Chief Joseph Scenic Byway, Wyoming.

This morning the lady on the front desk confirmed time that Beartooth was closed and that Chief Joseph was open. Definitely a bad news, good news story, although as previously mentioned, Chief Joseph required me to retrace my path back to Wyoming. Still, I had heard good reports about that route and the mission was on!

But first, breakfast, post office and petrol. I ordered a cappuccino and was presented with a mug that was 90% froth. My Facebook friends got to see that. Not good. The post office (three postcards on the way, Schatz) and petrol were routine and I reversed my course of the previous day. It turned out to be just over sixty kilometres. I was quite thankful for the bright sunshine of the lower elevation east of the mountains, as the mountains were enveloped in angry looking clouds. As per yesterday, the cross wind was still present and some gusts were very disconcerting, so I traveled at a sedate 55 mph. As the speed limit on Montana country roads is 70, I was overtaken often.

The turn off to Chief Joseph was soon climbing through a number of switchbacks, as I have learned to call them (hairpin bends for everyone else) and there were a number of scenic turnouts. The route is beautiful. What a pity it became darker and overcast as I ascended. The photos are rather dark and I hope to manipulate them when I get home. It was a terrific ride albeit slower than I would usually go because the road was wet in places.

Chief Joseph was a leader of the Nez Perce Indians at the time of the war between them and the US government. The issue was, as usual, that the US had reneged on the terms of two treaties . Chief Joseph eventually tried to flee to Canada via Yellowstone, and this road follows the route he took his people. I may be able to visit the Big Hole National Battlefield tomorrow, where the great battle was fought which precipitated that event.

The Byway ends in a T junction with..... the Beartooth Highway! Now the GPS had let me know that Beartooth was closed, but it got it wrong by seventeen miles! I saw that there was a sign saying that, so I decided that I would do at least some of Beartooth, seeing as I was there. It was brilliant, although very cold, with my thermometer flashing at me 2.5 C, 1.5C, 0C! I proceeded cautiously and stopped for a few photos. Again, a pity they are so dark. I went down to Bear Lake on the dirt road, which was wet. All was well until I noticed some lighter colored mud.... Yikes! Ice! The bike lurched and slid but, with thumping heart, I managed to keep it upright and on the road.  I took my photos and then gingerly went up the road again.

There were no cars because the road was closed to through traffic and there was just the odd Parks vehicle around and they all ignored me. 

About fifteen miles down the road was Cooke City, Montana. It was 1.30 pm and time for lunch. As I dismounted it started sleeting heavily and did not stop. After I had eaten I quickly consulted my weather app and saw that snow was forecast in two hours. I had no intention of being stuck in Cooke City so togged up, knocked the accumulated ice off my saddle and got going, notional destination Gardiner, Montana, which is a small town situated about five miles north of Yellowstone's northern entrance.

This road actually passes through the park and by the time I arrived at the North Eastern entrance my gloves and everything else were soaked. The lady ranger very kindly heeded my suggestion that I not be required to produce my annual pass. The handgrip heaters were the only reason I could keep riding, but I had pretty well decided that I would stop in Gardiner whatever the cost of a room. There was snow and slush on the road and, with my gear soaked (my skin was dry because of the waterproof liners) I was freezing. And what I feared was the clouds or snow descending and causing a whiteout, which would a) force me to stop and b) make me vulnerable to being hit by the car that decided to keep driving. One thing that struck me as I was proceeding through the park at a velocity somewhat in excess of the speed limit, was the smell of sulphur dioxide from the geysers!

At the northern end of the park, Mammoth Springs, the road descends rapidly and then levels on it way to Gardiner. As it descended, it got warmer. Soon it was a balmy 5C! Nevertheless, I pulled into the Best Western, but when I could not get them to charge an acceptable price, I decided, hang them, it's warm, I'm going to Livingston, just an hour up the road.

It was not raining in the valley and soon I was drying out a and making good time. The Best Western here is $55 cheaper and they have even given me a garage for the bike! 

Where to tomorrow? I'm not sure yet. All I I know is, it must be west from Livingston, Montana. The clock is winding down. The trip is in its last days.

