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This story appeared as a two-part piece, appearing in the
August and September 2005 issues of Roadbike Magazine. The first
article covered the the Grand Teton-Yellowstone visit, and second the ride
through Montana and Idaho. This is the piece as originally written with
both combined. Unfortunately, Cruise America has since stopped renting
motorcycles - guess
I'll have to ride my own bike next time. The Road Goes on
Forever
Touring The Grand Tetons, Yellowstone, Montana and Idaho, July 2002
I have logged many a mile
touring the Southeastern United States, from Florida to the North Carolina Outer
Bank Islands to the Blue Ridge Parkway and North Georgia. Ever since I got back on
a motorcycle, I have wanted to travel the Western US, but lack of time, funds or opportunity always
caused having to postpone the idea for another
year. This year, however, everything fell into place for the dream to
come true, and the July 4th holiday week found myself and "significant
other" Lora Riley on a plane to Salt Lake City, where we had reserved a Honda Goldwing from Cruise America for five days of touring the wild west.
The plan was to arrive in Salt
Lake City on the evening of July 2nd, pick up the bike on the morning of the
third and return it on the eighth. Our choice of direction and distance from
Salt Lake would depend on what promised the most favorable weather conditions
for an enjoyable vacation. With the weather report promising warm and dry for
the week, we decided to
head north to Yellowstone National Park then into Montana and Idaho.
Weather in Atlanta was
typical for summer, hot and humid with a chance for afternoon or evening
thunderstorms, and we arrived at the airport just in time to have our 7 PM
flight delayed for bad weather. Lora had her shoes checked three times enroute
to the gate, while my choice of footwear apparently didn't look near the threat,
and I stood back to chuckle at her embarrassment. The plane finally got off the
ground at about 9:30 PM, and with the 3 hour flight, baggage collection and
hailing a cab, we didn't arrive at our hotel until well after 11 PM local time,
or 2 AM EST - a long travel day.
Upon arrival the next
morning at the Cruise America location on State Street in
Salt Lake, we were given a brand new champagne silver Goldwing with 4 miles on
the odometer. A gorgeous bike. I had test ridden an older model Goldwing some
years ago, but hadn't really spent any significant time on one before. My own
motorcycle weighs in at a bit over 500 pounds dry, and I found the transition to
a 1000 pound motorcycle (bike plus passenger and packed weight) to be a bit of a
learning experience for the first few days. Slow speed maneuvers took some
getting used to, but once moving faster than 5 mph the bike w as a breeze to
handle
The planned route was to
take Hwy 89 north to Jackson Hole/Grand Teton/Yellowstone, to see the national
parks for the first two days. After that, we would travel across the western
portion of Montana into Idaho, to ride as many of the well-known scenic highways
as remaining time would allow. Our first day's progress was slowed north
of Ogden, Utah by road construction on Hwy 89. What we found was not your normal
highway construction. At two different areas south of Bear Lake, the highway was
twice reduced to a gravel road for several miles at a time, making the ride
treacherous, requiring speeds less than 15 mph. That I was a novice riding a
motorcycle of this size made the experience that much more unnerving. Near
Arctic, Wyoming, going through a third section of gravel road, we were treated
to a water truck wetting down the gravel and dirt immediately in front of us,
making conditions even worse. At one point, I felt the rear tire lose traction,
and for a moment thought we would end up in the dirt. Fortunately, we made it
through without incident, but this is some advice for those wishing to tour out
here - check the internet for the current state of construction work on state
highways. Many states have websites that allow you to check road construction
status. Once past the construction areas, highway 89 is a beautiful road -
plenty of sweeping curves with a low challenge factor, and great scenery all
around. The Bear Lake area is a definite highlight here.
We reached Jackson Hole,
Wyoming after 7 hours and approximate 270 miles of riding, arriving about 7:30
PM. Due to the July 4th holiday, available hotel rooms were scarce and at a
price premium, but we found a room on our second stop. The Red Lion Wyoming Inn
is one of the more "up-scale" hotels in this well-known resort area, and offers
a very rustic décor with first class service and amenities. You pay a premium
price for it, but if - as in our case - you've been a bit harried on your first
day's adventures, you don't mind a little pampering. We were on vacation, and
glad to find such a great hotel on a busy holiday weekend.
