So my wife of 21 years took our first trip together this past week. I've been going on multi-state/province trips for years, but usually with her brother...a guys trip. I've done them on many different bikes, from sport bikes to a Harley Sportster 1200. My wife never showed an interest in riding and honestly, I was ok with that. My time, you know. Nothing wrong with that. Well, a couple years ago, she wanted to go for a ride. She was hooked. She loved it. Upgraded the seat and the shocks on the Sportster, but it was clear I'd need a new bike. Ok...if I must.
Was looking at a new or fairly new Road Glide for $30,000+, then discovered the Valkyrie. Bought it for about a sixth of that and the rest is history. I bought it last summer, too late for a road trip with our vacations used up already. Spent the year reading A LOT on here. The bike was well taken care of but I wanted to get to know her. I replaced several things: brake pads, wheel bearings, timing belts, coolant, brake and clutch fluids, serviced the drivetrain, intake o-rings, just put on 2 brand new Avons, etc. Loved every minute of working on her.
I ride her every day(the bike, not the wife) to work and back, but that is a short 10 minute commute in the city. My wife and I have gone on several day trips but never anything longer. We made plans to go over through Alberta, BC, down to Idaho, Montana, Beartooth Pass.
Just got back yesterday. Here is the ride report. I will apologize in the typical Canadian way for its length, but it was a great trip.
Day 1
Left Regina for Lethbridge. I've been through the bike and I think we're good to go.
An hour or so into the trip, I get what I call the dizzies. I've had them on a couple other trips before. Basically, you feel like you're going to fall off the bike. I don't know if it's the wind or the helmet optics vibrating or a seizure or a stroke, but it's quite unpleasant. The previous time it happened, I didn't want to pull over, so I did what I thought would work...I sang out loud to get my mind focused on something. Like I mean yelling at the top of my lungs. It worked then, so why not try again. So the song that comes to my head...Barbara Ann. Ba Ba Ba Ba Barbara Ann... the low voice, the high voice, loudly. And it works. Not sure how. Some things are just beyond our comprehension. So yeah, if you're ever having a seizure or a stroke, sing Barbara Ann loudly. Probably works with heartburn and mild to moderate psoriasis too, but that is yet untested.
I've mentioned to my wife that I get a song stuck in my head every day that I ride and to not be surprised if I sing out loud while riding. So I think she probably thought me singing Barbara Ann doing 75 was normal. She had no idea how close I was to falling off the bike and her having to figure out all the levers and switches to get the beast stopped.
There isn't much to say about the ride to Lethbridge. Boring divided highway most of the time. Pulled into the small city before supper, checked into a motel I had previously stayed at on a bike trip, went for supper, retired for the night.
On motels: like most riders, I like the cheaper hotels with walk-in rooms on the first floor so you can load/unload easily, keep an eye and ear on your bike and easily exit for smoke breaks. Wife doesn't seem to mind the cheaper motels. When you travel without the kids, you don't need the pool, waterslides, etc. Just a clean bed is ok.
Wash most of the bugs off the bike and polish the chrome a bit just because.
Distance 632 kms (392 miles)
Day 2
During my routine morning tire pressure check, I find my rear tire is about 4 lbs low. Strange. It was a cool morning, about 12 degrees out, so maybe in my mind, I figured that had something to do with it. Packed up and left. Song stuck in my head: Travis Tritt, Great Day to be Alive.
It kept bothering me. Something has to be wrong. Did we pick up a nail? Anyways, tried to let Travis distract me with his rice cooking in the microwave and contemplating growing a fumanchu, but the tire kept bothering me. Stopped in Pincher Creek for a coffee and there it was.
And keep the comments about the 2 full rows of rubber knobs on the edges of my tires to yourself...the tires are brand new and the only miles they have on them are on straight flat prairie, 2 up and loaded down with gear.
Not a good way to start the trip. I always carry a tool kit with tire plugs. Been driving 25 years, never had to change a tire on the side of the road, always been able to plug it and carry on. But this is a bike tire and we are loaded with 400+ pounds of people and gear, 600 kms into a 3000+km trip. Notice a tire place a couple blocks away, pull in, ask if I can plug my tire in their parking lot, all I'll need is their air hose.
