Part One
Hyder Seek, Oregon and Washington
It had been a while since I have run a season long tour. This year I selected the AMA’s America's Smallest Grand Tour. It required a visit to the smallest incorporated town in each of the fifty states. One did not need to visit each state to finish, however. Three was the minimum to be a finisher and to qualify for one entry into the grand prize drawing at the end of the year. Heck, even out here in the west where the states are large, three states should be easy.
Also for 2004, my wife and I planned to attend the annual Hyder Seek run in late May. Hyder Seek celebrates Ron Ayres recorded setting 49-state ride a few years ago. See, <http://www.ironbutt.com/rides/4910.htm>. The town of Hyder is in Alaska’s southern panhandle, which means Oregon and Washington are on the way, making this ride a perfect opportunity to start America’s Smallest Grand Tour.
My wife and I left home on Sunday, May 23rd. We rode to Susanville for our first overnighter. We left Susanville the next morning traveling 139 to 299 to Alturas where we began north on US395 into Oregon. At John Day we took US26 to OR7 to Sumpter, then northwest on Road 51 to Granite.
The AMA’s tour instructions listed Granite as Oregon’s smallest town. Granite spared no expense on their town signs. We took photos under a wooden arch with the town name, and next to the “Grant County welcomes you to Granite” sign. The first town of the tour was checked off the list.
Although the road from Sumpter to Granite and then back out to the interstate is a forest service road, the surface was decent two-lane asphalt. There was very little traffic, and an abundance of wildlife. Two elk herds were seen; one herd was jumping across the road in front of us. Also, a big fat porcupine waddled out of our way. We’d never seen a porcupine up close before. Several days later on our way home, my wife and I agreed that this part of the ride was the most scenic of our whole trip.
After Granite, we made our way to I84, via the forest road and OR244. We stopped in Pendleton. It was just after dark when we pulled into the parking lot of a modest looking motel. The desk clerk was a friendly guy, he asked us where we were from, where we were going. We said from California, riding up through Canada, and into Alaska. He looked a bit excited and said that another couple had registered an hour or so ago. They were on a Goldwing, riding from Canada down to California. I didn’t see as much irony in that fact as he did, but I smiled and nodded. Like I said, he was just trying to be friendly.
He recommended the steak house in town that he’d sent the Goldwing couple. We got into our room, cleaned up a bit and started walking through the quite streets of downtown Pendleton. We get to the restaurant and are told, sorry; they just stopped serving. The manager tells us that the Rainbow is open for burgers. We thank him and walk off in the direction he pointed.
Just a few blocks down we see a lit neon sign advertising the Rainbow. We walk inside and find an old western bar and grill. There was a long bar in the front, then a couple pool tables. In the back was a small restaurant that served fine food. I knew right away the food was fine, because there was another neon sign inside the restaurant that said so. We took our seats at the empty counter. A somewhat curmudgeonly older cook served us a “fine” burger and BLT.
The next morning we head into Washington, up I82 the off onto WA225 and 240. We cross the Columbia and continue north on WA243. We turned west for a short ride to the town of Vantage, the smallest town for the state of Washington.
We ride around Vantage for a few minutes but I can’t find a city limits sign or a city hall. The town looks like it’s mostly made up of private residences along the Columbia, and a few small businesses.
I was just getting ready to take a picture of my bike in front of one of the small businesses that included the name Vantage in their sign, when I spotted a building with roll-up doors and a sign indicating it was a fire station. The sign read, “Vantage Fire K.C.F.D. #4”. By the looks of it, the building was a sub-station for the Kittitas County Fire District. But still it read “Vantage Fire” and was certainly more official than a small private business.
We leave Vantage, and take US97 north along the east side of the Columbia. There was a long stretch of road construction here. The road surface was covered with fine pea size gravel. Not my favorite to ride on two-up on this heavy LT. But I keep my eyes up and our speed steady, we get through without any trouble.
After a night in Winatchee we continue north on US97 to the Canadian border. We had prepared for our Canadian entry by getting our passports a few months before the trip. We chose not to rely on just driver’s license and birth certificates. I’ve read various posts on the LD Riders list and other touring forums about entering Canada. I learned that some people reported being waved into Canada with hardly a second look. Others describe the entry as second only to the Spanish Inquisition. I figured we should be prepared for the worst and hope for the best.