Meeteetse, Wyoming. The cowboy bar that has gun shot holes in the walls and 'Panama Red' is the lady with the knife behind the bar.

It is Sunday. I have not been to church since Pennsylvania and I want to go. Doctor Google informs me that the local Presbyterian  Church is PC(USA) so I pass. Liz grew up a Lutheran and we attend that church from time to time so the local Lutheran Church got my vote.

The folk were welcoming and friendly and the service was uplifting. It is a good thing to affirm one's faith by fellowshiping with other believers. After a chat over a cup of coffee I hit the road.

Contrary to yesterday, it was quite balmy with the temperature rising during the day to 21.5 C. But the wind! There were occasions when I was seriously discomfited by the gusts and I did a lot of leaning while riding in a straight line. I passed through Shoshoni and Thermopolis and continued to Meeteetse for my lunch stop; and decided to give my custom to the Cowboy Bar Established 1873. The lady bartender was a tough looking character, carrying a great big knife on her hip.. After lunch I asked her about it and she proudly showed it to me. It was a gift from her husband. She informed me that she carried  .44 revolver and under the bar had a billy club and a taser. Apparently it gets quite rough in there at times. She also pointed out bullet holes in the wall and ceiling. Her name was Panama Red and I treated her with extra respect!

I thought that having had a chicken salad for lunch I could afford a dessert and went over the road to a rather nice chocolate shop. At $1.75 it was an expensive mouthful.

I went through Cody, Wyoming. Tourist trap.

On the turn off to Red Lodge I noticed some derelict buildings. It was the site of the Smith Mine, which closed in 1943 after Montana's worst ever mining disaster. 74 dead and three survivors. The buildings remain, abandoned, as a memorial to them.

Soon I was in Red Lodge Montana and having my expectations of riding the Beartooth Highway dampened. Perhaps my faith, expressed by riding two days from Utah to Montana, was not enough. This may become clearer tomorrow morning. A possible alternative is the Chief Joseph scenic byway, but it involves me retracing my path 50 kms.

Red Lodge is very pretty and very rural. I found a deer wandering the streets. Have a look at the photos.

Dinner at the Pollard Hotel was really interesting as I had a long discussion with some local folk, which was great fun. I am sorry I didn't get their names, except for Emma, the bartender. Smart, smart girl!

South Pass Wyoming, before Lander. Red Canyon (Another one)

In Vernal the day dawned bright and clear, but pretty cold, only 4C, it having been below zero overnight. The forecasts for the towns on the way to Montana were showing no precipitation although some wind was expected. Bear Tooth Highway was still showing on the highway information site as closed but I reckon it will reopen by Monday. Putting my faith in the forecasts and my assessment of what will happen, I decided I would proceed north. I would like to mention once more the really good experience I had at the Weston Plaza Hotel. It is family owned and run and it is clear that they care and take pride in their offering.

As I rode out of Vernal, I was very happy to see the sky over the mountains was clear, compared to the lowering clouds that had been present the day before. Soon  the road started rising and the temperature started dropping. As it hit 2C the display started flashing, warning of the potential for ice on the road. I slowed down and took it easier on the bends, and slowed again when it dropped further to freezing point. Urrrr.... A bit dicey, but also I was getting seriously cold.

However, the road then descended to the Flaming Gorge Dam, which is a National Recreation Area. Hydro electricity is also generated. I had heard while in Vernal that the Sheep Creek Geological Loop offered great scenery and would be very quiet. Both these statements proved correct. With much snow at the higher altitudes and being much warmer lower down, the contrast in vegetation was remarkable .The loop is situated in the Uinta Range, the only range in the USA who h runs east-west, and where one can see evidence of the Uinta fault. There are also several different types of rock which must be of interest to some people. Leaving the Loop and Flaming Gorge, I had to go some miles out of my way. That took me through miles of rock formations, each of which had fossils of varying types. Again, of interest to others.

A quick Mexican lunch in Rock Springs helped me warm up a bit after which is was again going North. The wind was blowing strongly and was annoying, not just because it affected the handling of the bike, but because it was cold! At Farson the road branched off to Lander, but there was a diner/shop right there so I stopped for coffee and also put on a long sleeve merino u cef layer and the neck warmer that Liz insisted on leaving with me. Was I grateful??

