem to cross/join the 'Geysers to Glaciers Highway' at some point!) before initially picking up a fast gravel road between Fairfield and Simms, then more gravel/dirt to Cascade (on I15), before embarking on more than 75 miles more dirt on what would turn out to be a highlight of the day...


photo. crossing over Sun River on the initial dirt road - even if there were no bridge, the river would have been wade-able as it was very shallow at this point.


photo. Crown Butte was visible for miles along the Simms-Cascade road.


photo. strange natural terracing on Crown Butte.


photo. OK, that's enough photos of Crown Butte - Ed.

Millegan Road is an epic 75 mile route due south towards Canyon Ferry Lake - initially starting out as a series of fast gravel roads (across the prairie giving access to various ranches), before winding its way up to higher elevation where the road surface deteriorates into more traditional dirt - the kind that gets very slippery when wet, so it was a good job that at this time of year Montana is dry!


photo. Millegan Road is a fantastic back-country crossing, with, as it would turn out, a little bit of everything if you elect to explore some of the side trails once you get closer to Canyon Ferry Lake.

As the trail climbed higher into the Helena National Forest, so too did the 'Beautiful People'* start to appear...

*Those of you who followed my Trans-Am 500 report may recall I used this particular analogy when referring to all the side trails off the main [TAT] through route - that it was like walking into a bar full of beautiful people, and forgetting about the honey on your arm!


photo. This alternative to the main route would turn out to be an absolute corker. note. if this was Austin Vince's orienteering event, this sign would be a checkpoint ;o)


photo. After a few false starts (down dead-end trails to mining claims and/or private land), this trail [4161] turned out to be awesome!


photo. Mining claims are still being lodged in this area...


photo. ...and worked, at least occasionally.


photo. Fortunately the forestry have designated a through route across any private land.

Even though I spent over two hours exploring these hills (initially thwarted by a locked gate, then a dead end, and then by mis-reading a sign on the particular route above - the land on either side was private, but the road through a right of way), I was ultimately rewarded with an epic trail though the forest - just technical enough to keep you on your toes, but totally big-bike-able and/or with luggage. Perfect!


photo. on reaching Canyon Ferry Lake, it was then time to head east on another well-marked dirt road - initially groomed gravel, before it started to climb over the Big Belt Mountains (via Duck Creek Pass at over 7500ft) where the weather inevitably would cause washouts and rougher terrain.


photo. More great scenic views - Montana is full of them!


photo. rolling into White Sulphur Springs from the west, you'll see this rather impressive brick house.

White Sulphur Springs is a funny place... with a distinct lack of women to be seen anywhere. It was all windowless bars and rather grubby looking motels - not really what you'd call a 'resort' in the traditional sense - hot springs or not!

I stumped up an extra eleven bucks for a smarter establishment on the edge of town (as far away from the somewhat scary Main St. thoroughfare as possible ;o), which included breakfast and wifi, and bedded down content with what I'd achieved so far... While it's true I'd not covered as much ground as I would have liked today (having started late in the morning, and diverted around and around in the forest later that afternoon), what I'd found so far had been very much worthy of inclusion in my personal 'definitive Montana' route!


photo. This made me smile, and the fajita special made my belly full!

More soon... I have an oil change to perform!

Toot toot for now!

Jenny x

Day 17: Thursday 29th June - White Sulphur Springs MT to Livingston MT (266 miles* - on one tank of fuel! )

"Montana Mountain Madness!"

*Yes I know Livingston is technically just down the road (yep, hwy 89 again!) from White Sulphur Springs, but not the way I was planning on going!

I don't mind paying top-dollar if the hotel is nice, and certainly the All Seasons Inn was the best of the bunch - an ex Super 8 (in a smart building) now independently run by very fastidious staff it seems - only their coffee was a little lacklustre...

I'd woken early, caught up with some wifi based writing, phoned home, and was now ready to hit the trails again...

Right out of town was a delightful 'warm-up' around Newland Creek Reservoir - plenty of free camping here, I'll remember that for next time ;o) - before rejoining hwy 89 for a Butler Maps 'red' road ride over Kings Hill Pass (not quite a 'gold', but close!)

There seemed to be a huge network of forestry trails (according to my GPS) to the east - but this morning would be all about the pavement first. On reaching Monarch (a tiny town with one restaurant/bar, that may or may not have fuel, I didn't ask if the pumps actually worked), I then headed east on the unpaved Hughesville Road, which starts off following a creek (again with plenty of camping along it's length) before heading into more open country once you pick up Divide Road - but not before my GPS 'shortest route' function took me on the utterly epic 'Butcher Knife DV' trail - a rocky ATV route, and an appreciable climb in this direction* - which required all my concentration on the CB loaded with luggage, which simply tractored up it in fine style in first gear.

*note. being conscientious in my pursuit of a BDR style route, I noted there is also more easy bypass to this trail - Spring Coulee Rd.

It was bang on lunch-time when I finally arrived in Utica, after another one of those prairie trails that fades into grass... and took the only option in town:


photo. The Oxen Yoke Inn serves burgers in multiples of one size only - their 3/4lb patty!

After lunch, Pig Eye Road lead right out of town, and swept through rolling pasture (again, more ranch access), before climbing through the Little Belt Mountains via the delightful Spring Creek Road:


photo. Rock formations, and a network of side trails to explore here too!

I really was in my element now - the bike was singing along, the scenery sweeping by, the weather bright, cheerful and warm - and I was looking forward to joining the dots all the way to the southern border...


photo. An interesting alternative ATV & Motorcycle trail though the forest (which ultimately would rejoin the main road) - only if you look at the Season Closure date, I was one day out - denied! (I could have camped for 12 hours I guess ;o)


Despite a sprinkling of rain towards the end of the trail (enough that I eventually put on my rain-pants), I was confident the rest of my proposed afternoon route would link up, and be uneventful...


photo. Certainly this particular trail was an absolute joy - climbing high into the Lewis & Clark National Forest just east of White Sulphur Springs - and affording a great view of the surrounding countryside.


photo. another fancy ranch sign.


photo. A well cared-for rural wooden church at Lennep. Needs a clock on that tower though!

However, I could see in the distance to the south, the way I was heading now - that there were heavy rain clouds, currently dumping their load all over the Crazy Mountains - having already done their worst over exactly where I intended to try and cross through the mountains to their north, on what appeared to be a six mile gap on my map* between Forest Lake and Shields River Road.

*To clarify, the Butler map does NOT show this as a through route - however, a quick google the night before showed a potential 'trail' joining the two - so I figured it would be worth a punt!

To compound matters, I was now approaching the 200 mile mark and had seen no sign of fuel all day (to be fair I could have diverted east along hwy 12 to Harlowton earlier, but I was on a mission to stay on route ;o), but figured that if the [dirt] road to Forest Lake dead-ended, then I'd have to return to the highway so could always gas-up at White Sulphur Springs again anyway...

Forest Lake road was a lot longer than I'd thought, and sure enough - right at the top, there was a gate:


photo. Closer inspection revealed this route was seasonally open for bikes and ATVs between 15th June and 15th September - result!