Some will say to never plug a bike tire. I have a couple times and have never had a problem. Usually with a brand new tire. I won't plug it if it's in a bad spot or too big of hole requiring more than 1 plug.
The tire holds air. I roll up the hose and pass the screw to the guy there, ask him where the garbage is. He makes a smart assed comment about just throwing it in the parking lot, that's how they make their money. I didn't laugh. Not funny.
With a little apprehension about the several provinces and states coming up with cliffs beside hairpin turns with a plugged tire, we pack up and leave.
Take the beautiful ride through Crowsnest Pass, wait at the border and then head into one of my favourite states, Idaho. Love Idaho. Roads are great, speed limits on the twisties are about 15 mph faster than I would expect back home, no awful interstates, scenery is great, the people are blue jeans, ball cap and dirt under their nails types. I've toured Idaho before, but this time we are just grazing it, heading down and over to Beartooth Pass.
Head over to Libby, MT for the night, check into a motel, go for supper at the restaurant the nice motel lady recommended, wipe off some of the bugs, quick inspection and wipe of the bike, retire for the
Day 2 distance: 507 kms(315 miles)
Day 3
The weather has been fantastic. A little warm, but nothing but sun. It did rain a little overnight, just enough to wet the ground and cool things off. Head out towards Kalispell. Leaving town, the highway is wet, the sun it beaming through the tall trees on either side of the road, steam coming off the road, immediately see a couple deer in the ditch...just breathtaking. I tell the wife I hope this is the "light" and the scene people see when they are called to the next life. The ride is cool but refreshing. We have the rain pants on and an extra layer under the jackets. Beautiful riding. I have Travis Tritt stuck in my head again today, and also Talladega by Eric Church, for some odd reason.
So that's me. And if you're wondering by "Beardo" has such a pathetic beard...it's my summer beard. My winter beard doesn't fit inside my face shield on my helmet.
Head down 35 along Flathead Lake. Looked like a nice road on the map. It would have been. If the speed limit was 15 more, there wasn't tourist dollar sucking cherry stands every few yards, or there weren't a-holes dragging 30 foot campers behind their vehicle that was clearly not capable of it despite the salesman telling them their vehicle will pull it based on the specs. There is also a guy in a car in front of us who is either riding the brakes or his brake lights are stuck on. Not good, with so many roadside stops, turns, can't tell when he's actually braking. And there's no passing. Stuck at 50-55 mpg, AKA the Valk gear whine speed. Time for a smoke break. 10 minutes later, catch brake light guy again.
A quick blast on the interstate past Missoula, then head onto 200/141 towards Helena. Could blast down the interstate to Belgrade...but I hate interstates with a passion. Too fast (especially with the thought of my tire spitting out the plug), not enjoyable, can't enjoy the scenery or talk to the wife.
The road through Helena and 287 back to another stretch of I-90 is dry and hot. But still has it's curves and its own unique kind of beauty.
We get a room in Belgrade for the night, anticipating the beautiful Beartooth tomorrow.
Distance: 677 kms(421 miles)
Side note: Go to the gas station for some drinks, smokes and chocolate bars. Wife and I like to get bars that we don't see in Canada. You've got some good ones. A lot have the standard chocolate, peanuts...and nougat. We laugh. WTF is nougat exactly. Unsure of the taste, texture or chemical makeup of the term nougat, we usually skip those. But the point here is...2 24 oz beers, a Mike's for the wife, a pack of Marlboros and 2 chocolate bars: $16. Seriously, $16. Back home a pack of smokes costs that much. God Bless the United States of America.
Day 4 Beartooth Pass
Tire check. Still good.