The next morning it was
off for a ride through the Grand Tetons and on to Yellowstone Park. After awhile
you run out of adjectives to describe how incredible the scenery really is. If
you have never traveled out here, no amount of "description" will prepare you for
the vastness of scale that is everywhere apparent in open areas of the western
US. The Appalachians are pretty, but in this man's opinion, they don't hold a
candle to the impressiveness of the Rockies. The Grand Tetons jut up out of a
5000-foot plateau laid out around the mountain range, w hich only serves to
reinforce the immense sense of scale. Most of this range is above the tree line
and highlighted by permafrost, with their 12,000 plus foot naked slate-gray
jagged peaks contrasting against a clear blue sky, rendered a deeper hue by
virtue of the thinner atmosphere. The side road off
 of Hwy 89 up to Jenny Lake
is a "must see", where the lake works as a massive reflecting pool to only
enhance the already spectacular view. Lora had never visited this area of the
country before,
and I know she was wide-eyed taking it all in. As for me, the last time I had
been here was in the late 70s, and I had forgotten what a spectacular sight
these mountains were. What a treat to be back.
The ride on Highway 89
continued on into Yellowstone National Park. The spectacular scenery of the
highway is owed to the continually changing viewing angle of the Grand Tetons
and the lake in front of them all the way to the south entry of the park. For
being in relatively close proximity to each other, the two parks are
considerably different. Where the attraction of the Grand Tetons is their stark
features and remote nature, the attraction of Yellowstone was its more
"intimate" feeling, allowing close views of the hot springs and geysers, lakes
and waterfalls, and wildlife. The animal life here includes Deer and Elk, Moose,
Buffalo and Bald Eagles, which might be seen at any time in the park. Simply
looking for groups of cars stopped at the side of the road and vacationers
pointing and taking photographs is a sure sign that s ome
species of park wildlife has been sighted near the roadside.
Lora had made
reservations for us at the Days Inn in the town of West Yellowstone for that
evening, so the plan for the day was to ride around the southwestern side of the
park, take in Old Faithful and the Shoshone Geyser Basin. If time allowed we
would also ride across the center of the park to see the Upper and Lower Falls
in the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. Unfortunately, roadwork
was also being done inside the park, specifically between Madison and the Norris
Visitors center on Hwy 20, which also reduced this road surface to loose gravel.
This made ri ding to the eastern side of the park via Hwy 20
another treacherous undertaking. Having already had my touch and go experiences
on Hwy 89 earlier in the weekend, I wanted to avoid pushing our luck, so we
opted to call it a night and check into the hotel in West Yellowstone. Due to
the condition of the road, which would have allowed easy access to the eastern
side of the park, we would have to do a bit of reworking the route for the next
day. It was July 4th, and several fireworks displays around the area were
planned for the evening, but after the long day's ride and a full meal, we opted
to call it a night. I could hear fireworks in the distance as I drifted off to
sleep.
The next morning we
decided on an ambitious riding day, traveling back around the southern end of
the park to take the circular one hundred ten-mile ride to the north entrance,
and avoiding the road construction. We would see most of Yellowstone before
leaving, but exit the park on the north end rather than taking the planned
western exit to cross Montana, extending travel time getting to the roads in
Idaho we wanted to explore later in the week. Planned stops for the day would
include
 Yellowstone Lake, the Upper and Lower Falls at Artist's Point, Tower
Junction and Mammoth Hot Springs before leaving the park via the north entrance.
Definitely a long day's ride.
The differing topography
- from borderline dessert with hot springs and volcanic geysers, to the immense
Yellowstone Lake, to the waterfalls and mountainous areas - are all spe ctacular
and keep your interest while touring the park, but this is not a quick 110 mile
ride. With stops to view the sites, food and fuel, and plenty of RVs traveling
the roads, getting around the park took the entire day. We arrived at our last
stop, Mammoth Hot Springs at about 4:30 on Friday afternoon. The last time I was
here in 1978, I remembered this area to be one of the most spectacular areas of
the park, with many active springs belching steam and running water, and amazing
colors of different types of algae all over the Mammoth Springs area.