I started up the trail (it was still climbing at this point), and immediately became concerned - the wet muddy surface was like ice, the bike sliding this way and that on the slick slimy crust. Dropping a [good] few PSI on the rear tyre helped, and ultimately I ended up riding on the grass next to the muddy two-track, just to keep the tread clean and gain some kind of traction - it was pretty precarious!


photo. I tapped a mark on my GPS screen, and counted down the miles. The gap was only around six miles in total, three up [to the summit] and then three back down again to this 'road'...

Once I'd crested the summit (at just over 7300ft), I imagined the worst would be over now - well if nothing else, at least I would have gravity on my side - although if anything, the wet grassy and muddy trail was actually worse going down - one touch of the brakes would almost certainly see you on your side. I cursed the recent weather through gritted teeth - this trail would have been an absolute joy in the dry!


photo. Looks nice and flat here doesn't it? It was damn near treacherous on a laden bike if you wanted to avoid falling over!

Eventually, after a particularly sharp decent, the trail started to flatten out... the GPS said I was now on 'Shields River Road' and yet I was still riding wet grassy two-track, with no end it sight... A couple of gates were cause for alarm - ominous looking padlocked chains from a distance, although on inspection fortunately one side had been left unlocked (this was technically a seasonal through-route after all), and certainly there would be no way back up that wet grassy meadow if I'd had to retreat.

Then my [2nd] worst fear was realised - the 'River' from which the road presumably took it's name, would need to be forded - only now it was in full flood, after the torrential rain that afternoon.


photo. It doesn't look too bad in the photo, but it was fast-flowing, rocky, and about knee-deep in places... certainly not ideal to try and cross when you're on your own.

I spent a good few minutes looking for an alternative route - the creek had now burst it's banks and split into three channels around trees and spits, effectively creating a series of islands - my only real chance of crossing would be to attempt each in turn, and hope I didn't mis-foot and drop the bike.






You'll have to wait until I get home again and edit the video, but lets just say it felt like an epic achievement once I'd finally made it across that last channel - my feet soaking, and the evening drawing in...


photo. And still there was no sign of a proper road!

Ultimately, I followed my GPS road across another pasture (the long grass hiding what I feared could be a multitude of riverlettes and sink-holes), until I eventually spied a house in the distance. It was a big fancy house - a hunting lodge style log building - two stories high with a manicured driveway out front. I factored that at least there now ought to be a proper road connecting this property to the outside world (just as long as it didn't have fancy electronic gates or something!) and as I approached the boundary, the 'road' (such as it was) I was following had been fenced across with no way through - instead a pair of gates linked my trail to their driveway via a paddock. I may very well have to turn on the charm here I thought.

Again, I was relieved to find both these gates were unlocked, and although there was no sign of life in or around the house itself, I offered a tentative wave of gratitude as I beat a hasty path towards freedom. No electronic gates, just a gravel road and then finally, pavement. What a resounding result!


photo. I can't recall the last time I was so relieved to find a paved highway! - and if you notice, a rainbow appeared as if to celebrate too!


I rejoined hwy 89, and tapped the 'find fuel' button on my GPS. Amazingly, my reserve fuel light had not actually started flashing yet (at 239 miles), although it soon did - and it was a lot further to Livingston than I imagined (and I foolishly rode past a small unmanned fuel station at Clyde Park a few miles to the north).

Creeping into town on fumes again (actually, I think the reserve on the CB is far larger than the gauge suggests - I've subsequently seen 0.6 flashing, and there was apparently still 2 litres in the tank, but that's another story you'll have to wait a little longer for...), I topped off the tank and set about googling for a reasonably priced motel - although being cold and wet and tired, I was not going to be that choosy... and it's a good job, as everywhere in town was well over $100, with a lot charging $200 or more - this being the 'Gateway to Yosemite' as the local Chamber of Commerce would have you believe... Shit.

I eventually found a Budget Host at the far end of town that was $89 - more than I wanted to spend, but it was warm and dry, and the lady on reception exceptionally cheery and informative about not only what Montana had to offer the travelling tourist, but seeming half the United States too!

I'd rolled into town just as the sun was setting, and figured that since my feet were already soaked it wouldn't hurt to take advantage of the evening light, and head back out on the bike (helmet-less this time, it is Montana after all!) for a quick spin and photograph a few of the old buildings and neon signs that pepper this particular outpost of the Old West:













And with that I retired to my room, stuffed my boots full of newspaper and took full advantage of the hotel hot water system!

It had been a long and eventful day, but I really felt I'd sucked the marrow out of Montana - all I needed to do now was finally join the dots to Red Lodge (the northern/Montana end of the Beartooth Highway), then I could bank all these GPS tracks get on with my journey east once more...

More soon!

Jenny x

Right, shall we crack on then?

Day 18: Friday 30th June - Livingston MT to Sheridan WY (375 miles)

"Golden haul"

So to recap - I'd crossed into Montana on Tuesday morning, and after an epic day on the trails in the north western corner (having had to forfeit the Going-to-the-Sun highway through Glacier National park being closed due to snow), decided to forfeit visiting Yellowstone and instead plot a far more elaborate off-road (or at least dirt-road) route diagonally south through the state, to ultimately join up with another 'Gold' road - the Beartooth Highway, that crosses the Montana/Wyoming border at around 11,000ft - before continuing my journey east through northern Wyoming...

I liked Livingston - yes it was expensive accommodation wise, but the brick buildings and neon signs appealed to my aesthetic sense, while "Chadz" coffee house appealed equally to my tastebuds - great coffee and an excellent smoothie, served by a comic if somewhat curt pair of young guys behind the counter, one of which I presume was Chad himself?


photo. what do you do with your old towels if you run a budget hotel in Livingston? Make them into curtains of course...


photo. the old 'newspaper overnight to dry your boots out' trick will be familiar to anyone who trail-rides in the UK... they are dry enough not to be uncomfortable the next day.

There is an excellent dirt road [Swingley Rd] right out of Livingston - an excellent way to warm up for the day ahead as it wound up into the foothills, passing some fancy ranch properties where presumably rich Montanans go to live a little way off the grid:



Similarly Big Timber (on I90) is another smarter residential area, and I stayed off the interstate on the old hwy 10 route to Quebec (riding between the railroad and the interstate for a few miles, I felt was the perfect metaphor for how cross country travel has changed over the last century), before picking up dirt once again - heading for Red Lodge and the Montana end of the Beartooth Highway.


photo. the Bozeman Trail is another long-distance gold pioneer route that joined the gold fields of Montana through Wyoming from what was the original east-west Oregon Trail.

Staying off the paved hwy 78 as much as I could, it was an enjoyable morning zig-zagging between working ranches and holiday properties in the shadow of Bare Mountain and the imposing Wyoming border beyond, all the way into Red Lodge.


photo. 'Merica!


photo. I initially marked this coffee stand as my 'official' end/start point of my Trans-Montana route... although once I rode south down main street, I found there were any number of cafes, bars and restaurants that would make an equally suitable and more salubrious rendezvous point.

Suitably refreshed with another smoothie and coffee'd up with a large espresso, it was time to make tracks east, by initially going west...


photo. Heading up Beartooth Highway - hwy 212 - south west towards Wyoming...




photo. Snow banks remained towards the summit pass (10,947ft), although the road itself is ploughed and well-maintained.


photo. Starting down the Wyoming side...


photo. The Beartooth Highway is not just a Gold road on the Butler maps, but is world-class by any motorcycle standard - a top-ten if not top-five in the world!