At the border, the custom officer asked all the questions I expected. But after she was done she handed us a yellow slip of paper and sent us into see immigration. She explained that it was because my last trip into Canada had been quite awhile (1989) and my wife had never been to Canada before. We were instructed to pull into the covered building, park, and go inside to the immigration counter. We parked next to a long metal table, which seemed to be there to set the contents of inspected vehicles. Nobody was around; we went inside.
At the immigration window the officer asked a few more detailed questions about our trip, our financial ability to pay our way through Canada and repair our bike if it broke down. She also asked about criminal charges or convictions. Although I thought she was sincere in doing her job, I also suspected she was just asking the usual questions and I never felt singled out or picked on.
She took our passports and disappeared from her window for a couple minutes. I’m sure she was checking our criminal history. She came back in less that five minutes, gave us back our passports, the yellow slip of paper, thanked us and sent us back to customs for a final clearance. I took the yellow slip to the customs window a few feet away. The officer there took it, looked it over for about two seconds and said, “Welcome to Canada.” We rode off into Osoyoos, BC.
We were in BC for two nights, riding up the Cariboo Highway, then west on the Yellowhead Highway. The first night we spent in Clinton, the second in Burns Lake. There wasn’t much to our ride through Canada. It was a nice ride. The roads were pleasant, the hills green, the forests wooded. There were towns and some small cities all along the way for fuel and breaks. But the ride was really nothing spectacular. This was not the adventure tour that my wife and I had thought it would be before leaving. I think we expected too much. The reality was it was just a simple, nice, motorcycle ride. We didn’t spot much wildlife in Canada although we did see two small black bears, and the west end of an eastbound moose.
However, when we turned north on Highway 37 from Kitwanga the countryside became more remote. The last 40 miles to Hyder on 37A were terrific. We rode by our first glacier.
We passed through the little town of Stewart, BC, then just two or three miles down the road we crossed the Alaska state line and into Hyder. Hyder is the first Alaskan town that is accessible by road from the US. Which is why Ron Ayers selected this small town to complete his 49 state ride record a few years before.
We spent a couple nights in a B&B in Hyder, Kathy’s Korner. Nice room, nice owners. We just hung out, had dinner at the Sealaska both Friday and Saturday, with the other Hyder Seek riders. Ron Ayers is a gracious host; he and his wife put a lot of effort into the Hyder Seek event each year and it was very much appreciated.
Sunday we began towards home. We came back the same way we came in, stopping in Williams Lake for just one night in BC on the way back. Once back in the US, the first thing we did was to eat dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Omak, Washington. I’d been jonesing for a chicken enchilada and a chili relleno all week. When we crossed into BC a few days before, we noticed the lack of Mexican Taquerias. We did notice an over abundances of Chinese restaurants. We commented on this observation to our B&B host when we were in Hyder. She explained that when Hong Kong was returned to China a few years ago many Chinese immigrated to BC. I guess there weren’t too many Mexicans forced out of Hong Kong by the communist Chinese.
After our dinner in Omak we went south a bit farther and stayed in Wenatchee once again. The next morning we got up and headed to Mt. St. Helens. The visitor’s center was almost empty and a friendly, but bored ranger took our picture.
After another night was spent near Astoria, Oregon, we toured Ft. Clatsop the next morning.
We very much enjoyed the history of the fort, especially with the 200th anniversary of the Corp of Discovery approaching.
We rode down the northern coast of Oregon, turning inland on OR22. Oregon State Route 22 is another nice two-lane that I made a mental note of to ride again. Once on southbound I5 we turned up the speed and spent the last night of our ride in Grants Pass. As I mentioned before Kay and I agreed that Oregon, both up and back, was the best part of the ride. We plan to go back to Oregon for a week or two, maybe next year.
We encountered some showers or rain every day of the trip except the last two coming home. We were pulling into our driveway the next day by mid-afternoon. There was another 4200 miles on the LT’s odometer.
Part Two
Nevada and Arizona
A couple weeks later I took off for a two-night ride on my own. I was after the tour towns of Goodsprings, Nevada, and Jerome, Arizona.
