Gremlin's Tall Stories

*sigh... behind again in my blogging. Some nights the wireless hasn't worked, others I headed straight for bed...*

Alarm at 7.30am… still too early, but the Beartooth Highway needed to be ridden. Some crazies had started their bikes and left at 5.30am, and then some more at 7am, I wasn’t going with any of them.

Mark and Gerry had had a long previous day, so also had no intention of starting at 7am, so we made a plan to leave at 8.45am. Predictably, I was slightly late (ever so slightly, about half an hour) so they’d already left (they did come knocking, but didn’t hear me reply from the bog) leaving me to my own devices once again.

I grabbed some extra layers, as the Beartooth Highway topped out at 11,000 feet, about 3600m. The gas station across the road was also the old style garage, and best of all, you could fill before paying, somewhat of a revelation in the USA, where it’s standard to prepay.

Heading north on 120 going Harley hunting, I didn’t even get to Crandall Rd before hitting the first section of roadworks which resulted in at least 10min delay. While waiting a group of Harleys caught up, and the nice roadworkers motioned them to the front of the queue. Heading off, I made sure I was first, and turning onto Crandall Rd a mile or two down the road I easily opened up a gap.

Crandall Rd is better known as the Chief Joseph’s Highway. I thought it was just a road to get to the Beartooth Highway, but it was actually a great ride in its own right, switchbacks and fast flowing corners in abundance. The views were magnificent, but I chose to carry on, and photograph later, because if the camera crapped out permanently, I wanted to make sure I got the top of the pass. I’d stop on the way back to photograph this scenery (hoping the weather remained good).

The temperature was climbing, staying in the mid-twenties and as I headed down the other side there was a noticeboard warning of a slippery road ahead for 8 miles. Ken had warned they put diesel on the road, presumably to combine with something, and it started spitting so I got really cautious. It turned out it was tar snakes. If we think we have it bad at home, I should have actually taken a picture of them. All over the road in places, across the road at regular intervals about 10m apart. Alone, it would have been Ok, but then there were also tar snakes running parallel to the road, in random places, sometimes 3 side by side in one lane.

Going around sweepers with the perpendicular ones was interesting, the bike slowly running wide on each corner, slipping a little on each snake. The parallel ones were the worst, the bike squirming over them, sometimes rather alarmingly. None of the traffic was catching up, so they were going even slower. Continuing on, I came across a group of about 10 Harleys. I was doing about 70mph through the corners (having a ball), they were doing about 50mph. Blasted through the pack (OK, leapfrogged each one very politely when the road was clear) but still no Mark and Gerry.

A deer running towards me on the opposite of the road, in the undergrowth caused me to test my ABS as a precaution, but the deer stayed off the road. Warned other oncoming bikers for the next while. Just before the turn for the Beartooth Highway I had a sudden radar alert, and being a bit cautious edged up on a cop SUV going the same way. As my luck would have it, he also turned right and I’m thinking, oh shit, now I have to follow a cop, until he pulled over immediately. Gave him a wave, and warned the oncoming bikes as they came around the corner, remembering the head pat the Americans use.

Heaps of bikes on the road, a relatively clean run, fantastic views, but the surface looked a bit suspect to me and I couldn’t quite gel with it, so exercised a fair amount of caution. Approaching 9000 feet, we’re hit with another section of roadworks that causes a length delay. I advise the Harley in front of me that his one pannier isn’t locked properly (see, I’m even learning how their bikes go together, and when it isn’t right!) and end up chatting until we can finally get under way. I’m finding it amusing that one of the first questions I get is “Are you really from New Zealand?”… “Yes, that’s why the stickers are there” is my usual reply. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered, but it’s usually a great conversation starter. The cop has also joined the queue of vehicles, a handful back.

We get under way, only to stop again a couple of hundred metres later, more delays. At the second set of delays in the same roadworks I did relent and take a couple of pictures as it wasn’t likely we’d stop in the same scenic place on the way down. Eventually we reach the top. I spot the BMW from yesterday, making the mistake of heading into the store car park to say hello. As I go in, he leaves, and now I have to re-join the queue heading up the mountain.