When getting g ready to leave, a few folk emerged from the diner and proceeded to tell me it was 32F on South Pass with snow blowing across the road. Now a little anxious, I proceeded up towards the pass with caution. Well, either they lied, or things had drastically improved. apart from the stiff cross-wind, there was nothing to worry about.

On today's ride I was continually entranced and impressed by the scenery. The rock formations both as to color and complexity were one thing, but the presence of the snow added a different dimension of beauty. Northern Utah and southern Wyoming are desert, receiving less than eleven inches of moisture per annum, so much of it is treeless,  it where there were trees, eg near the Flaming Gorge, it was a spectacle to ride along and see the snow falling from the branches.

Having made reasonable time despite the number of stops, I Rea he'd Lander at about 4pm and so decided to push on to Riverton. In the morning I will once again review the status of Bear Tooth Highway  but will regardless continue north it needs to be open by Tuesday.
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A storm in the hills outside Vernal, Utah. It is a photo, not a painting.

This morning I woke resolved to ride to Rock Springs Wyoming, to stay the night and await the expected improvement in the weather. On my way to breakfast two of the ladies that work here said I should not miss the Flaming Gorge Dam, halfway to Rock Springs. It sounded good to me, but it was overcast and raining, making good photos very difficult. It wasn't too hard to decide to stay put for another night. After lunch I emerged from my room and ventured into the town. As I rode in, I saw these low clouds over the mountains, as pictured above and felt that I had made the correct decision to stay another night. The various weather reports for towns along my intended route support it, too.

My first visit was the the small, but very interesting Western Heritage Museum. It covers a lot of ground and is well worth a visit. I particularly liked the sequential photos of every sheriff the town has had, and the dolls of each first lady of the USA. 

A  coffee shop on the nearby main street was recommended to me and while my order was being prepared I took a short walk. It turns out that in its early days, Vernal was the stomping ground of many outlaws, some extremely notorious eg Butch Cassidy. And - not dissimilar to Australia - they promote it! But otherwise, not much goes on in Vernal, Utah. It is really a service town for the oil industry.

After a latte (too milky) and a rather tasty almond and poppy seed muffin, I was wending my way back to the hotel on a side street when I noticed ahead a very tall church steeple. Being Utah, this is Mormon country, and I had read that in Verbal they have, unusually for a small place, a Mormon Temple. A photo appears on the photo tab.

Then I went to the CAL Ranch store. I am thinking of buying some cowboy chaps which I can wear over my jeans for summer riding. No joy here, but it is my kind of store. See the photo on the photo tab and you will understand why!

Back to the hotel as it was looking very gray and threatening and I did not think I would be happy if I got wet and cold. 

A word about the hotel, the Weston Plaza. It is an older property, but under a new name and management and it does not seem to be part of a national chain. The room is very spacious and comfortable, clean as a whistle, staff that cannot do enough for one and....  cheaper than the standard I judge by, Best Western. 

The Australian Rules Football Grand Final is to be played in a few hours. Maybe I can find it on the cable TV. But the forecasts up north are looking promising and I will make an early start, planning on stopping in Lander, Wyoming tomorrow night.

On Colorado 82, on the approach to Independence Pass. That is Mount Elbert in the background.

The morning dawned bright and clear in Leadville, Colorado. And freezing. It was sub-zero overnight and when I went out to the bike it was only 4C and there was frost on the bike cover. As I was loading the bike some other BMW riders emerged from the motel and we had quite a long chat about things. They had come over Independence Pass the day before and gave me some useful advice, such as warning me that on the Aspen side the road was essentially just one car wide in many places. The chap who was the natural leader, Karl, B, has a really interesting job: he makes rocket engines for people who fly to the edge of space as a hobby. Actually, !!! His company has an association with an Australian outfit and I am recording it here so I can research it later. Www.ausrocketry.com.au. Morris M in Leesville, you should meet this chap.

