Skip to main content

Summer Road Trip 2016-Day Seven

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.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Plan? What Plan?

"Embrace uncertainty. Some of the most beautiful chapters in our lives won't have titles until much later." In the last few months I've been asked from several readers and followers, 'How do you plan your trips?' I also see the question asked numerous times (like over and over and over and over...) on the various biker-related groups on social media.  Penny Tours I confess: I'm not much of a planner! I ride in the spirit of the intrepid Bessie Stringfield, a pioneer of the sport of motorcycling who in 1930 became the first black woman to ride solo across the U.S.. Bessie was notorious for her 'Penny Tours.' She would toss a penny in the air and wherever it landed on her map of the U.S.....that is the direction she would travel. And yes; I've done the Penny Tour many times. Just a few weeks ago in Indiana; I had a 'free' day between events and tossed the penny on the map of Indiana. It landed in the northern part of the state near the
2 comments
Read more

Summer Road Trip 2014_Final Thoughts

I awoke Friday morning exhausted; as if someone had put on boxing gloves and gently but consistently pummeled me from head to toe. I dreaded the long journey ahead of us. Since arriving in Indiana early Wednesday morning, it had been   a whirlwind of responsibilities. Mine were minimal compared to what my brother and sister had already had to do to arrange the funeral, tie up loose ends, and cover all the bases that need covering when a parent dies. After the service and dinner at the church, I think we all felt a foreboding. Our Grandparents were gone,   our Mom was gone, our Dad was gone…..who does the family gather around from this point forward? We were all at loose ends. The trip back to Florida would be another ‘get on the super slab and ride’ kinda trip….the worst. I-75 South is congested with traffic, and the Weather Gods were not going to be in our favor today.   We gulped a cup of coffee, my brother gave me a hug and we TRIED to slip out quietly…
3 comments
Read more

Summer Road Trip 2014_Day Eight: Life is Short

The shrill sound of my cell phone at 4am Mountain Time jolted me from a deep, tired sleep. It was my brother delivering the startling news that our Dad was dead. We had just arrived in Colorado Springs, my daughter had just arrived in Denver where my Niece lives. One deliberate (or random) act can change the course of life itself. He called 911, laid down in the bed he had shared with my Mother for nearly 50 years, placed the .22 pistol under his chin, and chose to end his life, leaving those of us who love him to wonder 'why?' It is impossible to place logic on such a selfish, illogical act.  I was speechless when my Brother delivered the news, he too was in such shock that the details came over the wireless connection as matter-of-fact. My Dad was a man who seemingly had it all; a loving family, three successful children, six awesome grandchildren, a comfortable retirement, a nice home, a dedicated church family, and good health. He left a note, he left detailed instructi
2 comments
Read more