Twenty-plus years later, many of these springs have ended their life cycle and
have dried to a powder white, so were a bit of a disappointment.
The record-setting temperatures throughout the Pacific Northwest had been with
us since leaving Utah, and walking the Mammoth Springs area added to the
cooked-put-a-fork-in-it feeling for both Lora and I. Well, we would not have
seen any of the eastern half of this park had we not taken the long route, so
the effort was certainly worthwhile.
From Yellowstone's north
entrance, there are no roads leading west, and traveling north is the only
 option. Once here, the most logical choice was to exit the park and make our way
west via Interstate 90tomorrow. The rest of the afternoon was spent riding up a
mostly arrow-straight, hot and dry Hwy 89 at a crisp 75 mph, the speed limit in
much of Montana. We arrived at the town of Livingston at I-90 at about 7 PM,
getting a room at the Best Western hotel, happy to call it a day.
Saturday morning came and
we were off again, heading west on I-90. Since we had a flight back to Atlanta
scheduled for Monday evening, we were now past the halfway point in our five
days of travel, and there was still much we wanted to see. The weather to this
point had been remarkably warm. I had been told to expect a daytime temperature
in the eighties, with nighttime temps a considerably cooler mid-sixties. Since
our arrival here, it had been sauna-like hot, and very dry, and it never dropped
below the mid-seventies even in the dead of night. The old joke is "...yeah, but
it's a dry heat" and that is absolutely true. Here, you do not sweat, you
bake.
It definitely takes its toll on your energy reserves, and lots of water and a
good sunblock are absolutely necessities. By this time I had gotten fairly well
used to the extra heft of the Goldwing, but it also put an added drain on my
batteries. Being on a bike all day in these conditions definitely wears down
both operator and passenger. As a result, after a day's riding, the most we had
energy for was a cool shower, dinner and a beer, and an HBO movie, typically
falling asleep before the end.
But I wouldn't have
missed this for the world. The roads and surrounding scenery out here are
incredible. You can ride all day heading straight towards mountains in the
distance and they never seem to get any closer. There are plains between
mountain foothills that seemingly cover half the state, with the road you're on
being the only sign of civilization as far as the eye can see. Every once in a
while you ride through a very small town that has no signs of other human
habitation around it for a hundred miles in any direction. And when I say very
small, out here, I mean it. One gas station, one diner and one hardware store,
and that's it. The first question I asked myself is how a person
even come to choose a place like this to live? The nearest mall, movie theatre,
airport, nightclub, anything, are hundreds of miles away. When you live on the
east coast, there is nothing like the lifestyle here to compare. Even a small
low-population town back east is not separated from others by anything even
remotely approaching this much distance.
Using the cruise control
feature on the Goldwing is an absolute necessity out here. I found the handgrips
on the 'Wing' to be a bit on the smallish size, causing my large-for-my-size
appendages to cramp after using the throttle for awhile. A day of riding this
road without cruise control would be sure to result in a case of "clawhand". Any
concern about setting the cruise at 75 plus mph on a road like this is
nonexistent. It seemed like if you were to count the cars or trucks going by in
the opposite direction all day long you would still have an unused digit or two left by
nightfall. Any large animal roaming the plains out here would be seen and could
be avoided from miles away. The only thing to do out here is to zoom and cover
the miles, basking in the revelation of the wide, wide-open spaces.
 The route through Montana
had been a bit of a convoluted one, somewhat hastily reworked due to our
northern exit from Yellowstone Park. After exiting I-90 at Three Forks, we took
Hwy 287 heading south. Although the map legend doesn't indicate that 287 is a
scenic highway, there really aren't any losers as far as the roads go out here.
Long sweeping curves and gently rolling hills surrounded by mountain foothills
are the norm, with roads typically visible until perspective takes them out of
sight. Looking at any map will show you that, like so many of the roads in the
western US, you are traveling in some very unpopulated country here, with fuel
available only when passing through the occasional town. The Goldwing carries
approximately 5 gallons and has about a two hundred mile range, so we were never
worried. My own motorcycle hits the reserve at about the 140-mile mark, and
riding it across Montana might have caused some concern. If you are considering
touring out here on a bike with a smaller tank, my suggestion would be to fill
up whenever the opportunity presented itself.