Once you drop below the snow line, if you continue west on hwy 212 you ultimately enter Yellowstone National Park from the east side; but if riding some awesome remote twisty highway is your end game, then a far better alternative is to turn hard left onto highway 296, and head back east on the Cheif Joseph Scenic Byway that passes through the Shoshone National Forest, topping out at 8,060ft over Dead Indian Pass - another Gold road on the Butler maps.


photo. looking back west from the top of Dead Indian Pass - I had ridden the whole of this Red and Gold road from the junction of hwy 212 with no other traffic in front of me, except for two pick-ups in last few hundred yards to the summit. Wonderful!

Dropping down the far side, I spied a suitable looking dirt-road in my GPS that cut across the desert, which would spit me out in Powell, just in time for afternoon tea (well, coffee and a sandwich to be precise)...


photo. my first dirt in Wyoming - Sand Coulee Rd - this trail reminded me a lot of Nevada or Utah.

After an excellent sandwich at 'Uncommon Grounds' - an independent coffee shop in Powell (so good I marked it in my GPS as a waypoint for future reference!) I fell more than ready to continue east into this warm summer evening, and rattled off another two Gold roads in the process - crossing the Big Horn Mountains on the Medicine Wheel Passage Scenic Byway (hwy alt14):







...before cutting another corner on a delightful dirt road all the way into Sheridan, to find a hotel.

It really had been a perfect 'adventure riding' day - a mix of easy dirt roads, more technical sandy trails, and punctuated in large parts by some truly epic paved mountain highways - indeed the Brits had collected 4 Golds in a single day today!

Throughout there had been stunning vistas, very little traffic, some good coffee and excellent smoothies - in fact the only dampener to the whole day was finding out that Sheridan is another of those towns where you can't get a cheap hotel - or at least not one you'd want to stay in. I settled for a Super-8 on the outskirts of town, negotiated the rack-rate down to what Expedia had promised, and settled in for the night.

I'd not really planned much for Wyoming (my goal for the weekend was to visit Deadwood and the Black Hills in south Dakota), and the prospect of a long interstate shlep did not really appeal, but at least it would get me to South Dakota by tomorrow afternoon...

I then got a text from Lisa: "Are you going to visit the Devil's Tower?" - of course, that's in bloody Wyoming isn't it - and I'd almost be going past the door... time to formulate a [slightly] alternative route that would give me a closer encounter!

More soon...

Jenny x

Day 19: Saturday 1st of July - Sheridan WY to Deadwood SD (272 miles)

"Cowboys and Aliens... and Pirates"

Sketchy wifi, no guest laundry and being woken at 5.45am by another f**king train (a word of warning - the Super-8 in Sheridan backs onto a freight railway line - avoid!) meant there was little that had endeared me to this particular establishment, in fact the only saving grace was the prospect of a breakfast waffle machine... indeed had it been out of commission I am confident the Super-8 in Sheridan would have been burnt to the ground for the good of all travellers coming behind me.

As I chewed over my second* crispy syrupy delectation (*well, there was a long day ahead and it wasn't even 7am yet), I considered how people who live this far north and central - so far away from Washington, New York or Hollywood - can so easily consider those places [and people] as alien - the current political climate and ecological issues (never mind any superficial celebrity 'news') seemingly having little if any bearing on their day to day life here in rural America... there sure are a lot of churches here though!

Having been gifted this early morning thanks to the BNSF railway company (bastards!), I'd already plotted a route east on dirt roads across the desert to Gillette, followed by a short interstate section before heading north on the scenic hwy 14 towards the Devil's Tower...


photo. Fortunately, the weather was...

The route due east out of town (past the Motel 6 if you're planning on staying there - it's not cheap either, but at least it's away from the damn railway line!) started out on fast gravel, before deteriorating into softer sandy two-track after I crossed over hwy 14 and headed south east for Gillette.

It was a close shave, but I think I avoided any obvious puns as I picked up I90 for thirty odd miles, before turning north on hwy 14 towards the Devil's Tower - which is the USA's first designated National Monument, trivia fans...


photos. I was able to take a good number of photos of the Tower from a distance, but elected to skip the actual visitor centre and associated hike as it was already busy on this holiday weekend Saturday morning, with lines of traffic queuing to enter the park.

Rather than retrace a few steps south, my Butler map revealed another dirt road a little further north that would connect the cowboy/rodeo town of Hulett to Sundance - and Hulett was certainly worth the visit, if only for the old west ambiance and particularly good sandwiches at this particular joint - heartily recommended!



Over lunch I considered that not only had I been spending a lot more money than I'd intended on hotels these past couple of weeks (and cursing lugging my camping gear with me while not actually using it, especially every time it had got soaked and needed drying out and repacking); but coupled with the fact I was now heading to a major tourist destination, over one of the busiest holiday weekends of the year (July 4th), felt I'd have no option but to start camping, starting tonight...

Fortunately there were a number of commercial campgrounds listed in my GPS around Deadwood and the Black Hills, so the risk of being eaten by a bear would be greatly diminished I felt. With that decided, it was time to hit the trails, and head towards the location of another of my favourite TV shows: Deadwood*

*Note. I realise that [unlike Twin Peaks] the TV show Deadwood was not actually filmed there on location in South Dakota, and that indeed the current town was vastly different to the original wooden mining camp of 1876 where the show was set. But my main reason for visiting was actually to pay respects at the real-life graves of wild west legends Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane and Seth Bullock, among others of course.


photo. The trail south [through the Black Hills National Forest] towards Sundance went this way according to the 'shortest route' in my GPS (always worth a punt in my experience)...


photo. ...despite being denied, the alternative loop back to the main road was no less fun than that initial decent too!

I picked a through-route on dirt roads and trails from Sundance across the State-line towards Roughlock Falls (a popular area for OHVs, and rental SSVs particularly), and rather than ride straight into Deadwood on the highway via Cheyenne Crossing - a scenic and popular route in itself, especially with the Pirate brigade it would seem - the Garmin revealed what turned out to be an absolutely corking OHV route up and over the mountain in between, past the Terry Peak ski resort:


photo. Yes, Deadwood actually has a ski resort - who would have guessed?!

The whole afternoon had been one surprise after another... I hadn't really considered that a lot of this part of the country is also at high elevation, which in turn is riddled with old mining dirt roads and trails, and some stunning scenic highways to ride too.

Of course I now realise why Sturgis [bike week] is held where it is - not only is the [road] riding and scenery exceptional around the Black Hills, but you also have any number of premier visitor attractions such as Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse, Deadwood, Custer State Park [Needles Highway] and the legendary Iron Mountain Road*; while for the off-road fanatic [be that on two or four wheels] - as I was increasingly finding out, there is a huge network of OHV trails though the forests too!

*note. There isn't currently a Butler map for South Dakota, but if there was, Iron Mountain Road and Needles Highway would be Gold standard motorcycle routes for sure, and were certainly on my list to ride this trip...


photo. Despite the whole town being rebuilt in brick [and therefore bearing little resemblance to the original wooden camp], key locations are suitably marked to help us hapless tourists navigate between the copious casinos and tacky souvenir shops...


photo. Seth Bullock was one of the original pioneers (and ultimately the first Sheriff) of Deadwood, and his name became synonymous with the city as it grew over the years.


photo. this was originally a little wooden shack back in 1876.


photo. Fancy designer hat shop - a refreshing if expensive alternative to the tacky t-shirts and caps for sale up and down main street.