After mutual well wishes I went back into Leadville to take some photos. There are many old buildings, houses and churches which are very attractive. An aspect of the houses that seems unique to Leadville is the colorful and often quite intricate color schemes that are favoured. They also have a large mining museum and Hall of Fame, house in a magnificent old house, it looks like. Really huge. I was also impressed that the residents have in their backyard a panoramic view of the Rockies, with Mount Elbert as the most prominent feature. They are now snow-capped and just beautiful.

On with the main business of the day: riding over Independence Pass. One never tires of riding through the Rockies and its foothills. Be they green or arid, there is always something to please the eye or amaze the mind' often both simultaneously. Today was no different. I have been encouraged to take the iconic photo of the bike within the American landscape, which will be the cover of the intended photo album. The photo above may fit the bill. It is one of the most stunning views of the trip. The cars on the road were just about queued up to take photos.

The ride to the top of the pass is marked by a gradual ascent initially and then suddenly, up you go. There are several extra slow speed hairpins and few turnouts. The top has a short walk to a viewing point, where a Hollander Aernoud wearing shorts in the freezing weather, asked me to take a photo of him and his wife. We had a bit of a chat and he seemed very decent. He is obviously very tough. It was icy up there, literally!

I took the obligatory shot of the bike under the sign indicating the name of the pass, the elevation and the fact that it is the Continental Divide. A few other folk seemed quite impressed and took photos of the bike as well. One kind chap offered to take a shot if me with the bike and the iPhone was used for that. It has been posted on my Facebook.

Down the other side and yep, seriously narrow road. Many trees were fallen from the rocks that had been dislodged by the recent wet weather. I took it slowly as snow melt was on the road down to about 9,000 feet, but soon I was riding into Aspen.

This is a really pretty place, but here in a tiny town one finds designer clothing stores! The Hollywood crowd have clearly made this pretty town their own. Lunch there was really pleasant but a little pricey. Still, sitting under an umbrella in the autumn sun was very pleasant.

Pressing in, I eventually hit the road from Carbondale to Glenwood Springs, which I had traveled with Liz. I happened to look over my left shoulder ad I approached Carbondale and noticed snow-capped Mount Sopris stands like a remote guardian over the town. Very pretty. But as I rode into Glenwood Springs I felt a surge of nostalgia, remembering how not all that long ago Liz had been with me on that very road.

Getting to Grand Junction, my stopping place for the night,  was either on I70 for a distance of about 68 miles, or on the byways for more than twice that. An easy decision. It is a very picturesque drive for an interstate, but today I had to battle cross winds gusting up to 50mph. To manage it better, I would tuck myself in behind a big truck.

Grand Junction is named for the confluence of the Colorado and Gunnison rivers. On my brief look at downtown it is a really attractive place. I will take some photos tomorrow.

The big issue now is the weather. Thursday and Friday are lining up with snow storms and many roads will be closed, perhaps into next week. I will need to decide, perhaps as early as tomorrow, whether to turn north, or head west.

The first snow of the winter. Rocky Mountains outside Leadville Colorado.

John's alarm went off at five am, but as is so often the case, one always sleeps fitfully the night before a trip, so we were both awake. He left in plenty of time to get to the airport bus and some of you may have noticed his comment on the blog indicating he made it safely to Los Angeles.

Because I intended to visit BMW Motorcycles Denver and they only opened at nine, I dawdled in getting ready and enjoyed the unusual time of leisure, using it to look ahead for accommodation. I also spent quite some time looking at the weather forecasts and trying to figure out potential routes back to Portland. The weather we had fled from in Gunnison had dropped snow on the mountains down to about ten thousand feet, but later this week it may get down to six thousand feet, and lie up to twenty four inches deep 'if the storm sets rights' as the special advisories say.

Without having made a decision I went down to BMW to acquire a few small items I needed. They need a lesson in customer service, those guys in Spares. So I took my things and headed for the hills. Well, mountains. And what a sight greeted me as I swung west. The range was beautifully powdered with the snow of Sunday, rising majestically along the horizon. Taking the byways to Leadville was a distance of over 170 miles so I stuck with the interstate until twenty miles to go, stopping in Georgetown for a break and Lake Dillon for lunch. (Fantastic mushroom and cheese burger). 