Highway 287 going south
cuts a right turn at Ennis, heading us due west. 287 connects withstate roads
41 and then 43 past I-15, later ending at Hwy 93 just over the Idaho state line.
It's just more wide-open beautiful country here, with the speed limits at 75
mph, even on the less-traveled state roads. There's a lot of territory to cover,
and my compliments on Montana's DOT, both for allowing a speed limit that will
let you cover it in reasonable time, and for keeping the roads in great shape,
making those speeds both reasonably safe and easily handled.
 Approaching the Idaho
state line returns you again to mountainous terrain. Cooler, greener, gorgeous.
For the first time since Wednesday, we got rain. We stopped to don our rain
jackets, not needing rain pants due to the coverage of the Wing's large fairing.
The big tourer's fairing is designed for looking through the windshield, not
over it. I am not crazy about looking through motorcycle windshields; although
in dry weather I did not notice any optical distortion from the shield and got
quite used to it. Had this been my motorcycle I would have already treated the
windshield with a wetting agent to allow raindrops to blow off, but witho ut it,
seeing through the windshield in the rain was impossible. Until the rain ended
and I could dry it once again, I had to sit with a stiff back to allow a line of
sight over it. For shorter riders such as myself, knowing that the windshield
has about 4 inches of upward adjustment, I would have it shortened it to allow a
clear line of sight over it in rainy weather riding, adjusting it up for
additional wind protection in dry.
Hwy 93 in Idaho is one
beautiful stretch of road and a "must ride" if you are coming out this way to
tour. For all of its 107 miles from the state line to SR75, it meanders along,
following the gentle curves of the Salmon River. The foothill mountains and the
river that run on either side of this road make for some spectacular unspoiled
scenery, and other than the few quaint small towns that this highway runs
through, it is totally unpopulated and offers excellent scenic views every mile
of the ride.
 As late afternoon was
upon us, at a stop for gas in Ennis, I inquired of the girl behind the counter
about possible places to stop for the night. I explained that we were heading up
towards Hwy 21, and she suggested staying in Stanley, assuring me that there
were plenty of hotels and that finding a room would not be a problem. At SR75,
we headed west toward Stanley, as did the Salmon River, just as pretty and
picturesque as before. The long shadows and orange hues of approaching s unset
only added to the picture-postcard quality. Once again we rode between the
raindrops, with storm clouds just outside either side of the valley we were
riding in, and we remained dry until just a few miles before Stanley. What rain
we did ride though was generally light, but I was surprised at a stop to take
photographs, when the rain turned to pea sized hail! At one point we were
treated to a double rainbow arcing over the mountains to the south. Another in
the dozens of excellent "photo ops".
At any rate, you really
can't miss with the roads in this area. They are, to the last, well paved and
well maintained, and are quite confidence inspiring. You certainly have to
remain vigilant concerning the wildlife that is everywhere out here, but road
condition will likely be the least of your concerns.
We had been on the road since 10:30 that morning, and it was now 9:30 PM.
Amazingly, the sun was still visible in the sky, with at least 30 minutes before
it would sink below the mountain horizon. At first the reasons for this escaped
me - the days were inordinately long here. Idaho's western border is the
mountain time zone line, which is one factor. Then I remembered that being this
far north causes a more pronounced effect on day length change during the summer
and winter. Living in Atlanta somewhat closer to the equator, the seasonal
change in day length is much less.
But with 11 hours in the
saddle, we were ready to call it a day. Unfortunately, we found out
that we would have to be on the road a bit longer. Upon arrival in Stanley, we were
shocked to find there were absolutely no vacancies in any hotel in the area.
What I had been led to believe to be a fairly well established resort location
was more of a small town with three hotels. Very pretty, very quaint, very
picturesque... and very small. With a sinking feeling in my stomach - and Lora's
too, no doubt, we stopped at the last hotel in town flashing a no vacancy sign,
and asked about accommodations elsewhere in the area. Nothing doing. The best
chance, we were told, at finding a place to stay for the night was at least
sixty miles away.