I'd enjoyed visiting the miniature model railway in the basement of one of the tourist shops (pay a dollar, watch it run for ten minutes - who'd not love that?!), felt slightly peeved at paying five bucks for half a glass of root and a scoop of cheap vanilla ice-cream in the Wild Bill Bar, and ultimately couldn't stand the crowds and noise that filled the town - not least the steady procession of Harley hogs with open pipes flatulating their way up and down Main St. - no one is ****ing impressed by your exhaust you douches!

I sought a little solitude a short way up what turned out to be a surprisingly steep hill - where Mount Moriah Cemetery is situated, overlooking the town.


photo. the graves* of Calamity Jane and her unrequited love, Wild Bill Hickok. Through the trees you can just see some of the roof-tops of the town - it was a damn long way up here!

*note for history buffs - the original Ingleside Cemetery (and Hickok's original grave) was further down the hill nearer the town, but was moved to this new and much larger location in 1878 - presumably as it was getting too full with all the lawlessness at the time! Interestingly, houses have long since been built on the original cemetery site, and as recently as 2012 remains of an original gold-rush pioneer were dug up in someone's backyard!


photo. And blow me if Seth Bullock (and his wife Martha) are not buried even higher up the hill - another 778ft up the hill!


photo. Still, it is a beautiful spot to be laid to rest.


photo. Just in case you have any trouble finding it... it's even in the Garmin Topo maps!

As the sun began to slip down behind the tree-line, I felt Deadwood had finally begun to redeem itself. I'm not a religious person, nor do I care much for mawkish reverence of graves in general; but the tranquility of this place, high above the Sin City below, was refreshing... and I left Deadwood behind with a sense of calm, ready to set up camp a few miles down the road, and consider my next move.

Stay tuned!

Jx

Day 20: Sunday 2nd July - Deadwood SD to Sioux Falls SD (505 miles)

"Black Hills gold - the motherlode"

I freely admit I'd forgotten how much of a faff it is breaking-camp compared to leaving a motel - especially when you've been camping on grass at altitude and everything is damp. I'd been awake since 6am and now it was after eight!

Airing my tent while I snaffled down a Clif bar and coffee for breakfast, I'd got chatting to a couple of Goldwing riders who had camped in the spot opposite. They'd ridden over from the east side of the State (one of them tugging a trailer!) and regularly ride the Black Hills, so were a great source of information regarding those 'must ride' routes... thank you!

Of course I already had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to go and what I wanted to see - the only proviso was that I'd accepted a generous invitation to spend Tuesday (the 4th of July) with a friend and his family on the North Shore of Lake Superior, which was still a good two-days' ride away (850 miles direct, or thereabouts). But at the same time, I wasn't going to forfeit all this excellent riding just to shelp along an interstate...

I rolled out of camp around 8.30am, and fuelled up on premium (no ethanol!) at a gas-stop a couple of miles down the road - jostling for position at the pumps with dozens of side-by-sides and ATVs, many of them rentals by the look of it - although interestingly it seems that Polaris (and their ilk) are quickly becoming the OHV of choice compared to the otherwise ubiquitous Jeep of one size and shape or another... with any number of privately owned examples, hugely modified and being trailered in to what I was soon to realise was a honey-pot of OHV trails!

Once again I trusted my Garmin's 'shortest route' function to plot an alternative to the paved highway, right through the middle of a huge OHV trail network - heading generally south past Custer Peak via Mystic and ultimately Hill City on hwy 395.

From here, I planned to continue south on pavement and visit the Crazy Horse Memorial (still under construction of course), then double back through Custer State park on the Needles Highway, before passing by Mt. Rushmore, and finally leaving the Black Hills behind via the epic Iron Mountain Road (hwy 16a)...

But first, it was time to hit the trails - and boy, what trails they turned out to be!


photo. I hoped this was not the lasting memory I'd take away...


photo. This was starting to get interesting...

The network started out on easy wide gravel trails - ideal access for any rigs and campers trailering in OHV vehicles I'm sure. Soon enough I was faced with a choice - continue on the wide gravel [Rochford] road, or take a minor trail ominously named "Bloody Gulch" - well, which would you choose? - exactly!



As the network continued to take me deeper into the forest, so too the trails started to get more narrow and less maintained - although I figured that since they all had [OHV] route numbers, it was likely that someone had already been down here before me this season, and most likely on an ATV or in an SSV, so would have cleared any fallen trees and other debris that might otherwise mess up my morning...

Sure enough, while one NF trail was particularly overgrown and washed out, there was always enough room to get a bike through - priceless!

While I can always trust my Garmin to hunt out the best trails, I still tend to utilise my 'coffee nose' when searching for a decent espresso - and sure enough, back on the highway south of Hill City (I mention it particularly for the following reason), the Pine Rest Cabins [hotel] also has a fantastic espresso bar behind their check-in counter - what a result!


photo. The Crazy Horse Memorial is only partially finished - although the face itself is already 50% taller than those on nearby Mt. Rushmore. Ultimately the intention is to carve the whole mountain into a huge rider and horse's head that will stand 563ft tall!

Although the entry lines were not excessive, I decided that since I was already on a roll this morning, to continue onwards and make the most of the rest of the day, all the while continuing my long journey east...

A few miles further south of Crazy Horse is Custer, and highway 16A east of here passes though part of the State Park, which requires a fee - however, I was pleased to learn (and pass this information on for anyone else planning on visiting the area) that as long as you promise not to stop and use any of the park facilities you can continue east without paying the $10 entry fee.

However, as I was soon to find out, if you then want to head north again on Needles Highway (hwy 87), they'll get you at a second entry booth. Ah well...


photo. The Needle's Eye tunnel on hwy 87 (Needles Highway) in Custer State Park.

Needles Highway is an excellent twisty and mostly narrow (and even single lane in places) scenic highway, that winds though canyons and along terraces surrounded by huge monolithic rocks - reminiscent of southern Utah.

I'd suggest it's certainly worthy of a Gold status once Butler finally get around to it, however - and I had been warned by my new friends on the Goldwings earlier that morning - it's best to ride it very early in the morning, since by Sunday lunchtime, especially on a major holiday weekend, it was crawling with slow cars and campers.


photo. Chaos at almost every lay-by and parking lot... (who thought it would be a good idea to try and bring an RV through this tunnel?!)

I wouldn't say don't ride it - especially if like me, it was your first time here - but I'm confident you'll have equally as much fun if you stick to hwy 89 [north] out of Custer, and you'll avoid the fee and the traffic - especially if it's after 9am.


Once again I trusted my Garmin to cut a corner on dirt, and swooped down hwy 224 heading east - towards the entrance to Mt. Rushmore.

My. God. The traffic here was horrendous! Fortunately for me, it was all heading uphill in the other direction - both lanes locked solid for over three miles, going nowhere. Being a National Monument, they do not charge for entry; however, they do charge $10 (per vehicle) for parking, and by early afternoon it was now one-in one-out, and suck-it-up buttercup.

