Gremlin's Tall Stories

Alarm at 7am. I can’t be arsed getting up, letting Murray get ready (even conned him into taking my bag to the van as well). Took the flak for lying in bed… unfortunate our room was right next to the bikes, but hey, nice short walk unloading the bike.

After much noise (the talking sort… sheesh, some people are trying to sleep) they left at 8am, and I rolled over and went back to sleep. Alarm went again and I took my time getting up. Eventually packed, and pondered about visiting the most awesome sandwich shop again for some brekkie, as no complimentary breakfast was provided.

In the end I decided not to, as I left the motel at 11.30am, figuring I should probably knock off some distance. One of the workers had advised me on a much better alternative to a short trip down I90, little did I know Karen was back in her good mood, and already had it plotted. After filling in Anaconda the previous day, I only had 80km on the clock, so no gas necessary today. It was an almost perfect start to the day, tracking along Highway 2. 25 degrees, rolling roads with scenery and surface much like home, a whole sequence of corners rated at 25mph with almost no traffic. I was into my rhythm quickly hovering around 70mph.

The corners didn’t last long enough (well, only a whole day of it would be considered “enough”) straightening out on 41, but some nice pictures showing the changing terrain. A brief stop in Twin Bridges, as we have one of them towns at home, except this one was probably larger, as our Twin Bridges is a dot on the map.

The next stop was Nevada City, almost non-existent, as its boom time has long gone. It’s re-inventing itself as a tourist attraction, and it’s very cute in a ye olde sense. Entering Virginia City just down the road, in the same position, I got distracted by the dirt roads… fun, but the good stuff behind No Trespassing signs This town was much larger, having at least 2 streets, if not three, and quite busy. Photos only, and I was on my way.

Up and over the hill to Ennis avoiding two deer galloping across the road, nearing 2000m of altitude again (we haven’t been under 1000m for a couple of days at least) the terrain was incredible. The camera could never do it justice, a sprawling town covering a tiny section of a huge valley, with the Madison Range in the background. I felt like I could have put the South Island in the valley. A lot of the scenery we have, but much more compact. 30 miles would be more like 230 miles here.

A lot of credit must go to Ken here. Others have said that the USA is boring as hell to ride, but we’re just not getting that. A mixture of tight roads for me, and more open flowing roads for the tanks, sorry, Harleys with an ever-changing scene. I had to take a shot of the Lure Me Inn… it wasn’t very alluring… Still, compared to mud huts, it would have been luxury (well, one assumes they would have electricity and water).

At the turn off to 84, at Norris, I had to stop briefly to take a shot of some good artwork. It was worth the pelting rain that had started to descend. The droplets were large, and fully capable of penetrating the jacket and stinging like a BB gun. Slow or fast, it didn’t matter, so I settled on fast, yelping a few times at the constant barrage.

As the rain started to turn to drizzle, the roads were dry, and I assumed I had out-ridden the front. Riding along, I’m thinking, wow, I can even smell the heat now, then I realised the temperature had jumped from 25 degrees to 31 degrees.

Two corners later I had a close shave with Mr Police. The warning boards had asked for 35mph, I exited doing about 75mph (70mph zone), cresting a hill to find the oncoming cop. I backed off and eased on my rear brake, not wanting it to look too obvious and he reached for his radar. I carried on, not seeing a turning cop, but also knowing he was probably too close to the corners to u-turn safely (unless he was in NZ of course). He may also have been OK with the speed, but I figured on safety first, and didn’t stop in the next 20 miles to the next turn. Didn’t see any cops.

On the run down 191, I passed Ken and Jan. I could have stayed with them, but didn’t like the ominous rain clouds, reminding me of yesterday. They ended up catching me just before the Big Sky turn off, and the rain caught up as well. The road was definitely like NZ, with a lot of smooth, slippery patches. Staying on the good bits (the odd detour onto slippery bits confirmed they not only looked like glass but had the same grip co-efficient) I was out-foxed in one corner, the good bit disappearing mid corner, leaving only slippery bits. Not too bad, I eased over it, onto the good stuff again. Not the nicest in pouring rain.

The time spent researching the night stops etc. before the trip paid dividends, taking me exactly to the Huntley Lodge, within the Mountain Village. Ken commented it was handy to follow me, as he’d forgotten the name of the place and only remembered when he saw the name on the building. The rain was still falling as we checked in, organising covered parking for the bikes at $5 each (yep, even in the middle of nowhere, it still costs).

On the way down the lift, one of the other guys is coming up, saying we need to move the bikes… the valet had directed us where to park (in amongst empty spaces) but apparently it was valet parking, so down another level. For a complex extremely popular in the middle of winter, the village’s buildings don’t have walkways between them. The rain was cold and relentless, and I was a bit wet after negotiating 3 buildings and too much open space.

Bike moved, on my way back (different route) I found the supermarket I was after, more of a grocery outlet, and found a special on a plate of pizza (2 slices) and drink for $6. Also found some more trail mix. Up to the room, I bumped into more of the guys arriving… lots of fun seeing people you know all over the place. Never reached the room, as I bumped into one of the others, Ernie with the van had arrived, so not seeing my bag in the foyer I grabbed Murray’s.

Bumped into Jan on the way up, offered to lead her to the grocery place, so dropped Murray’s bag and off again… no blogging getting done, but who cares. A different route there and back, I’m slowly getting more efficient at getting around the rather large complex. Saw Mark and Gerry so caught up with them until dinner.

Dinner was at Whiskey Jack’s, others were already there having a drink. The portions turned out to be huge, good reminder we’re back in the USA. Several did rather well managing to finish, and I think most rolled back to their rooms to digest their meals.

I finally caught up on blogging, posting one day and writing another two for posting later. Started up the GPS, we’re at 7666 feet (about 2330 metres) above sea level. The other guys were up to their hijinks, something about beds not being right. Murray turned on a movie, and all I heard was groans and moans. Peering over the mezzanine wall, I accuse Murray of the obvious, he says, “I just turned the telly on!”. Turns out it was bridesmaids or something?

Going to have a shower and hit the bed. It’s 11.30pm and the guys want to get up at 7am AGAIN. 230 miles to cover, so can’t even dawdle too much.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/oPybxk2W6jryDnD2A