Normally we fill up the night before so we can leave early in case the gas stations aren't open yet. But with my preoccupation with the price of beer and smokes, I forgot to fuel up last night. Fill up and head south towards West Yellowstone. Nicely into the hills and trees beside the river that seems to be going the wrong direction based on the feel of the road going down hill in many places. Past Big Sky a ways, the traffic comes to a grinding halt. I see a vehicle turned over in the ditch a couple hundred yards ahead. Police cars fly by. Then an ambulance and a fire truck. Everyone gets out of their vehicle because it becomes obvious this could take a while. Word gets passed down that it is serious and the air ambulance is being called in. An hour goes by. The chopper comes, then another hour passes while the police do their accident investigation. The time is spent smoking, pondering what might have happened and answering the usual questions from passers by..."Is that a Boss Hoss?" "Is that a 6 cyl?!" "Is it hard to handle?" I make small talk, amazing one guy that it is 18 years old. The whole time, feeling guilty about shootin the breeze about bikes while someone's life is in danger a few yards away.
The police and EMS workers work done, traffic starts to move. We see that a big bus-type motorhome pulling an enclosed utility trailer has lost control and rolled into the ditch. I cringe at the thought of the people whose lives were affected while just on a nice holiday. I also cringe at the site of the skid marks coming into our lane and the thought of what might have happened if we had gotten gas the night before as usual and not taken the 5 minutes to fill up this morning. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way, we are saddened but thankful.
A quick fill up in West Yellowstone and off to the pass. We'll skip Old Faithful. Been there, seen it, got the pictures. Too touristy for me anyway. I should mention that I hate anywhere there are lots of people. I hate people. Not individual people, just people plural. Like at Wal Mart, the interstates, weddings, etc. If I go to a wedding, I'm not dancing. I'm sipping whiskey with the bride's grandfather in the corner, listening to stories. I've gone to Sturgis before, couldn't stand the crowds, the best part of that trip was talking and smoking with the retired military vet on the bench outside the motel, listening to stories about where he'd been, what he'd seen, the current state of affairs. Anyways...The Pass was calling. We mark our way through the maze of campers, poor signage, people stopping in the middle of the road to take pics and onto the pass. We encounter our first buffalo heard. Wife is a little(ok, a lot) scared of the big male who doesn't want to get off the road. Traffic is stopped.
I stop and talk to the guy on the Harley who just passed it and was taking pics. He said it's ok, it didn't bother him. Yeah, but...he's riding a Harley. I'm on a Valk. Will the big beast be challenged by another beast of size and power? I tell the wife its no different than the bulls on the farm I grew up on, it will be fine. She says no, it's not the same at all. We roll by slowly and without incident.
A few miles later, traffic stopped again. We see people holding out cameras, pointing into the trees beside the road. We creep up as traffic slowly moves. Yeah, it's a grizzly. Maybe 15 feet from the road. Move, you idiots. Tender white meat here not protected by a cage. Idiots.
We make our way to the top of the pass. That road. Those switchbacks. To a prairie boy used to flat straight roads, the road is just as amazing as the scenery. I scrape pegs. Well, not the foot pegs, but the highway pegs scrape first. With the aforementioned 400+ lbs of meat, bone, jiggly bits, gear, tools, etc, I wasn't going to push it too far, especially being so far from home and never had the experience of needing a hospital in the States...didn't want to test my insurance.
We get to the top, ask a nice older gentleman to take our picture.
As I stand there in awe of the view, the engineering marvel that is that road, I think of the quote from Gladiator when they see the Colosseum..."I didn't know men could build such things." I suppose it applies to the Valk. Amazing. I wish I had bought her years ago. Love that bike. People overuse that word. Like I love that song, I love that movie. No, you don't. You like it. But yeah, I love that bike.
We finish the pass, roll into Red Lodge. We had planned to go further today, but with the 2 hour accident delay, we were ready to pack it in for the day. Unfortunately, the state HOG ralleye is this weekend, so there are polished $30,000+ Harleys everywhere with nary a bug gut splatter with their pirate clothed owners filling up all the rooms and bars in town. Not knocking Harley owners. Just these types who never actually ride further than the local bar. We take off, heading to Billings for the night.