I parked the CB on a grass verge, and grabbed a quick photo with the camera in my pocket - pleasantly surprised that you could actually see the facade in full view of the entrance station, rather that have it tucked around a corner forcing you to queue and pay.


photo. We all know what it looks like, but still it is equally impressive in person.

There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to wait to enter the facility itself (even though they were letting traffic turn left across the highway from the direction I was heading in), so hopped back on and sped off downhill, for my date with the legendary Iron Mountain Road.


photo. Riding though this tunnel in the opposite direction, I saw a photographer standing at the far end, and sure enough, recalling what the Goldwing riders had told me that morning, stopped at the exit and turned around - wow! (I'm sure this tunnel was carved at the precise angle to give you this reaction!)

Iron Mountain road is certainly worthy of it's reputation - twisty enough to be entertaining, but not so much that the Sturgis/Harley crowd can't make the corners - well, most of them at least... Initially there was far less traffic to contend with, and I carved the pig-tail bridges with utter glee (why did they build them? - presumably just because they can!)


photo. There are a series of these 'pig-tail' bridges on the northern section of Iron Mountain Road (winding 360° or more) - huge fun!

However, almost inevitably I ended up as part of either a Harley parade, or else a line of frustrated four-wheelers stuck behind an RV or tourist SUV... Now I'm aware of the irony here of course - after all I am a tourist too and "Don't blame the traffic, you are the traffic" as the bumper-sticker says, regardless of the vehicle you choose... But hell, when you're on a motorcycle, sitting behind a huge SUV with blacked-out windows crawling along erratically at 25 mph is like sitting behind a fat guy in a hat in the cinema...

note. While you can usually zip past slower traffic on a motorcycle, the problem with Iron Mountain Road is it is so twisty, that it is not really prudent to take such risks - not least as you'd have to be quite aggressive, and that is inevitably going to piss other road-users off... Ultimately, I ended up conceding, pulling over to the side of the road for a few minutes and just waiting - typically until another vehicle appeared in my mirror (to give me the maximum gap between the vehicles ahead) - and then riding the twisty sections with a relatively clear view. Again, this is road for early mornings, or late afternoons - and ideally a little out of season.

If you were hoping to find a decent meal in Hermosa SD, think again. On either side of the dusty road there were basically two halves of ****-all, and I ended up with a lame gas-station sandwich at the Flying J on the main highway.

It was already mid-afternoon, and from here I would have to head resolutely east now if there was any chance of making it to the State line (with Minnesota) by nightfall...

While I could have headed a few miles north for Rapid City and the Interstate, there was a pretty clear diagonal [on dirt for a good distance] that would also take me though the Badlands National Park... that was decided then - and the CB absolutely nailed the next 40 miles in as many minutes on sweeping gravel farm roads - perfect!


photo. although hwy 337 does cut through the eastern end of Badlands National Park, being after 4.30pm the entrance station waved me though with no fee - result!


photo. My route gave me a taste of the Badlands - you really need to ride hwy 240 though the middle of the park to get the full effect.

Ultimately I joined I90 east of Badlands, and there was still 275 miles to go to my intended destination - Sioux Falls. The interior of South Dakota was now particularly hot and oppressive - proper roasty! I stopped for a Subway and to top up my Camelbak with ice from their soda machine, laying to rest the ghost of the nasty Flying J sandwich and weak warm tea from earlier... setting off again with jacket flapping open and gloves stashed in my pocket, iPod dialled up to the max.

I rolled into a Motel-6 car-park a little after 10pm that evening, having covered over half an Iron-Butt since breakfast. Today, perhaps more than any other day since I've owned it, exemplified just how good an all-round, all-terrain travel bike the Rally Raid CB500X is...

I'd started out that morning with over 50 miles of pukka ATV trails, in the Black Hills OHV network between Deadwood and Hill City - then carved the mountain twisties on Needles Highway and Iron Mountain Road (and stopped briefly to take some tourist photos too of course!). After lunch, I then hammered out 40 miles of gravel roads at 60mph or more like I was on some open-class rally bike, followed by another 365 miles of highway and Interstate, almost all of which was covered at a steady 75mph (the legal limit of South Dakota of course ;o)

Not once had the bike complained, nor even hinted it might let me down - and not once did I ever wish I was on anything other the CB... It was better at everything than you might expect - felt like a big dirt bike on the dirt, and a street bike on the highway. In fact I'd go as far as to say it was actually better at both sides of the coin than you'd ever think possible - not just a genuine 50/50 bike, but it's actually a 60/60 bike if you see what I mean? Honestly, I consider this an exceptional travel machine - and without a doubt the best ALL-terrain adventure bike I've ever ridden!

Anyway, with that conclusion, it was time to get some sleep - it would be another long [highway] day tomorrow if I was to reach the North Shore of Lake Superior as planned; and being Minnesota, there were a couple of pop-culture sights I also intended to visit along the way...

More soon!

Jenny x

Day 21: Monday 3rd July - Sioux Falls SD to Tofte MN (487 miles)

"Dearly Beloved..."

We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life...

But first, we've got a huge chunk of highway to cover before we reach Minneapolis - the best part of 250 miles...

Today was all about getting north as quickly as possible. That is not to dismiss southern Minnesota out of hand - it was a pleasant trip, in warm sunny weather - farmers fields flashing by on either side and Prince's Greatest Hits on permanent rotation in my helmet speakers (yes, I'd 'upgraded' to a Sena intercom for this trip, although if I'm honest at higher speeds, I still prefer traditional ear-buds to help cancel the wind noise more effectively...), but I was on a mission to honour my commitment this evening, and arrive at what was effectively the Canadian border before sundown.

There really was only one place I wanted to visit in the city, and as it turns out, it's just off the main I94 ring-road too - but my route in from the west could easily take me past Lake Minnetonka too, another location (or not as it turns out) from the movie Purple Rain.


photo. Piglet doing his best Apollonia impression - in this case, yes, that actually is Lake Minnetonka...


photo. Minneapolis was mercifully free of traffic mid-afternoon.


photo. The surface streets were almost deserted too!


photo. So much so I was even able to pose my bike directly opposite First Ave. (and the 'famous' 7th St. entrance).

As I snapped away, I noticed through the viewfinder that a butterfly had landed on the corner of my wind screen, and was fluttering in the warm breeze - a perfectly poetic and allegoric moment I thought - Prince being the ultimate 'Pop butterfly' of course... The analogy even more appropriate when on approaching, it turns out this particular butterfly was very much dead.

I'd enjoyed taking a moment at this iconic 80's music mecca, but the afternoon heat in the city was stifling, and I was also aware that actually I was still only about half way to my final destination that evening - and it would be rude to arrive late when I was being so graciously hosted at a friend's family reunion.

I utilised Minnesota's Interstate network once more for another one hundred and fifty miles (Sorry Wisconsin, we're gonna have to leave it for another time), with the aim of dropping by another pop culture location en route - immortalised by Gore Vidal in his eponymous novel Duluth.


photo. Love it or loathe it, you can never leave it or lose it... (I don't mean the bike you fools!)


photo. If you've read the book, you'll see the relevance - I actually happened on this building quite by chance, as I stopped to reprogram my GPS!


photo. Although I was conscious of time now, I did spend a short while poking around the waterfront.


photo. Maybe I need an Instagram account?

