We Can't Stop Here....This Is Vet Country.

Day 9 Motorcycle adventure. Nevada. Desert. Long straight boring roads. So after waking up to a park ranger informing me that my $3 change would be on the picnic table in my site under a rock, a quick stop at Starbucks for a decaf latte and use of the WiFi, so as to not to add to the McDonald's counter, which is still at just two, I hit the road. I found that the long straight boring roads of Nevada left me a lot of time to think. And all the thinking I was doing was making he miles just fly by.

They started to fly by a little too quickly in fact. I found myself on what the map shows as a section of US50 called the Loneliest Highway and was getting close to empty on fuel. Uh oh, wait for the next road sign indicating the next town. Austin 65, uh oh. I promptly tucked down on my tank bag as low as I could go, backed off the throttle a hair and began to focus on fuel economy. 5 miles in, still going good.

Look close there is a motorcyclist wandering the desert

10 miles, still good. 20 miles, things are looking up a bit. 30 miles, starting to relax. Then with 25 miles to go, fuel light on, running on reserve fuel. Tuck back down onto tank bag. Back off throttle again. Just watching the miles pass with agony. Finally I rolled into town having done 25 miles on reserve fuel. I breathed a sigh of relief. One of the most stressful moments in the trip.

Trip F means reserve fuel.

I set out from Austin in good spirit, as I had not run out of fuel. Up and over a little Nevada pass and there are signs for construction and "30 Minute Delay Possible". Hrmm, not really keen on the idea of a 30 minute traffic jam in the middle of nowhere. It turns out that there was a crew working about a 10 mile section of road and had it closed to just one lane. They had a pilot car running the section (sort of a theme for my trip I think this was my 5th or 6th time following a pilot car) As I neared the place where the crew had the cars stopped, I was immediately accosted by one of the grizzly looking construction workers. "What kind of bike is that?" "Yamaha, 600." "Boy I bet that gets good gas mileage!" "Yeah, about 60." just then an old grizzled, tattooed guy on a Harley tricycle rolls up behind me, this distracts the construction worker, and he starts accosting the Harley guy instead, clearly good gas mileage takes a backseat to Harley Davidson's potato, potato, potato (say potato many times fast, you sound just like a Harley) exhaust note.

 Fine by me, I get off my bike to stretch my legs, bad idea, I get accosted by the construction worker again, "Hey look at this thing! (referring to a GPS the Harley rider has mounted to his bike) You got one of these?" "Uhhh..." cutting over top of me, "How does that thing work?" he directs the question to the Harley rider, I watch as the two baboon like men fumble with the GPS trying to get it to work. "Now whats the deal with this thing?" the Harley rider says. For the next 15 minutes waiting for the pilot car to arrive, I am unwillingly regaled with tales of Harley rides he has done, his "Old lady" back at home, all about how he was in the Army in the Vietnam war, the various mechanical difficulties he's had with his Harley, how "back in 81" how he busted up his leg when he crashed riding too fast, and how afterwards he could support a motorcycle, so go the tricycle instead. How, as soon as you buy a Harley you have to put pipes on it and a different breather so that it runs properly, and on, and on, and on. I was so excited to be stuck behind a slow moving truck for the next 10 miles.

So after saying a heartfelt goodbye to my new biker buddy, I was on the road again. And I hit another milestone somewhere in the Nevada desert. 3000 miles of adventure in 8.5 days. So I stopped to take some pictures. And was back on the road again.

Not an entirely bad place to stop and reflect on the past 3000 miles

So I was on the road again, and the miles were really flying again. Before I knew it I was nearing the border of Utah. I stopped in a little town called Ely, and just rested in the shade of tree for a while, as I was making good time, and was feeling a little tired. I used the opportunity to call and catch up with my amazing girlfriend back home, and after about an hour was ready to hit the road again.

The Utah border came and went and I was on an incredibly desolate stretch of highway when I saw a snake on the road, I slowed and turned around intending to take a picture of the snake, but I made my U-turn right behind a guy on a little scooter, putzing across the desert. So I decided to chat with him. Turns out he was making his way from Grand Rapids, to northern California, all at 30mph on his $500 Yamaha scooter, that brave, crazy, stupid and awesome all at once. After a chat, I turned back around and after stopping to admire another amazing sunset, pulled into Delta Utah. I was hungry, and after asking around, I found a pizza place called Lotsa Motsa, which was actually really good. I had a pepperoni, pineapple and jalapeno pizza as per my usual. Then found an RV park through some online queries that gave me a discount on the usual tent rate and set up for the night.