In short (because this blog is getting longer than a beartooth) this road is a must do. Absolutely stunning views, lakes above 10,000 feet, snow around them, you can see for miles, took my breath away on multiple occasions. It was a bit disappointing there was no sign announcing the highest point, especially for us tourists, so I used the GPS to find out where the highest spot was. The photos will be out of sequence as I started taking pictures on the return instead.

Heading down the other side it starts to rain. Initially I held off getting out the rain jacket, but I did stop to take a picture for a touring couple with a bub on the back of the dad’s bike. Next switchback, I’m stopping to chuck the rain jacket on, it’s bucketing down, heavy jacket penetrating rain that stings like a bitch. Down the hill, bikes are stopping all over to don the wets. I head towards Red Lodge, mostly to pass the time and try and let the rain pass over the mountains before going back, as rain does not a good shot make.

2-3 miles from Red Lodge I turn around and run up the hill again. Bikes are actually holding up the cars, but they pull over, and I overtake the cars as well. Several times on the way up I stop for pictures, have a look, they’re good, but nearly as great as seeing it for real. A short gravel road at the top took me to the 11,000 foot mark, some more pictures then down, with it now much quieter than before.

I stopped at the Top of the World Store for a basic meat roll and a patch declaring I have done the ride. Ended up speaking to a Canadian couple who were also touring and time passed quickly. Eventually pulled myself away, probably only leaving the store at 2pm. Both roadworks were still in effect on the way down, but no cops. Thankfully, the camera wasn’t playing up, so lots of pictures of the mountain, lakes and views.

On the Chief Joseph Highway I passed another group of Harleys, but they were carrying NZ flags, so a cheery wave as I swept by (giggling as I went). A couple of Frenchies on Goldwing’s as well, the climb up the mountain was as slippery as hell over the tar snakes, even doing 25mph in one corner as it was so slippery. At the top I took some more photos, a tourist offering to take my picture took some of himself first not figuring out which side it went, then the Kiwis showed up.

I mentioned I’d passed some Harleys in the morning going slow, and they said, oh yeah, pretty sure that was us. Doh. I’d blame it on the Aussie in their group. Completing the Chief Joseph Highway, my corner desire was pretty well sorted. Speaking to some of the others later, I found it hard to name any one road as the best, because there have been so many, and good in different ways, but this was definitely a good one, even though there was some heavy rain for sections.

Waiting at the last section of roadworks, the Harleys caught up, and the girl on the lollipop I’d been chatting to was quite confused. Yep, all kiwis, but we don’t know each other. Not bad to have Kiwis all over the place, and we number a little over 4 million.

On the way into town I stopped at the RadioShack, but the chap couldn’t help me with another of my camera, recommending Rapid City, and a Best Buy in particular, for finding the camera. I think I came off slightly crazy, as he was chuckling about Kiwis being wild (imagine my surprise… moi? Crazy?)

The blooming Harley riders were now hassling me about letting down the group with such a dirty bike, as once again they’d been cleaning theirs. The Lodge even provided cleaning rags and cleaning fluids. No excuses then, and I couldn’t be arsed going to the nearby soap wash. Chucked some washing in the washing machine, using some weird washing sheets, not powder I expected. Oh well… when in Rome.

Cleaning the bike took a while, but I remembered to blast some of the dust/mud off my rims. Primary reason for cleaning the bike is so the job isn’t as hard in LA, as MAF will have a fit if the bikes come back dirty. It’s times like these I wouldn’t mind having fairings, as they hide dirt better and it’s easier to clean. The guys were constantly taking the piss nearby, so tempting to spray them with the hose, but best not to… still have to survive another 3 weeks… One of the ladies even came over to say she wished I had…

Bike turned out nice and clean, had a can of soft drink, then some of us headed over to Grannies again for dinner. Nice simple meal over, back to the Lodge. Checking on the bike, I saw a huge Unicat parked outside and took some pictures. It appears to be a Dakar type support truck, with serious off road capabilities. Lighting is somewhat of a fetish of mine, two big BajaDesigns HID spots on the radiator and what looks like a Vision X Lightbar on the roof. The lightbar is probably US$10k if not more. Damn it would be nice to have one, but I don’t think it’s a viable alternative for commuting around town.

The day trip was about 220miles. 10.30pm, I should be blogging… I don’t feel like it and feel like having a shower and falling asleep, so I do.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/1gTKzQAJfiJKytDcA