And with that, it was back on the highway, heading north along the lake for the tiny town of Tofte. Noah had given me the address of his parent's house, and on tapping it into my GPS, the screen suggested it was actually on the lake side of the highway...

Waterfront property on Lake Superior? - Wow, just what had I let myself in for? - I couldn't wait to see it!

More soon...

Jenny x

Day 22: Tuesday 4th July - Tofte MN to the shore and back again... (0 miles)

"Happy holiday - quitters!"

I'd been made so welcome by everyone who had gathered at the Horak homestead - and boy there were a lot of people! - siblings, parents, cousins, second cousins, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, together with an even further extended family that may or may not have been blood related, it really didn't matter!

Having arrived in good time the evening before - I was immediately introduced to any number of cheery faces in far too rapid succession for my little brain to cope with, plied with food, and ended up drinking whiskey until the small hours with Noah and a couple of cousins down on the rocky shoreline that was part of his parents' property.

This really was a little piece of heaven, and was going to be the perfect way to celebrate what is arguably Americas most favourite holiday - July 4th*

*I will say it this way only once... otherwise it's the 4th of July, you quitters!



photo. an utterly stunning location, a series of holiday cabins on the shore of Lake Superior.

There was a packed programme (again, note the spelling - you ungrateful bunch!) of activity scheduled for the whole day today... First of all, coffee of course - brewed in fine style in a vintage glass flask, and sipped at a leisurely pace while watching the sun rise though picture windows, that offered a panoramic view across the lake. Then we all crammed into a succession of vehicles for a short ride into town...

The Tofte Trek is an institution - a 10k (yes, that's in kilometres - you philistines!) fund-raising 'fun run' that some people actually take surprisingly seriously. It was actually Noah's father who started the event 30 years ago, and now every year on the morning of July 4th (dang, I did it again...) over 200 people turn out in this tiny town to cross-country run through the local wilderness, often getting filthy in the process!

Lunch back at the house was a huge family affair - with even more people having arrived throughout the morning it appeared - the centre piece being a huge brisket that Noah had smoked since the early hours. With most of us having drunk far too much in the heat of the day, those of us not already snoozing it off elected to ride bicycles back into town to watch the afternoon parade - fire engines, farm machinery, vintage cars and majorettes - as a Brit I particularly revelled in the damn wholesomeness of it all!

Weaving our way back to the cabins later that afternoon, we embarked on another huge barbecue for dinner, before returning to town once more for the grand finale - a huge firework display, held over the rocky shore of the lake.


photo. It was an impressive display, made more magical by the fact the whole town were perched on the rocks, wrapped in blankets, looking like a collection of sea-lions!

Ultimately it was another late night chatting and drinking with the handful of us who'd found some semblance of stamina to stay awake... and the perfect way to wrap up a wonderful day!

cont.

Day 23: Wednesday 5th July - Tofte MN to Wawa ON (652km = 408 miles)

"Beach bummer..."

I'd had an absolutely fabulous time with Noah and his family, and after three weeks on the road, had really enjoyed not having to get on my bike for a whole day...

However, I was also aware that taking a break so close to my next commitment - the Overland Adventure Rally which is held each year just outside Toronto, in Campbellville Ontario - meant the rest of this week would require a couple of long days if I were to arrive before the official start on Friday... with the venue still almost* a thousand miles away if I were to take my intended route around the top of Lake Superior.

(*979 miles according to Google)

As usual it took far too long for me to say goodbye - waylaid by pancakes and coffee and the sweetest send-off from the family - and I rolled back onto the highway intending to get the hammer down...

Fuelling up in Grand Marais (conscious that fuel was going to be cheaper here in the US than once I'd crossed into Canada again), the road ran right alongside the shore at this point, and I was momentarily distracted by what I felt would be a great photo opportunity, and a fond farewell to Minnesota:


photo. It seemed like a good idea at the time...

However, having ridden down the shale bank and posed the bike on the pebbles, I soon found myself in a bit of a predicament:


photo. I'd already removed my luggage, but the full tank of fuel was not helping matters either!

I've been in similar situations before with a big bike (I'm thinking back to my Tenere in the Mauritanian desert), but typically this is almost always on sand, and this was a LOT worse... No matter what I tried, the bike would simply dig-down with the merest touch of the throttle - and this burrowing was compounded the moment I tried to point the beast up hill...

Backfilling the hole as best I could and using all my strength to almost drag the bike round parallel with the water, I set it on the side stand and walked back along the beach to see if there was a slightly more gentle slope I might attempt - clearly the only really chance was to try and get enough of a run-up on the more level beach, and use momentum to carry me up any incline.

Ultimately I must have tried three or four times - both running alongside the bike (in an effort to have it effectively float on top of the stones), and also seated to try and gain a little more speed - and each time the bike either bogged before the climb, or else dug-in on the diagonal the moment the front wheel started to climb - despite having aired the rear tyre right down. After what must have been half an hour or more, I admit I was pretty much exhausted by now, and there came a point that I even contemplated phoning Noah to come and give me a hand... but knew that to a fellow solo adventure rider, that was a lame option - and one that I'd never hear the end of ;o)

Of course I eventually escaped the clutches of the shale - stripped down to just my boots, a t-shirt and jeans - I extended my run-up, jumped back on the bike, slipped the clutch like a drag racer and managed to snick second before it dug-in again, and held on for dear life as I fishtailed up the slope in a shallow diagonal direction - not letting up until the front wheel crested the bank, stones spitting like gatling gun from the rear, and the tarmac was in sight at last!

Whether the original photo was worth all the massive effort was something I would contemplate for much of the rest of the day...



photo. Canadian border crossing - a very different and far more congenial experience to the last time I was heading north near Vancouver, in the traffic and the rain...

Despite getting delayed on the beach earlier, I was confident I'd be able to make it approximately half way today, find somewhere to stay, and press on early the next morning to arrive in good time by the following evening...


photo. Canadian hwy 17 is particularly scenic - skirting the Lake Superior shoreline from Thunder Bay to Heron Bay, before it starts to head inland...


photo. It's not real... if it was, at this size it would be terrifying!

I rolled into Wawa on the west side of the Lake just as the sun was setting, shamed myself in Tim Horton's with a sticky bun, and made use of their free wifi* to try and find a hotel...

*My UK cell-phone provider allows me to use my bundled minutes and data when I'm in the USA, but not in Canada - so I had to remember to switch off my data roaming once north of the border... It's ironic really (what with the Commonwealth and all that ;o), and especially since cell phone coverage in Canada seems to be much better than the US in general!

...unfortunately it appeared every hotel in town was fully booked - what? on this, a Wednesday night? A quick ride up the main drag confirmed this with a succession of No Vacancy neon, and I had no choice be to continue south until I found a motel that appeared to have rooms available.

The lobby smelt of weed and $110 CAN smarted, but what other option did I have? It turns out there was massive road construction going on all along the highway south of here, and the road crews had booked pretty much every room in town.

cont.

Day 24: Thursday 6th July - Wawa ON to Campbellville ON (946km = 591 miles)

"The final push..."