Motorcycling Reflection: Inside the Helmet. I thought a lot today about how the human experience is both so unique to individuals, and yet universal throughout our species. While we may do different things to bring joy, and while different occurrences bring sorrow to us all in unique ways, we as humans all feel these emotions. I think that's something that, especially in our society of egocentric thought, that we should be reminded of often. It binds us together, and makes singular struggles or triumphs, something that can be shared across communities, nations and the world.

Mileage Day 9 - 470
Cumulative Mileage - 3145
Song I sang most in my helmet - I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts
Continental Divide Counter - 8
McDonald's Counter - Still just the two from the first two days.

P.S. I want to thank everyone who has been following, reading, commenting via the blog or Facebook. I appreciate all the kind words, the support, and encouragement. I wish I had time on the road to respond to it all, but finding time to do this is hard as it is, but it has not gone unnoticed!

Dinner! AND Breakfast!

As In Life, Motorcycling Has Ups and Downs

Day 8 Motorcycle adventure. As in with so many other things in life, Motorcycling across the country has up moments and it has down moments, today was full of both, both literally and figuratively. I started the day riding on an absolutely awesome section of highway 20 that led away from the California coast and Fort Bragg where I had stayed the night. So after a brief but rueful goodbye to the Pacific I was winding my way through the coastal range on a road very similar to the one I had used to get to the coast the previous evening. What a difference being well rested makes. I didn't have any scary corners, I was just loving the flow from apex to apex pushing the bike hard, but always under control. I was absolutely loving this piece of road.

As I came down out of the mountains, where to add to my elation, I had amazingly, not gotten stuck behind one slow moving car or truck, I found myself in need of some fuel. I stopped at a gas station in Willits, CA and found that attached to the gas station was a little Taqueria that boasted in the window "Best Mexican Food in Town" obviously I had to see about that. I was blown away. I ordered two Tacos Al Pastor and proceeded to wolf them down with ravenous abandon. They were probably the best tacos I've ever had. I ordered two more. Wolfed them down just as lustily. Washed it all down with a litre of Mexican Coca-Cola and what a great start to the day. I walked outside and hit a milestone in my trip. I took the rain liner out of my pants, took out my winter liner and changed to my summer gloves. I was well and truly WARM!

Well, since I was now down in elevation, but up in mood, I guess the universe had to even things out. The valley I was riding through was hot. I started to get a little uncomfortable, but no big deal, I'm no stranger to hot days in leather. Them temperature got up to 95F on my on board thermometer. But the traffic was starting to pick up, and more and more often I found myself behind a slow moving car, or even worse being tailgated by someone trying to go 90 miles an hour. Then as I was navigating a small pass, coming through a long sweeping bend I got a shooting pain in my left forearm, I knew immediately what was happening, my sleeve was not tucked into my gloves as to allow the wind to pass through, and I had gotten a bee in my sleeve. The bastard stung me. And to think in high school, I befriended a wasp who I named Bo. I guess this guy didn't get the memo that I'm cool with bees as long as they don't sting me. So I promptly pulled the bike over, and on the side of the highway, hopping around like a madman threw off my glove, and started whipping my sleeve around to get the bee out. The little guy came shooting out, hit the ground, and I stomped him good, all whilst calling him all kinds of names I wouldn't want my mother to hear. You get out what you put in bee, bummer that you stung me. As you can see from the picture, it was actually a wasp, and therefore didn't leave a stinger in my arm, but man alive it hurt like hell.

So there was nothing else to do but hop back on the bike and keep riding. I kept a diligent awareness on how I was feeling, now not only was I hot, probably mildly dehydrated, but I now had a sting to worry about, the last thing I needed was to go into anaphylactic shock while riding a motorcycle. I am not allergic to stings, but of course I wanted to make sure to be mindful. I continued to feel ok so I kept riding and had probably the most miserable point in my day as I entered the Yuba City area. It was miserably hot, and I think I found every single red light in the horrible town. I was soooo uncomfortable. I get asked a lot if the leather is hot on hot days, and I always reply its not bad at all, as long as I'm moving. Well I wasn't moving in this town. and I was hot. When I get hot, I get mad. I was shouting a lot in Yuba City, a place I will never return if I can help it. But then, gloriously as I exited the town, the road started going up. And up, and up. The road wasn't just straight anymore, there were twists and turns. My mood improved so quickly, I was laughing in my helmet, for no real reason other than, there weren't cars everywhere, and the temperature was totally manageable again.