One thing that Colorado seems to have plenty of is historic steam trains. Durango, Georgetown, Chama and there is one in Leadville, too. And there are more. I am told that Chama is out of this world.

And so off the interstate for the last twenty miles to Leadville, with the roads sweeping around the mountain bends, with snow everywhere above 10,000 feet. Magical! I checked in to the motel and rested, trying to make up for the night before.

I roused myself to go into the town (very pretty) to have dinner. It was 14 C when I left at 6.30 pm and when I returned a little over an hour later it was down to 7C. Overnight forecast is for zero!

Tomorrow I will ride Independence Pass (12,095 feet) and probably be compelled to make a decision on which way to go.  Watch this space

Today was meant to be a quiet day and to the extent that bike riding was minimal, that was so. We took a short spin to the post office to post John's bike gear back to Australia and I ran a quick errand to a shopping center not far away. John took himself off to the transport museum and I otherwise begged in the hotel.

The 16th Street Mall is where it all happens.

I cleaned my bike yesterday and predicted it would rain today. Too easy a prophesy. The weather forecast concurred and we resolved that an early start the next morning should assist in achieving the objective of staying dry. The weather was coming from the south west and we were heading east and north.

Up with the sparrows, we observed very dark clouds heading our way. The Special Advisory spoke about snow and hail and our plans for breakfast in Gunnison were quickly abandoned in favour of an immediate departure and a stop in Salida Colorado. While putting on helmets sand gloves the rain started falling and with the rising sun in our eyes and a storm coming down our backs, we hightailed it out of the town.

We quickly made clear weather but as the road bent somewhat south, we had to keep a close eye on a very black storm a couple of miles to our right. The road eventually straightened to the east and we had some good bends ascending and descending the Monarch Pass before arriving at Salida where we enjoyed a cooked breakfast.

Remembering the ride from Mono Ontario to Scranton Pennsylvania some four weeks earlier, we did not dally over breakfast and proceeded smartly up Co. 291, all the while glancing ahead and to our left. As good fortune would have it, every time we thought we were in for a soaking, the road bent away. 

The road was very busy, and we assumed folk were cutting their weekends short to head home because of the weather. Overtaking queues of traffic is so much easier on a powerful bike.

Thus we arrived at our hotel in Denver in good time. We find our washing, some research on things too do and walked to the light rail, the RTD to ride to down town. The RTD cost $4.00 each way. It is modern and clean and an easy ride. From the terminus at Union Station there are many free shuttle buses that take passengers up and down the 16th Street Mall. It is very pretty, with many shops and restaurants set off by a treed median where people sit on chairs and survey the passing parade. The only traffic permitted are the free buyers, horse drawn cabs and bicycles. It is long and, even on a Sunday, busy.

John and I had a decent dinner, walked back to the station and the light rail was taking us back to our station Umm,not quite. In between stations the lights flicker and fail and we glide to a halt. Power failure. It lasted the best part of ninety minutes.

With decent WiFi, I have been uploading photos from the past couple of days. I will write more on Denver tomorrow and upload more photos.

The Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, Colorado. No one has ever mentioned it to me.

The plan for today was to visit the Black Canyon. I had not heard of it until I found it on the internet when sorting the itinerary and John heard about it from me. We have both had people saying, visit the Grand Canyon, Bryce Canyon (check!) Zion etc etc, but no one had ever mentioned the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. But here we were and we were going!

It was chilly when we left at 9.00 am and we were thankful of our linings. Marveling once again at the crisp, blue morning sky, I enjoyed the bends as we headed west for the Blue Mesa Dam where we would cross to the north bank of the Gunnison River. I had been warned about the twisty road, but my expectations were pleasantly exceeded. If the Black Canyon is not very busy on the main, south side, it is even less so on the north, hence there was little traffic to worry about. Lovely! The road was quite high, and there were a few magnificent views which we stopped to admire. The expansiveness, the massiveness of the views is almost overwhelming.