Heading away from that beautiful pass, 10 minutes on the interstate, pulling into a bigger busy city has me moody. Pull into the first Motel 6 or whatever, it's full. The next one has an even moodier teenager with hickies all over her neck and her iPhone in her hand working the desk. It's 34 degrees out (I think 150 or so Fahrenheit), I don't care how much it is, if there's a room, we're staying. It has the manditory walk in rooms. I ask if we can get a walk in room, she says yeah, probably. She checks me in, says my room is down the hall. I ask if it is a walk in from outside, she says "I'm not sure if it is, probably." It wasn't. Now we have to drag all our gear past her desk in the lobby while she sits on her iPhone. Have I mentioned I hate people?
We go for a nice supper and try to get that out of our minds.
Distance today: 487 km(303 miles).
Day 5. Heading north.
With the interesting spots checked off, we point north, the boring, hot, flat trip home. Head north to Malta, still grumpy anout going home and about the motel clerk last night. The road is actually quite scenic, but dry. Very dry. Grass is not green. Water is scarce. Farm yards and gas stations are few and far between. I'm thinking...what kind of idiot rides in this kind of place with an 18 year old bike? This guy. And every member of this site, without hesitation.
I grumpily play guess the roadkill. That is the only sign of life out here...and it's dead. I'm sure those poor creatures had such a depressing life, they chose to hurl themselves in front of the passing vehicle rather than try to exist out here. The only other animals I see are a sparrow and a swallow, and both tried to end their lives flying into me, but they missed. There was also an ill-tempered crow who was upset that I interrupted his feast and also took a swipe at us as we passed. And a wasp or bee that decided to end it's miserable life stinger first on my inner left thigh.
We stop for a smoke break. My wife says she can't believe how many deer and antelope she's seeing. I call BS. Nothing is alive out here. We carry on, with her touching my shoulder and pointing every time she sees wildlife. And it's constant. They are everywhere. I was obsessed with the dead animals, the road, the clerk girl at the motel, I wasn't seeing anything else. My wife was inches away from me and was seeing something completely different. It's all about perspective and mindset, I guess. I contemplate how 2 people can see the same thing but see them completely different. I also think I have to take her hunting. She has an eye for deer.
My mood changed, I now have a new song stuck in my head. Bawitdaba by Kid Rock. Which is really annoying because it is just a bunch of nonsensical gibberish. And I don't know the "words" so it's kinda the same sounds over and over again. But it's stuck in my head, and it's kinda upbeat, so whatever.
Side note: OK, American friends...something I've been wondering this whole trip. What genius decided it was necessary and cost effective to put "No Passing Zone" signs every time you can't pass. The dots and solid lines aren't easy enough to figure out? It’s an awful waste of money. How about more signs like “Next gas..xxx miles.” I can figure out the dots and the solid lines just fine, but would like to know where my next gas fill will be.
We make it to Malta, over to Glasgow for the night. It's 34 degrees, we'll get a room and cover the rest of the miles home tomorrow. We don't want to go home just yet, and a text to the kids(18 and 15) verify that they don't want us home yet either. We pull into a nicer motel for the last night of the trip.
Distance covered: 444 km (276 miles)
Day 6. Home.
New song in my head. "Leavin on a jet plane." No idea who sings it, but it's the Armageddon movie version with Ben Affleck, Steve Buscemi and the fat guy doing the high notes, Michael Clarke Duncan doing the lows. I often get this song stuck when riding the valk, because to me, it sounds a bit like a plane taking off when you gun it.
I also snicker at that word again. Nougat. Strange thoughts enter a rider's head when on the road.
Over and up through Plentywood, straight through the border with no wait, home to Regina. First place we stop at home is Timmies. It's been 5 days without a double double. Missed it.
We get home, pull into the garage. Do one last check on the tire...note the proper prairie flat spot appearing and the second row of knobbies are now gone!
3176 km or 1974 miles done.
Before we head in to see the damage in the house from the last week with 2 teenagers and no parents, we both agree it was too short. We decide next year, we'll go longer. Northern California/Pacific coast seems like a good idea, we think.
Beardo