Looking out over Lake Tahoe as the sun got low in the sky.

Motorcycling Reflection: Inside the Helmet. How is it that water holds such awe for us on the whole? Large bodies of water seem so beautiful, whether the ocean, a pristine mountain lake, or a rushing river. Rain and snow are so often romanticized in literature and cinema. But then, water is the key ingredient to life, so it makes sense that we hold it in such high regard. I had just never really appreciated how universal the reverence for water in it's many forms, actually is.

As I neared Lake Tahoe, I stopped in the small town of Trukee, and had a burger at a place called Burger Me. It was a restaurant featured on the food network show Diners Drive-Ins and Dives, so I had high hopes. I was not disappointed. A big juicy burger with bleu cheese, bacon, sauteed mushrooms, and barbecue sauce, along with basket of onion rings was just what the doctor ordered after a long day of riding.  This was definitely a high moment. I then set out, the scenic route around Lake Tahoe, which made for some beautiful riding at the end of the day. 

Then as the sun went down, I crossed into Nevada and I descended into Carson City. I decided that I was going to stop at the first casino I came across and do one slot machine, just so I had the full Nevada experience. The place that drew me in was called Casino Fandango, I put a dollar in one of the slot machines, pulled the lever and lost a dollar, ah well thats why I don't gamble. But I had forgotten to bring my camera in so as to document my genuine Nevada casino experience, so I went back outside got my camera, and as I was taking a picture of the slot machine that ate my dollar, decided to do one more for the heck of it. I won big. So I cashed out before I got behind and made off with my money. Take that casino boss!

The sun was going down fast at this point, so I was looking for a place to stay. I came across a state park with camping just outside the town of Dayton, so it was there that I stopped for the night, set up my tent, and called it another day in the bag. It was all in all a good day. While some of the time there were some maddening moments, most of time it was great.

Mileage Day 8 - 333

Cumulative Miles - 2670

Song I sang most in my helmet - Yelling at the red lights in Yuba City by Michael Christopher (not actually a song per se)

Continental Divide Counter - 8

Here is an update on my bee sting, it itches some, but is mostly not bothering me anymore, its not really even swollen.

Alea Iacta Est

Day 7 Motorcycle adventure. I started today having breakfast in a local coffee shop in the small town of Bandon Oregon. it was nice to just sit and relax to start the day off. Then away I went toward the border. I finally hit California. After a short final blast down the Oregon coast, I crossed into California. There is something about knowing I'm in California that just put a smile on my face. The 101 here has a lot more sections that are freeway style rather than two lane byway style, which makes things a little less scenic, but also made the miles go much faster.

I saw a ton of condor in California, which was awesome, I don't think I have seen them in the wild before. Come to think of it I have seen a ton of all sorts of birds of prey on this trip. So probably one of the quickest  legs of the trip. Small towns, fast speed limits, coast, forest, mountains, repeat.

Then I hit the Avenue of the Giants, it's a 37 mile section of old 101 that goes through a giant redwood grove. It was just stunning to ride through. The trees are just SO big. Riding through this section really feels timeless. You get the sense that time just runs slower around these ancient trees. I felt like it could have been any era when I exited the forest. Even the small towns along the route seem frozen in time.

So riding through the redwoods was beautiful, but because I spent a long time in the morning at the coffee shop and got a late start, the sun was starting to get a little low in the sky for me, and I wanted to find a place to settle down for the night before it got dark. I didn't really want to do any night riding on this trip because its less scenic, and more dangerous especially on twisty roads.

My original plan was to stay on 101 until highway 20 and cut across California that way. But looking at the map late in the day, I decided that I couldn't leave California without seeing the coast one last time. So a last second decision and a right turn onto California highway 1, and a somewhat scary ride began. It was the end of the day so I was tired, and the highway was some of the tightest turniest road that I've ever been on, I was impatient to be at the campsite for the night and was riding a little too fast. 

I had a couple of scary corners, and then on top of everything the sun went down and I was riding in the dark. But I was pretty well committed to the route, and so continued somewhat impatiently towards Fort Bragg, where I had decided to stay for the night. The coast was beautiful though and it was worth it to be a little frustrated with my route for a time. It was however foggy and cold at 9:30 at night, and I didn't want to be cold all night so I decided to get a hotel instead. I checked into the Ocean Side Inn so here I am.