I took my personal favorite route into southern Nevada by making my way over to Sierras by way of CA4, O’Byrne’s Ferry Road, CA49, and CA120 through Yosemite. Then south on US395 to Big Pine, where I turned east on CA168. 168 is a great ride, I especially like the one-lane section through the tight canyon walls near Westgard Pass. I pass a road junction for a shortcut to Scotty’s Castle in Death Valley. I know this way would cut off several miles towards my destination, but the road is unpaved and probably rough in sections. I keep the LT on the longer, paved route.
As I continue farther east I realize I’m closing in on a slower moving eastbound thunderstorm. At a wide spot in the road called Oasis, I stop for a few minutes and put on my rain gear. I enter Nevada on NV266 and make my way towards US95. It’s along this part that I hit the rain and gusting winds of the storm. I hate wind, especially gusts. I’d rather ride in rain with no wind than wind gusts with no rain. But there isn’t much traffic out here and soon I get to US95 where I turn south, I pick up the pace and gradually leave the storm behind. I get a room in Beatty in the Stagecoach Hotel.
After checking in and cleaning up in my room I walk over to the convenience store. On the way back I see an 1100 RT parked next to my LT. Texas plates and an Iron Butt Rally plate frame. The rider is wiping oil from the right side of the machine. He introduces himself as Heines. Yes he was from Texas, and he’s a veteran of three Iron Butt Rallies. This trip for him was a loop around the western U.S. to see any roads that he hadn’t been on before. He asks me if I was aware of the dirt road that runs south to Scotty’s Castle? I said yeah, I’d passed it myself just a while ago, but being on the LT I chose to stay on the main road. He says he wished he’d made the same choice now himself. Seems he took the road on his RT, went down in a gravel stop and a rock tore a crack in the right head. The motor was pumping out oil and he barely made it to Scotty’s Castle. He was able to get several quarts of oil from a commercial truck and he made it this far. He had a call into Iron House in Tucson for overnight parts. He was getting the RT cleaned up as best he could, then he was going to relax in the pool for a while and take care of things tomorrow. I wished him well, told him my room number if there was anything I could do. When I left the next morning the RT was still there and I guessed Heines was sleeping in waiting on the parts delivery.
I continued my trip down 95, then out NV160 through Pahrump to avoid most of Las Vegas. I rode over the Mountain Springs summit, and just into the southern outskirts of Las Vegas I pickup I15 south. A few miles down the super slab I take the Jean exit and ride the short six or seven miles to Goodsprings on NV161.
On the edge of town there is a welcome to Goodsprings sign posted on a hill a few yards above the roadway. But there is no asphalt shoulder, and the dirt shoulder is rough and slopes off rather sharply into the sagebrush. I keep going. Once in town I find the elementary school and next to that is a large mobile home that serves as the Goodsprings branch of the Clark County Library. Perfect. Back down 161 for breakfast at one of the Jean casino-hotels at I15.
Back on the bike I tune Rush in on the radio and get through Vegas without any delays. For the third or maybe fourth time since 9/11 I ride over Hoover Dam. Still no interstate trucks allowed. Nice. I notice that construction is sure cranking away at the highway by-pass that will get traffic off of the dam itself.
US93 to Kingman, then east on I40. I exit at Ash Fork and ride south on AZ89. I go through Chino Valley and enter the north end of Prescott. It has been at least three years since I came through this area; I notice a definite increase in traffic and new housing.
Once I was on AZ89 I start seeing copious amounts of Harley riders. All look like day riders. In fact, so far on this trip I’ve passed very few riders that appeared to be touring. And all of those have been on the interstate.
I turn east on AZ89A where I end up in Jerome for another photo-op. Jerome is an old mining town literally built on a hillside. The road though town is narrow and winding. I pass the front of the firehouse, but of course, there is no parking in front and there did not look to be any other place to park to get the required view of my bike and the sign. I wind through town a bit farther, passing more Harley’s parked along the precious curbside parking spots.
Soon I spot the town police department ahead. Although there wasn’t a formal parking spot available, I nose in towards the curb between one parking spot and another spot reserved for PD vehicles. I click away fast, and remount. I start to back out, thanks to the reverse gear, but I have to wait for a parade of Milwaukee riders to pass, some of them paddle walking along, two-up. I continue east with the flow of Harleys thinking I might end up in Cottonwood. But I finally find a spot wide enough to U-Turn this Teutonic hippo. Back I go westbound. I treat myself to a nice steak dinner at the Prescott Resort. No room available, though, as there was a conference of Arizona fire fighter administrators at the resort. I head north a bit and check in at the Antelope Hills Inn for the night.