I'd set my alarm for 6.30am - there was no chance of breakfast at this joint, so made do with a Jet-boil coffee and crunch bar in the room.


photo. This made me laugh... it was about as far away from the Marriot Plaza as you could get - both literally and metaphorically...

Hitting the road just after 7am, my GPS was optimistically suggesting I'd arrive at the Overland Adventure Rally venue by about 5pm (using the fastest not the shortest route - which would actually take longer), with the best part of a thousand kilometres still to go - yes, I'd not made it quite as far as halfway yesterday as I'd originally hoped...

Initially I was riding in thick fog (Wawa is actually pretty close to the edge of the lake again), and coupled with the broken roadway, cones and construction traffic, this made for an interesting introduction to the day.

The miles simply flew by, punctuated by coffee and fuel stops, and the odd contra-flow and road-works pilot-car parade. In fact the only really memorable moment from today was once I'd started heading due south towards Toronto (still around 300kms out), having not bothered to top off my fuel previously as I'd factored there would be plenty of fuel stations on this main route...

I was wrong. The trip meter clicked over into the reserve zone, and still there was nothing... another 20 miles went by and I tapped 'find fuel' into the GPS, and it said there was a fuel station 35 miles ahead - that's OK I thought. The reserve count-down continued - 0.3, 0.4 - I'd never gone further than 0.4 in what I'd always thought was a half gallon reserve.

0.5 yikes... then, 0.6 - I rolled to a stop opposite where the fuel station was meant to be. A general store all boarded up and abandoned. The next fuel (in my GPS at least) was another 40 miles further south. Shit.


photo. CB500X owners will be familiar with the reserve count-down trip meter. But I trust most of you have not had the misfortune to see this number!

I dismounted, crossed the highway, and looked across the empty forecourt. To my utter relief there was a 'We've moved!' sign attached to the chain link fence, and their new location was a campground a couple of kilometres up the side road - I just hoped they'd moved the fuel tanks too...

Sure enough, it was a shiny new facility - I topped off the bike, and topped off myself with an ice cream and sugary soft-drink to celebrate this close call*!

*I say close call, but in actual fact I still only managed to get 16 litres into the purportedly 17.5l tank...

The rest of the ride was uneventful, and I rolled into the Mowhawk Inn & Conference Centre in plenty of time to meet the organisation team, get a bite to eat, and enjoy a few beers with those who'd arrived early as presenters and traders.

I'd been scheduled to present my slideshow from the Trans-Am 500 trip on the Saturday evening, so Friday would be about having some fun - and the offer of a Montesa Trials bike (to ride on the permanent trails course the venue has hidden in their woods) was all the incentive I'd need to get up early again tomorrow morning!

As I retired to my room, I considered that the 'Northern Exposure' element of this trip was now technically over - from here on, I'd basically be heading south and west to get back home again. Since leaving San Jose I'd already ridden nearly 7000 miles (in the last four days alone just shy of 2000 miles) - and experienced a whole new side to North America.

Throughout this journey I'd taken the opportunity to renew old acquaintances and make new friends - visited locations I'd only ever seen in photographs, or as the backdrop to some of my favourite TV shows and Movies - and in between ridden some world-class highways and explored some epic trails... all the while revelling in the magnificence of the scenery, embracing the wilderness, and the sense of freedom that a life lived away from the big cities, crowds and traffic allows.

Of course there was still going to be a little more riding in Canada before I resolutely had to head back home - I was especially looking forward to the main Saturday trail-rideout, where I'd get the chance to ride the CB off-road without luggage for a change. There would also be a whole host of faces which I could finally put to names, and online friendships to be strengthened out here in the real world.

This is exactly what I'd hoped to achieve from this trip, and so far, everything had exceeded my expectations...

More soon!

Jenny xx

Day 25: Friday 7th July - Campbellville ON (0 miles on the CB, maybe 2 miles on a Montesa 4RT...)

"Lay-low Sanz"

Turns out I'm not as good on a Trials bike as I thought I might be... To be fair, it's the first time I'd ever ridden a pukka Trials bike (with it's gear lever somewhere near the front tyre - what's that about?!), and I was riding it over some pretty technical obstacles too - the kind of stuff you usually ride around on an ADV or dual-sport bike. But this is something I'm going to need to practice a little more I think...

I do love Trials bikes though!

Otherwise, the first day of the 2017 Overland Adventure Rally (hosted by Lawrence Hacking - legendary Canadian Dakar Rally racer) was a surprisingly low-key affair - primarily focussed on the vendors and bike importers/dealers setting up their booths, and the early birds getting a few hour's rider training in - hence the opportunity for me to borrow one of their Trials bikes and have a play in the woods ;o)

However, as the afternoon arrived, so too did an increasing number of attendees - and by the time the evening presentations began, the hotel car-park was full of all manner of motorcycles - including (in no particular order), a CB500X with a huge guitar amp attached, a KLR with a pair of canoe floats attached, and a KTM 690 with a dog attached (well, technically just laying along the tank - that's how he travels!), interspersed amongst the largest number of [new] Africa Twins I have ever seen assembled in one place... move over BMW, your rein (in Canada at least) is over! Certainly I think Lawrence needs to change the design on his event T-shirt for next year!


photo. Canadian singer-songwriter Cassie Tyers (www.cassietyers.com) was the dinner entertainment each evening - she arrived on her CB500X with all her sound gear strapped to the bike! (I think we need to come up with a bespoke luggage set-up for you ;o)

From a personal perspective, I finally got to meet a long-time email and internet buddy Patrick Trahan - another [French] Canadian Dakar rider, who more recently has been championing the Honda CRF250L as a viable budget rally bike (see CRF250L Rally) - initially with his own conversion, and earlier this year successfully campaigned the Hellas Rally in Greece on the new official CRF250L 'Rally' model with only minimal additional preparation.


photo. working closely with Honda Canada, Patrick Trahan was onboard a new Africa Twin as his 'company wheels' this weekend...

Patrick was the headline presenter on the Friday night, and despite some tech issues with his slide-show, in true rally-rider style this didn't phase him at all, and instead he kept us all captivated with a charismatic tale of his first rally experience back in 1998.

cont.

Day 26: Saturday 8th July - Campbellville ON loop (177 miles)

"Red rockets"

The format of the Saturday ride-out was simple enough - there was a choice of route (with optional more technical off-road sections) to a lunch stop and back again, available as a GPS track download. Easy! Some participants chose to ride their route in groups, others alone or in pairs... there were no hard and fast rules.


photo. Lawrence hosted the ride-out briefing after breakfast... yes, that's Oliver 'Brokentooth's KLR canoe in the foreground (with a CCM GP450 on it for the show).

Patrick and I had chosen to ride the 'hard' route together - primarily as I think we both fancied having a go on each other's bike...


photo. Patrick is a huge fan of a smaller bike in general, and it was the first time he'd ridden a LEVEL 3 converted CB500X...


photo. That's a frame-grab of me on the Africa Twin - I didn't realise Patrick had pressed record on my GoPro during the ride!


photo. The Saturday ride route took in a mix of minor paved roads, gravel tracks and some fun two-track and more rocky trails...


photo. Throughout the weekend my CB was often referred to as the 'little brother' to the Africa Twin... can't think why... ;o)


photo. A guest of honour this year was Alfonso 'Poncho' Alonzo from Baja California - who has been instrumental in getting the annual Baja Rally up and running in recent years, and someone I'm proud to call a personal friend.