The sunset was really awesome to witness. I was riding when it went down, so didn't get any pictures of it but the sun was bright red for whatever reason, and even after when I got to the coast the red hue still lingered on the horizon.

Mileage Day 7 - 362

Cumulative Mileage - 2336

Song I sang most in my helmet - Sail by AWOLNATION

Continental Divide Counter - 8

Pacific Coast 101

Well, I'm finally getting caught back up on the blog. Day 6 Motorcycle adventure. Today I hit the coast. It was incredible. It has been far too long since I have been at the ocean. I got a late start heading out of Seattle on I-5 around 11am. I really wasn't enjoying myself on the interstate very much and may or may not have been going a little too fast to get onto the highways again. And what I've been looking forward to the whole trip finally arrived. I hit the 101 pacific coastal highway. The weather was great, the sun shining, and although the highway was busy at times, for the most part I wasn't every really stuck behind anyone.

The bridge from Washington to Oregon was really cool. Its almost 4 miles long across the Columbia river. While the Washington coast was mostly underwhelming, and mostly well away from the coast. The Oregon coast was stunning, and right along the water. This leg of the trip once again was where the miles were flying by. I kept just wanting to ride. Photo ops came second to the gorgeous twisting roads. Here is some video of me riding down the coastal highway if you want to ride along with me. The camera picks up the sound of the exhaust most at like 7500 RPM, so that's what the extra noisy blurts are.

I rode through Tillamook, where the cheese factory is, and considered taking a tour and getting some samples, but again, riding was just so enjoyable I didn't want to stop even for gas. Speaking of which, every single gas station I've been to in Oregon is full service. It caught me off guard the first time I stopped, as this guy just came over to me and was kind of creeping on me. I had my earplugs in so couldn't hear him through my helmet, I thought at first that he was begging for money. I convinced him to let me pump the gas myself, but still he ran my card for me and turned the pump on. Weird. Perhaps they have a lot of people huffing gas or something and its regulated through full service stations to combat that. I don't like it.

I feel at peace next to the ocean. I've always felt that a lack of oceanfront is the only thing missing from Colorado. I would only ever consider moving to somewhere with an ocean if I were to leave Colorado.

Motorcycling Reflection: Inside the Helmet. Today brought to mind the Nietzsche-an philosophy of eternal recurrence. This is the thought that we will live our lives through an infinite number of times, in the exact manner that we live right now, so everything you do must be done in such a manner that if forced to do it again, you would not do it any differently and have no regrets. It struck me that this trip has been an occasion that falls directly into that category. So far there have been amazingly good moments and incredibly miserable moments (snow and 35F in Yellowstone come to mind) but its all part of a whole that I wouldn't want to change in any way. Riding down a coastal highway with the glare of the sun off the water and the salt breeze, I know if I have to do this over, I will, gladly.

So as I made my way down the coast and the sun got lower and lower in the sky I knew I would need to find a place to stay for the night, and camping was the only option in my mind. I found a state park to camp in called Sunset Bay and was able to witness the incredible sight that is it's namesake.  A beautiful sight to see before going to bed in a beautiful campsite just away from the beach.

Waking up in camp, the morning was humid and brisk, but is warming up very quickly. I have a good day ahead of me, into California, and through some Sequoia forests, another part of the trip that I am looking forward to greatly.

Here is a quick video, being irresponsible in a tunnel.

Mileage Day 6 - 415

Cumulative Mileage - 1975

Song I sang most in my helmet: Wonder Boy by Tenacious D

Continental Divide Counter: 8

Family, Friends and Firs

I arrived in Seattle the evening of the 25th, and the fun just began from there. While in Seattle I was staying with my Aunt Katy, Uncle Carl, and two cousins Bailey and Greta. It was such a nice stay. I was immediately thrust into the amazing hospitality, scintillating conversation and warmth that I have always experienced at the hands of the Lloyd/Guess household. I stayed up far too late talking and went to bed in great spirits, clean, warm, and dry.

 On Saturday, after an extremely lazy morning, I decided to take the ferry with my cousin Greta, across the water to the Olympic peninsula to visit Pilgrim Firs, the summer camp I attended from middle through high school. There were supposed to be some people at the camp working on it before camp season.