The next day I ride home to Napa, 800 some odd miles. Early in the day I take the US66 by-pass off of I40 between Ash Fork and Kingman for a change of pace. This section of Route 66 is the longest, intact, remaining section of the old mother road. The rest of the ride home is straightforward; it’s miles and miles of miles and miles that I’ve covered countless times before.
Part Three
Riding with the Posse; Utah and Idaho
At the end of August the
Curve
Cowboy Reunion was scheduled in Colorado.
CCR is a rally primarily for LT riders. Due to my wife and I have
ridden to Hyder Seek in May and my personal obligation to the Blue
Knights West Coast conference earlier in August, we were not able to
attend CCR. However, I was able to manage a few days off alone. So I
rode out with the NorCal HDDC Posse for the their first couple days
east.
We left A&S Cycles in
Sacramento, Saturday morning, August 28th. We rode east on
I80, over Donner Pass, and into Nevada, At Fernley we made our way
southeast on US Alt-50 to Fallon. In Fallon we stopped for lunch at
the Sonic Drive-in. We continued east on US50 and a stop was made at
the Highway 50 shoetree, where a few riders did their best to join
the shoetree club.
Moving out on US50, aka:
‚"The Loneliest Highway in the America"‚ we took the NV722
detour and rode over Carroll Summit. It was a nice diversion from 50
for a while. A bit later in the day, somewhere between Austin and
Eureka, one of the riders moved out ahead of the rest of us. He was
making great time until a Nevada state employee invited him to a
roadside chat regarding his doing "the ton".
Eventually, and perhaps
remarkably, we all made it to Ely for a night at the Hotel
Nevada. We passed the time that evening
with dinner, drinks and turning a few cards.
After a bit of a late start on
Sunday we continued east towards Utah. Unfortunately, one of the LT's
suffered the notorious rear-end drive failure just short of the Utah
border. The group pulled to a stop. Cell phones and cameras came out
and a few minutes were spent arranging a tow and rental car for the
broken down rider and his wife.
After a few more minutes I
realized there wasn't much I could do. I had planned to leave the
group later that day at Delta, Utah, away. They were continuing east
towards Colorado -- I would be turning north. I was just losing time
if I wanted to get both the Utah and Idaho Smallest Grand Tour towns
today before dark. I wished the other riders well and headed off to
Utah on my own.
The town of Delta, UT, is
basically closed on Sundays. I managed to top off my tank by using
the pay at the pump feature at the Chevron station. I continued east
to the far side of town where I turned north on US6. After miles of
desert I turned northwest on UT36 and over to UT73. A few miles down
73 I made a left on Ophir Canyon Road and started uphill towards the
old mining town of Ophir. On the west edge of Ophir there was a spot
wide enough to park the LT on the side of the road and get a picture
of the welcome sign.
I made my way back to 36 north,
headed through Tooele, and up to I80 eastbound, then north on I15 at
Salt Lake City. I knew I had to make up some time on the slab if I
wanted to get the required photo of Idaho town of Warm River before
the sun went down. With the late start and the breakdown my goal of
both towns today was going to be tough to make.
Around Blackfoot I filled the LT's
tank and grabbed a quick sandwich for dinner at a Subway sandwich
shop. Afterwards it was back to northbound I15, occasionally pacing a
rabbit from a half-mile back. At Idaho Falls I took US20 north‚
the shadows were getting long by this time.
By the time I was near the town of
St. Anthony the sun was setting. I knew I still had some miles of
rural two-lane before getting to Warm River. Riding rural roads
safely at night requires good lighting and concentration to properly
judge road conditions and to watch for wild life. While I have a
decent set of driving lights on the LT and I could adjust my speed
down, I still didn't want to deal with trying to get a photograph
parked on a highway, at night, in a town I'd never been to before. I
figured I should get Warm River first thing in the morning. I took
the St. Anthony exit.