The small town of Crawford is a few miles beyond the turn off to the north rim of the canyon and we popped in there for an early lunch as there are no catering facilities within the National Park. Also in the diner was a group of men who were clearly hunters. Their clothing variously reflected membership of the National Rifle Association and their support for the Second Amendment. I feel right at home in the South and Midwest, but the diet is getting to me a bit. And it is definitely getting to my waistline!

Lunch over, we retraced our route to the north rim turnoff and had about six miles of gravel road to traverse at the end. The bike handled it with aplomb but I must concede it was in good condition. Parking the bike, it was only a short walk through the sage brush, Utah Junipers and Piñon Pines to the first view point. As we emerged from the trees, my fist word was 'wow!', a word I repeated numerous times while we stood there. In front of us was the Painted Wall, rising nearly two thousand feet from the canyon floor with thick bands of pink granite flowing diagonally across the face. The south rim is less than a thousand feet away on the other side, atop a vertical drop of similar magnitude. John and I struggled for words to describe the immensity of what we were looking at. Raw power, majestic, immense. As we walked away from it to the next viewing point, I felt quite emotional about what an experience it was. As I was to read later, this is not unusual. 

The view from Wolf's Creek Pass, Colorado.

Today dawned crisp and clear. As we walked into the village for breakfast, we could see on the eastern horizon the San Juan Mountains silhouetted against the brilliant blue morning sky. In the foreground, a bank of fog was slowly drifting across the landscape. The grass was glistening with the heavy dew and the San Juan River rushed under the bridge. A stunning morning.

Breakfast done and the fog burnt away by the ascending sun, we donned our gear, now supplemented with liners, filled up with gas and made tracks towards South Fork Colorado, where we would turn north on Route 149, well known as the Silver Thread Scenic Byway.

On route there, we had to ascend Wolf's Creek Pass, which tops out just short of 11,000 feet. Just as I emerged from a very nice corner, I felt John's hand on my right shoulder, the agreed signal that he wanted to stop. I had been so concentrating on the corner I had been oblivious to the Treasure Falls. We turned around, made the stop and took our photos of this very pretty feature. Back on the pass I noticed from my GPS that there was a hairpin bend coming up. I surmised that there would be a turnout with a view and was not disappointed. Indeed, we were rewarded with a view that was clearly created in Heaven. Just beautiful. A little bonus was the number of tiny squirrels scampering around, inquisitive and quite unafraid.

We stopped a few times on the easy to South Fork, marveling at the majestic scenery. This was to be the case for most of the ride.

The morning halt was called at South Fork, at Handlebar Donuts. I had  bear claw. It was as large as a Rocky Mountain boulder with a calorie count to match. According to the proprietor, 2,500. Gulp! I determined that I would have salad for lunch.

The Americans have put great effort into identifying the most scenic routes across the country. These have been well documented band there are a number of websites that provide the traveler with all kinds of information about them. The roads are usually sealed and always worth traveling. They can be slow and are often indirect. They are not for people in a hurry. Many highlights of this trip have come from riding the Scenic Byways of America.

And so to Route 149, Silver Thread. For many miles the road travels alongside the Rio Grande, which is, after the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, the third longest river in the USA. It varies between rushing through narrow valleys and cutting slow meanders in the plains between the mountains.The road rises steeply, in some places cut into the side of the mountain, and plunges into valleys the other side. There were many turn outs and pull offs affording spectacles that the visitor never tires of, with a variety of hill and dale, peak and pastures. Not to be omitted from mention are the many sweeping bends to delight the motorcyclist! 

At one viewpoint we took in Red Mountain, Mount Uncompahgre and the side of a huge landslide! And as we were leaving, John spotted two very large military aircraft flying in formation high above us. Perhaps Starlifters. At many places we saw the aspen trees beginning to turn gold with the approach of Autumn, but sadly also observed the many thousands of dead trees that have infested with the pine beetle, especially going up the nearly 12,000 foot Slumgullion pass.

Our lunch break was taken in Lake City. There were many fine old houses and other buildings which seem to be in excellent repair.

Today's ride was three and a quarter hours, so a little shorter than 'standard' but the beauty was so engrossing we barely noticed the time go by. Please have a look at the photos page. My words are inadequate to describe what we saw.