When I arrived I was greeted with the sights, sounds and smells that I came to love growing up. The big field where I played countless ultimate frisbee games, the main lodge, with all the crafts, mail calls, rambunctious grace songs at meal times, and the week end dances. All the cabins where so many funny stories were made. It was pretty incredible to be back in that place. Then it got even better, as one of the people there working on the camp was none other than a great friend of mine from my days as a camper, Boone. We exchanged stories, laughed about all the antics, the people and the place that I loved so much. The experience of being back at Pilgrim Firs made me realize that I missed the place more than I knew I had. I hadn't been there for 8 years, yet everything was the same. The place is timeless, and the feelings surrounding it are just as timeless. I ended my stay at Pilgrim Firs with great people, sitting around the fire, down by lake Flora, making smores and skipping rocks. The feeling was indescribably amazing. I left with the promise of considering counseling next summer, and went back to Seattle.

On Sunday, after an even lazier morning (I woke up at noon, something I haven't done in probably years) I went with Carl to a neighbor's house who was helping him make a trellis for their backyard out of iron, welding was involved. Sean, the neighbor, is big into cycling and has made some really neat bikes.

I got to ride a couple of his bikes, including this really neat and really long cruiser bike. It has a flamethrower, but I didn't get to play with that. I then got to do some welding, which was a first for me. I think I took to it pretty well.

Katy then whisked me away from the heat, sparks and danger of the neighborhood metal working pseudo-factory, and took me to dinner at a nice seafood restaurant on Alki beach. I had fish tacos, which were huge, and incredible and had great conversation with Katy about relationships, philosophy, and life in general. After a great dinner, and back at the house, I had more great conversation with Carl, and as per the usual, stayed up past a reasonable hour talking.

I took my time getting ready to leave Monday morning, as I was really not wanting to leave Seattle. It is such a great place, made even better by the people. I am resolved to get back there sooner rather than later. Packing to an incredibly short time, thought it was made slightly longer by the fact that my cousin Bailey had slipped sticky notes reading, "I love Taylor Swift" into just about every space, pocket, shoe, and glove that could hold such mischief. But before I knew it I was packed and ready to go, and after saying my farewells I hit the road.

Miles of Mirth

First, may I say thank you for waiting patiently for this post, arrival in Seattle has not lent itself to spending time writing as there has been so much fun stuff to do. 

Day 3 of my motorcycle trip, today I smiled a lot. I began my day in Missoula Montana, having spent the night in a cheap motel. I gave my motorcycle a quick wash at a local car wash, as it had accumulated quite the dose of mud and road grime from the previous day's adventures. So with a shining motorcycle I scooted out of town. I remarked to myself how, the larger the town is, the less enjoyable it is to ride within the city limits, in the context of this trip, I just long for open road. So off I went and began a the climb up US12 towards the Idaho border, not realizing that I was embarking on what became my favorite leg of the trip so far. US12 was amazing, the road was great, the scenery was stunningly beautiful and the speed limit was 70 which allowed me to feel like I was flying through this section of awesome twisting road. The speed limit promptly dropped when I crossed the border into Idaho, but the route became even more beautiful and twisting.

US12 into Idaho follows right along the Lochsa river, and because of that is some of the most consistently twisty roads that I have been on. It made for an absolutely joyous ride. There was hardly any cars on the road. I had about 100 miles without being passed by anyone or coming up behind anyone going my same direction, it was amazing. There were 150 ft pines, lining the road on both sides and the river was ever present, growning in size as I descended into Idaho. The width of the river grew and grew, from probably about 20 ft across to close on 200 ft across as it began to level out and flow slower as I got closer to the Washington border. The miles flew by in Idaho, because I was so focused on the beauty of the route. I stopped in a little town along the river at one point and chatted with a couple of old guys from Calgary on BMW motorcycles. "Which way are you headed?" one of them asked me. "Seattle" I replied. "Which way are you headed" he says again. "US12 across Idaho, I can't remember my exact route through Washington." I received a scowl back. "Are you familiar with the roads here?" one asked. "No, not really but I have my maps." I reply, as I show them my stack of mutilated road atlases. "Well there is a great road that snakes down into Oregon." one says as he points on the map, "Then you can take this forest road back up into Washington." "Well I'm not sure I will have time for that, I'm trying to make it to Seattle by today." I say (at Noon in the middle of Idaho). "Ohhhh...." one moans, "You're going to have a sore ass." one says. "Haha, I should be fine, I'm no stranger to long days in the saddle." I reply. "Well... you won't have time to ride through Oregon. Have a good trip." One says while the other remain silent. "Thank you, you too." I say. I guess my riding style, with high miles and less stops, isn't for everyone, I got the sense that these guys thought I was nuts to aspire to a 600 mile day. So off I went.

