Last nights hotel in Rapd City was the pitts, I wasn't sorry to pack the bike and leave earlier than usual this morning. I stopped off in Sturgis; it's a quiet little town without a Bazillion bikers. Too early to buy a T-shirt so I headed west; I would hit the northwest corner of Wyoming today, then on into Montana.
The Black Hills were on fire outside of Gillette; smoke everywhere. I had filled up in Sturgis, and knew I had plenty of gas to get to Sheridan...at least I thought I did. It's fairly remote along 90, services are few and far between. I wanted to get a picture of the Big Horn Mountains in the distance, so I exited at a spot where they were working on the bridge/exit area. What I didn't realize was there was no way to get back on the exit going west, only east. So now I'm headed back to where I came from with very little gas. Not happy. And I had to pee; I decided I would risk stopping at the remote looking rest stop that services both sides of the Interstate. If I'm going to have to push my bike, or wait for AAA, I don't want to have a full bladder!
There were two bikes at the rest stop, I park d and the guy asked me 'which way you headed?' I mentioned I was headed west but got turned around, headed back east to look for gas. The girl came out then, and said 'we have gas!' Pointing to the little holder on the back of her bike that held a gallon of gas. She had a much smaller bike, was from Canada, and understood the need to carry her own gas! I had a similar experience on the north shore of Lake Superior in Ontario, and out in West Texas. Richard, the guy, emptied the gas can into my tank, I tried to at least pay for the gas, they wouldn't have it, so I promised to 'pay it forward.' I'm always amazed at the kindness I experience while traveling - especially from fellow bikers. I wished Richard and Denise safe travels, thanked them again, and got back on track to 90west.
This corner of Wyoming is vast, wide open, and gently rolling. Very few services or turnouts. The weather stays cool and I ride most of the morning with my heavy leather jacket. I pass the junction for the scenic byway to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone, it's been years since I've been there, gorgeous place. My time is running short however, for when I have to meet Paul in Seattle. I'm starting to feel like this last leg of the trip is a full time job. Ironically, I could have left a week earlier than I did, and would have given myself more leisure time.
I cross the Little Bighorn River and see signs for the actual battlefield. It was packed, you would think it was summer and the 100th Anniversary of the National Parks or something. I paid my fee and declined to go to the visitors center, choosing instead to cruise the asphalt path through the battlefield. Small white tombstones dot the hillside indicating where a US Soldier of the 7th Calvary died. There are a few brown stones as well, marking where a Native American Indian died. The battle was fiercely fought by Lakota, northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho Indians , along with General Custers 7th Calvary. It would be Custers last stand, he got his ass kicked by the likes of Crazy Horse. The sun was hot, I snapped a few pix and moved on down the road through the Crow Indian Reservation. A huge reservation, with dilapidated buildings, decrepit mobile homes littering the hillside. Casinos sit sadly in the hot sun, their neon flashing garishly. Just like so many other reservations across the country.
I stopped at a great HD dealership outside of Billings MT...had to get a shirt since I missed out on all the shirts in SD. The Yellowstone River meanders along 90 for most of the ride to Bozeman. I was whipped, nearly 600 miles today, only to find Bozeman packed w tourists. I pick the Days Inn, there are a dozen off this exit, thinking it wouldn't t be so difficult finding a room. They literally had one left.
I'm ready for a Rocky Mountain high tomorrow, then across Idaho and into Washington.
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