We'd had a real laugh all day - ragging our own bikes and each others (where appropriate of course), and at one point I even hit a personal best of 135kph (85 miles an hour) on dirt... The lunch stop was a relaxed affair, with a couple of 'riding challenges' laid on to amuse the assembled throng, and an opportunity to earn extra raffle tickets which would be part of this evening's entertainment...

I would also play a small part in the Saturday schedule - being on at 8pm I was effectively the 'warm up' act for Lawrence to host the prize giving, before our headline guest for this year - the charismatic Spanish round-the-world adventurer and Youtube blogger Charly Sinewan (who'd been frantically putting together a summary video [in English] throughout the weekend!) - took to the stage to entertain us all to the end...

A bunch of us then retired to the bar, and quite honestly, I don't know exactly what time it was I eventually headed to bed... all I know is it had been a fabulous weekend!

But of course in just a few hours, it would now be time to head home again...

More soon!

Jenny x

Day 27: Sunday 9th July - Campbellville ON to Youngstown OH (329 miles)

"A [Lake] Erie goodbye..."

The journey towards Niagara Falls was tedious. Three lanes of traffic crawling around the bay, and coming to a standstill at every intersection.

Charly (Sinewan) and Poncho had planned to spend the Sunday sightseeing, and as I was heading south in the same direction, elected to join them - riding along behind their car through the Sunday lunchtime traffic - as I quite fancied seeing what all this waterfall fuss was about too.

However, after an hour or more of stop-start riding in the midday sun, I pulled alongside, waved an apologetic goodbye through the window, and made a bee-line inland for the hills, following my GPS for an alternative route away from all this chaos.


photo. hwy 20 turned out to be a far more appealing route towards Niagara Falls, rather than sitting in the traffic on the Queen Elizabeth Way around the edge of Lake Ontario.

I have to admit, I fear in the past I must have always confused Niagara Falls with Victoria Falls... (, wrong continent - ed). I had imagined this huge waterfall in a remote location, surrounded by forest, with few tourists and plenty of opportunity to take all the time you like in contemplation of the power of nature and our comparative insignificance in the world... but it turns out Niagara Falls is like a shabby Las Vegas with a huge hole in the ground.

Of course I'd subsequently googled Niagara Falls prior to starting this trip - and when I realised how close it was the Overland Adventure Rally venue (and the US border) quickly incorporated into my ongoing itinerary - so I was aware that there were effectively two huge cities on either side of the river... but still I wasn't prepared for just how 'touristy' it turned out to be.


photo. I'm not sure how many people bother to photograph this side of Niagara Falls!

Yes, I realise that once again I was visiting a major International tourist attraction on a Sunday afternoon at the hight of summer - but this was ghastly. Countless coaches jostled for position on the parkway, and there was certainly no stopping anywhere other than the official car-park, which would then relieve you of twenty-two Canadian dollars for that dubious pleasure.

Being on a bike I did mount the verge briefly (to snatch that photo above), but actually facing the falls there was no photo opportunity whatsoever, unless you were prepared to make a day of it, park and then walk of course...


photo. The falls themselves are certainly impressive... the overall ambiance slightly less so though.

I resorted to a couple of ride-bys with my helmet cam in an effort to snap some pictures, but if I'm honest, I'd pretty much lost enthusiasm for the whole endeavour by now, and just wanted to get the hell out of there...


photo. This was a fun surprise (in a touristy kind of way) - an old London Routemaster bus, a long way from Oxford Street!

Since the traffic was gridlocked heading north (towards Rainbow Bridge and the closest US border), I ended up abusing my position as a motorcycle rider by bumping over the concrete central reservation and speeding off in the opposite direction...

I really didn't want my last afternoon in Canada to be like this - hectic, frantic and frustrated. Fortunately redemption was found a little further down the Niagara Parkway, away from the madding crowds:


photo. There are some very nice houses along this stretch of the river, and fortunately they are all situated on the opposite side of the road - leaving the bank itself and the associated view clear for everyone to enjoy.

I took a deep breath, prepared for the worst at the Fort Erie border crossing, and was pleasantly surprised how efficient and hassle-free it turned out to be!

Chapter 3​

Over the weekend I'd had a quick noodle at both Google and my paper maps - plotting an outline return-route back across the country. I didn't have a fixed schedule now, other than I wanted to be back in San Jose by the end of the following week, and felt the time in between would be the perfect opportunity to ride some new trails, mixed in with some old favourites - particularly once I'd got a little further west...

It was certainly my intention to take in a few more of the high passes in Colorado (which I figured ought to be clear of snow by this time of year) - and particularly those which I'd had to forfeit during the Trans-Am 500 ride a couple of years before. I also wanted to embark on a more southernly route though Utah - again, to complete a couple of long-distance trails [at elevation] that had also been out of bounds during previous trips. Staying high up in the mountains once I'd got to Utah would be a sensible decision anyway, with temperatures in the desert around 100°F or more at this time of year.

In addition, Google had revealed that the distance between Buffalo NY and Colorado Springs CO was 1566 miles. Having effectively warmed up towards an Iron-Butt ride with a series of high-mileage back-to-back days during the previous week, I briefly considered knocking off a 'Bun Burner' (which is 1500 miles in a maximum 36 hours), which in turn would get me that much closer that much sooner, and therefore maximise the time available in Colorado and beyond.

But it was such a lovely afternoon I could help but continue riding, and effectively forfeit that particular window of opportunity. Instead I elected to abandon the Interstate as soon as possible, and head south and west on a far more scenic route through the New York and Pensilvania countryside, allowing the road to simply unfold before me...



Highway 62 was absolutely food for the soul. Traffic free and swooping though small towns and villages, winding alongside rivers and rural farmland. It reminded me of riding though south western France, and believe me, that is no bad thing! A particularly memorable moment was seeing a group of small Amish children playing together by the roadside; and not long after, I overtook a horse and carriage with a family on board, their children in bonnets.


photo. I considered it was probably time to lube my chain again (having forgotten to do it before I'd leave the hotel this morning), and this roadside stick was the perfect prop!

It was almost dark by the time I hit I80, and I admit it was a relief to be once again back in the land of the sub $50 motel.

cont.

Day 28: Monday 10th July - Youngstown OH to Sweet Springs MO (768 miles)

"Indy 500, and Illinois and Missouri..."

OK, so I might have hustled you a bit yesterday ;o)

It honestly wasn't my intention to ride the 'Bun Burner', but having woken in good time that morning, I realised that if I were pick up I70 at Columbus and take it all the way to Denver before heading south for Colorado Springs, I'd actually still cover 1516 miles - and that ought to be more than enough margin to allow for any odometer inaccuracies.

Some essential online admin meant I was not ready to leave until after 10am, but I figured it would still be worth a shot - particularly as I'd have to stop and try and get some sleep at some point in the next 36 hours; and let's face it - there would be little else to motivate me to ride across the great plains in these next two days.

Because this was an impromptu attempt, I didn't have any paperwork with me - so simply collected a series fuel receipts as I went along - for mile after mile after mile...


photo. There comes a point when you think you'd probably better stop... in this instance, after dark, and 768 miles.

cont.