The rain was just ending
and nightfall was approaching. We were tired and way past the point where we
should be traveling further. It was the July 4th weekend, and I should have
realized that there would be lots of tourists with the same idea we had. I had
my cell phone with me, and Lora had brought a "Triple A" guide with her, which
listed virtually every hotel and motel in the state. It would have been a simple
matter to call ahead earlier in the day to check. This was just plain not
thinking on my part, and a little forethought would have kept this from
happening. A hard lesson to learn now.
Stopping at a roadside campground to check the map and assess our options, we
realized we had few, all of which involved more time on the bike. Sun Valley,
Ketchum and Boise were our options, with the first two about sixty, and the last
about one hundred ten miles away. On the map, both Sun Valley and Ketchum
appeared to be other small towns. Not wanting to be caught in the same situation
again, we opted to go for the sure thing and ride to the largest town, Boise.
As we rode south on SR 21
toward Boise, the sun had made its exit for the day and the last of
daylight faded rapidly. SR 21 is a well-known road in this area and one I
came here to ride, but not like this. I knew that on the way down the mountain
we would encounter a dangerous combination of circumstances - a dark, unlit very
twisty mountain road, the possibility of large wild animals on any curve, and an
already long day in the saddle. In these conditions, the 110-mile ride would
take much longer than it would in daylight. Nothing to do but buck up and get it
over with as quickly and safely as possible. I know Lora was fully aware of the
dangers we were facing as well, and we would both be vigilantly watching the
road all the way down the mountain for the next three-plus hours. At least the
rain had stopped and the sky was clear
The road was about as
expected. Although we were lucky not to have any deer or elk jump out in front
of us for the ride down, there were several around most curves and close to the
road on the pullouts and road shoulders. Kudos to Goldwing here - using the
bright lights lit up the road very well (a pair of reflecting fauna eyes in the
darkness is an unnerving thing!) and with a horn louder than many automotive
horns, using it scared the animals encountered away from the road.
Immediately inside the
Boise city limits, we stopped at the first hotel found - a Best Western. It was
12:30 AM, and we had been on the motorcycle for 14 hours. Thankfully, they had
rooms available, but looking as we probably did at the time, I don't think the
clerk would have had the nerve to turn us down. Lora looked truly exhausted to
the extreme, walking in the hotel with tired eyes and a glazed expression on her
face. I thought she was going to hate me forever. I wouldn't have blamed her.
Once in the room she was almost immediately asleep.
 The morning brought more
beautiful weather and at least for me, a renewed sense of adventure. After last
night, I didn't want to jump enthusiastically into a discussion of the day's
activities, fearing a less than equal response on my lady's part. We hadn't
talked about a riding destination, or even if there was one, but not wanting the
trip to end on a "down note", I was hoping to make the last day a good one.
While Lora got up and going, I took the bike to a local drive-in car wash to
clean it up. The previous four days had put quite a coat of grime on the Wing,
and I hate riding a dirty motorcycle. While there I looked at the map to see if
there were any scenic destinations close by that we could ride for the day
before heading back to Utah in the morning. The best choice was SR21, the road
we came down the previous evening. Obviously, any enjoyment of the road - the
ride and the scenery - was lost in the darkness, so I hadn't felt like we'd
really seen it. I did not, however, look forward to making this suggestion to
Lora.
To her credit she didn't
throw her riding boots at me, and although not entirely enthusiastic, said she
would keep an open mind about the idea. A Perkins restaurant was within walking
distance from the hotel, so we went there for breakfast. Luckily for me, we got
into a conversation with a very friendly waitress, telling her about our tour
and the previous evening's ordeal, and she said that we really should see SR21
in the daytime, as it was a beautiful road and well worth the ride. This was
apparently enough to win Lora over, and soon we were heading into the mountains
again.
After all is said and
done, I am glad we didn't miss this. SR21 is another real winner of a road, and
the ride up had little resemblance to the white-knuckled one of the previous
evening. There's more incredible Idaho scenery, as we've come to know and love,
along with enough "twisties" to make it interesting. On the way up the mountain,
I gave Lora the camera to shoot a few shots over my shoulder, allowing us to
stop less for photos, and giving her something to concentrate on while she rode.