As I crossed Idaho the road became more populated. The road straightened out, and had many more cars on it. As I neared the Washington border, I was in need of fuel for myself and my motorcycle, so I planned on stopping in Lewiston ID, sister city of Clarkston WA, across the river and border. That plan promptly changed as I entered Lewiston. The entire town smelled like a dumpster. I wanted to get out as soon as possible. I'm not sure whether they had their dump too close to town, or if the smell was the product of some industry there (there was a big factory as I entered the town) but it was pretty awful. So Clarkston and Washington it was. The smell went away as soon as I had crossed into Clarkston so I stopped for gas then a burger at a greaseball drive in that skeeved me out a bit. The burger was amazingly mediocre, but put some food in my stomach so I left Clarkston. I reflected that maybe Lewis was the stinky one on the trail, Clark was a poor cook, and the towns were just trying to live up to the reputation of the explorers. I should have tried to find Sacajaweaton. So after an underwhelming jaunt through history, I set off across Washington. The country was pretty in a very different way than the pass into Idaho. There were rolling hills everywhere. I passed a big wind farm with tons of huge windmills. Here once again, the miles began to fly by as I was focused now, on making good time.

I really like US12 it has a lot of really good legs. As I crossed through Yakima Washington, I once again found my route took me on US12 and over some mountain passes. I was aiming to go through Rainier National Park and was once again on some fun winding roads. The weather near Rainier is crazy. There is snow up on top of passes that are only at 4200 ft above sea level. By all rights there shouldnt be snow there from February through November, but there was LOADS of snow. Rainier is a 14,400 foot mountain surrounded by 3000 and 4000 ft elevations. Because of this the mountain creates its own weather patterns and there is some pretty weird stuff because of that. But seeing the mountain, looming over the rest of the dwarfed peaks, is an awesome sight. It's pretty indescribable to see such a tall peak, when none around it are even anywhere close to its size. We may have a lot of 14ers in Colorado, but we don't have any this powerfully immense.

So down into the park itself and my first taste of the smell of an olympic rainforest. It was incredible. I went to a summer camp in Washington all throughout middle and high school and the smell of cedar pines, and dense underbrush and the sweet smell of wet humus on the forest floor. It is an incredibly sentimental smell for me and I absolutely loved going through the park. I came out of the park and into the outlying suburbs of Seattle and the sun was setting. So now just on to my aunt and uncle's house. For the first time on the trip I used the navigation function on my phone, just so I could sort of check out and follow directions through the big city to their house. The navigation took me on a really stupid route, so I'm glad that most of the time I don't rely on those stupid things. I arrived safely at about 10 at night and was so greatful to have a comfortable and familiar place to stay for the weekend.

So there is a lot to do in Seattle and not anywhere near enough time to do it but I will be making the most of my stay here, that much can be certain. Once again, sorry for taking the extra couple days to update this, I will get back on schedule tonight.

Mileage Day 3 - 611

Cumulative Mileage - 1540

Song I sang most in my helmet - The Elephant March from the Jungle book. "In the military style!"

Continental Divide counter - 8

Chasing the Sun, Taming the Sky

Day 2 of my motorcycling adventure. I woke up this morning in Lander WY, it had rained all night and I was mildly moist, mostly on my feet from touching the sides of the tent. I crawled out of my little shelter at around 7 and methodically began my day, packing everything up just so. I have found that I become very habit driven and methodical when taking a motorcycle trip, I am always double checking things, wallet is in my pocket, credit card is in my wallet, wallet pocket is zipped up, with all the gear I am carrying it would certainly be easy to misplace something, so that's why I take my time and double check.

So after getting ready I set off to McDonald's for a quick and hot breakfast, borrowed their WiFi to upload some pictures and off I went down the road. The day had turned beautiful from the overcast sprinkle that I had woken up to. I was optimistic that the weather would really cooperate today. I was wrong. As I got into a little town outside Teton National Forest, it began to snow, that's right, snow. I pulled into a gas station, which just so happened to house the world's largest jackalope (displayed in front of an American flag, nice touch), weighing in at a claimed 437 lbs, and I put the chemical hand warmers in my gloves. That means this trip was about to get real.