I hadn't mentioned that she has a fear of heights, and is not real comfortable
with two-lane twisty blacktops with a one-foot shoulder and a five-hundred-foot
drop. There are sections like this on SR21, and letting her shoot the photos
kept her mind off the road.
Once again, the Goldwing
was a dream to handle, and it is quite a surprise to me how a motorcycle of this
size can handle so nimbly. Even fully loaded, it is a confidence-inspiring
machine on a road like this, and I never felt like its size was ever an
impediment on the curves. You just lean her over and she tucks in and throttles
right out effortlessly.
We arrived back at
Stanley at about 2 PM and headed south on SR75 once again. While this section of
road is not as challenging a ride as the section we rode the previous day, it is
nonetheless as beautiful as the others up here are. Here the curves are more
sweeping and less twisty, and as you ride up to Galena Summit at 8700 feet, you
can view the valley behind and SR 75 as it stret.TIF.jpg) ches out below. We made a stop
for a break in Sun Valley, the pricey resort location of the state, and vacation
home to some of Hollywood's
 "beautiful people". Here, we found the only
Starbuck's Coffee in the four states and 1500 plus miles of riding over the past
five days. Ah, civilization... A mocha cappuccino her, a "coffee regular" for
me, a shared scone and a tank of gas, and we were rolling again. At Bellevue we
headed south toward I-84, while the heat of the day reached its peak. Idaho had
been experiencing rec.TIF.jpg) ord high temperatures during the week, and we were in the
middle of them now. The temps hit 101 degrees, dessert dry. Even at 75 miles an
hour, the rushing air was not much of a relief. Hot air on a hot day. Moving
into farmland, huge watering machines feeding crops raised the humidity to the
point that it felt like we were riding through a steam bath perfumed by the
smell of manure. Very pleasant.
Near Twin Falls, it was
back on the Interstate for the ride to Pocatello, where we decided to spend the
last evening before returning to Salt Lake and flying home. We found another Red
Lion Inn on I-15 south, and while not quite as nice as the one in Jackson, it
was fine hotel nonetheless. Lora had brought a pair of high-heeled
sandals with her on this trip, and they were the source of many a joke at her
expense during the previous week. Not much call for high-heeled sandals out
here, ma'am. She took the opportunity to wear them to dinner, so as not to call
packing them a total loss.
 In the morning we started
back to Salt Lake City to turn the bike in and get to the airport for the flight
home. The ride south on I-15 was as it had been every other place this week -
hot. Over 100 degrees Fahrenheit once again. For the first time for the entire
trip, the Goldwing gave me cause for concern. Just south of Ogden, at a section
of stop-and-go traffic on the interstate due to road construction, the Wing
began to overheat, with the engine temperature needle climbing until pinging the
red zone at one point. I thought I would have to park it and shut it down, but
luckily traffic got moving and the bike cooled to normal operating temperature
again. It was the only time the Goldwing had a problem keeping cool in the
intense heat of this trip, but Honda may want to look into cooling problems the
bike may have when operating in extreme conditions such as this.
We turned the bike back
into Cruise America at 1:30, racking up 1847 miles for the five-day trip, about
a 308-mile daily average. The folks at Cruise America were great, and we were
both checked out and checked in efficiently and quickly. The bike was a joy, in
excellent condition and ready to roll, and the rental experience problem free.
At $708.00 total charge (minus $300.00 deposit) for the five-day rental and full
coverage insurance, it is not exactly cheap, but not cost-prohibitive. Renting
also allows you to concentrate on the riding experience, not the wear and tear
on your own bike, or having to allow for the considerable time and effort it
w ould have taken to ride out here from anywhere east of the Mississippi. It is
definitely worth considering as an option, and something I will do again.
As for the week's travel,
no "description" can truly suffice. If you have not traveled out here before, prepare
for a life changing experience - you simply have to do it to know. America is
unquestionably one of the most naturally beautiful countries in the world, and
the Western US simply must be seen to be believed. Get on the bike... there's
lots of miles to cover.
(c) Philip A. Buonpastore, July 2002. |