As I rode up towards my first Continental Divide pass of the day, Togwotee Pass, I was riding through a mixture of gorgeous sunlit mountain scenery and dreary cloudcover with anything between light flurries and downright blizzard conditions. CONTINENTAL DIVIDE COUNTER: 4. For whatever reason, although my map shows clearly that this first pass was a Continental Divide pass, I either missed the sign or it wasn't signed, so I have no picture of that. As I came down off the pass, there was construction being done to the road to the tune of there was no pavement and there were construction company pickup trucks leading lines of cars throught the roughly 5 or so miles of 1.5 lane dirt road where a nice two lane highway should be. To add to the stress of descending a mountain pass on dirt, on a motorcycle it was of course at this point, snowing and the dirt had all turned to mud. I was in the zone for those 5 miles, I couldn't tell you anything about the scenery outside of the best lines on the ground to not get stuck, or dump my motorcycle. After that was done, I descended into a gorgeous valley that led me into Grand Teton National Park. From there the game of cat and mouse with the sun began.

Motorcycling Reflection: Inside the Helmet. With snow on the mind, and literally on my head, I thought of this scenario, somewhere in a cloud, two snowflakes are formed. They float down to the earth together, and land next to one another on the peak of a mountain. There they sit, next to each other just being snowflakes. Then one day a gust of wind comes up, it blows one of the snowflakes a couple inches away. No big deal, the snowflakes still do their snowflake thing together, albeit slightly further apart. Then spring comes, the snow flakes down below them start to melt away, but not the two snowflakes at the top. But finally on a hot summer day the two snowflakes on top of the mountain melt and begin to flow downhill, but because the wind blew them slightly apart, they flow down opposite sides of the mountain. They flow into little snow melt streams, then mountain creeks, then into rushing rivers, then finally, lazily, they flow into separate oceans. There the two once snowflakes live out their once snowflake lives, completely separated, worlds apart, but perhaps never quite forgetting what it was to be a snowflake on a mountaintop with a snowflake friend to spend the days with. Then after being in the ocean for ages, the snowflakes are both evaporated from the surface, brought up into the clouds and with wind and time, brought back together, where they float down together onto a mountaintop again. I thought that scenario is a good representation of how friendships are made and how even though throughout life, we cant always be near the people we love, we never forget them, and trust that one day, because the friendship is strong, that we will see them again.

When I entered Yellowstone, I made a brief stop to take some pictures of the Japanese tourists and admire how they literally will take a picture of ANYTHING, and went on my way. I was pretty determined to make some good time despite the weather and the dirt/mud road debacle. But alas being that I was in one of the most famous national parks in the country, it was pretty heavy with traffic and VERY heavy with more snow. I crossed in the park not one, not two but three iterations of the continental divide:

 CONTINENTAL DIVIDE COUNTER: 7

So I blasted through Yellowstone, pretty well, all things considered, but still felt behind schedule as I entered Montana. The sign announcing Montana was very small, in fact I passed it and had to turn back around. But I suppose if you are a state as big as Montana, you don't feel like you need to prove anything with your welcome signs. I wonder how big the sign is for Rhode Island..... compensating for anything perhaps?

As far as I'm concerned Montana is amazing. The roads here are in great shape, and all have a speed limit that is about 20mph too fast, the country is beautiful, and this is where the blasted snow finally stopped. In fact it got all the way up to about 60F degrees! ( At one point in Yellowstone, coming over a pass, I saw 36F, average was probably 44F) I flew through Montana, everytime I looked at the map I was surprised with how far I was, how quickly the miles were going by. Every highway I was on was a 70mph speed limit. And they were FUN! Twists and turns, and short little straights, it made me feel like I was going fast enough to get pulled over, those kinds of roads in Colorado have a 45, maybe 55 mph limit, but not Montana. This is big sky country, this is where the buffalo roam. (or so the road signs would lead you to believe.) So that was my afternoon. West Yellowstone, Ennis, Three Forks, Townsend, Helena, Missoula. The miles and the towns flew by. I hardly stopped at all. So here I am in Missoula, I coughed up for a hotel room to let my tent dry out, and my core temperature come back up to normal. Another great day in the bag.

Mileage Day 2: 530

Cumulative Mileage: 919

Song I sang most in my helmet: "The rain rain rain came down down down" from Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery day, with snow substituted for rain in the lyrics.

Continental Divide Counter: 8

PS. I saw a marmot, nuff said.