I checked into an average but
decent Best Western. After bringing in my over-night bag and covering
the bike I walked out to the main street though town. Downtown looked
to be mostly closed on Sunday. So I walked into a near-by gas station
and mini-mart. I figured I grab a couple bottles of beer to take back
to the room, watch some TV and get to bed early.
I took a couple cold ones out of
the beer case and set them on the counter. The girl behind the
register apologized and informed me that there was a city ordinance
in St. Anthony that prohibited alcohol sales an Sunday. She then
added cheerfully that it only applied to this town, not the rest of
the county. I thanked her and put the two twelve ounce bottles back.
I suppose she was trying to say that I could ride back down the
highway to Rexburg for beer. I left the store and walked back to the
Best Western. My plan for beer, TV, and sleep, was down to two out of
three -- and that would be just fine.
The next morning I woke up early
and ready to go. I pulled out of the motel lot just at dawn. While
the air temperature was down in the 40's the sky was clear and winds
very calm. With my Widder vest and heated grips it was a perfect
morning to ride. I figured on getting the Warm River picture right
away and then finding breakfast on my way back to the interstate.
A few miles north on US20 I turned
onto ID47 at the town of Ashton. I followed 47 for a bit and I
crossed the Warm River. I saw a sign the pointed down to the Warm
River campground. That was it -- nothing else; so much for the City
of Warm River, Idaho. I followed the highway up a few more miles
because it was such a damn nice ride. But finally I decided I better
turn around, get a picture and, unfortunately, go home.
I returned the way I came, taking
two pictures. The first of the green and white Warm River sign posted
at the bridge over the Warm River, and the second of the Warm River
campground directional sign.
On the way back to Ashton I turn
off onto a local road and took a couple more pictures, one of the
road itself heading off passed the farms and farm houses. The other
is looking out towards the west side of the Grand Tetons near
Yellowstone.
Back at the junction of US20 and
47 I stopped at a restaurant that looked to be frequented by the
local ranchers and farmers. I had a big hot breakfast and coffee. By
the time I got back on the bike I was seriously considering
continuing east to Montana to get another town for this tour. But my
judgment, for better or worse, told me I better head home.
I hate the slab; it's boring,
monotonous, and full of trucks. I figured two things: since I wasn't
going to continue on with the Smallest Grand Tour, I would at least
allow myself the pleasure of minimal interstate time. Also, I would
challenge myself to get home today. I had not done an official IBA
ride this year, nor was I planning to. But I figured if I stayed off
the interstate as much as practical, it would be close to a 1,000
mile route home. The ride wouldn't be properly document, but so what?
That's not always the point anyway.
I followed US20 back onto I15
southbound for a while, but at Idaho Falls, 20 turns sharply west
towards Arco and onto Mountain Home. That's the way I headed. The
farming country of eastern Idaho had given way to aired desert by the
time I stopped for gas and a quick bottle of juice in the town of
Arco. Arco isn't very big but it's the largest of all the little
towns out this way. After leaving Arco the lava fields around
Craters of
the Moon National Monument came and went.
I stayed on 20 until Mountain
Home, where after another stop for gas, I started south on ID51.
Highway 51 makes a beeline for northern Nevada across the Snake Rive
Plain. I enter the Duck Valley Indian reservation and a few miles
farther I cross into Nevada and the highway becomes NV225. In Nevada
the highway begins to curve and twist along the bank of the north
fork of the Humboldt River and the Wild Horse reservoir. If you ever
come this way though, keep a watchful eye, as this section is open
cattle range.
Roughly half way between the
little ghost town of Mountain City and Elko the scenery changes to
the typical Nevada/great basin sagebrush views. I roll up the pace a
bit and head for a rendezvous with I80 at Elko.
I put a few more miles on the
odometer west from Elko before getting gas in Carlin. I put on even
more miles before stopping in Battle Mountain and sitting down for a
burger and coffee at the Owl Club.
The sun set somewhere west of
Winnemucca where I made a quick "touch-n-go" off-ramp to on-ramp stop
to put away my sunglasses and put on my electrics. The Sierras were
coming up and the temperature would be dropping. A final gas stop and
short break was made in Verdi at the Boomtown casino gas station. I
crested Donner Pass again, but this time westbound. It was all
downhill from there. I pulled into my driveway with 976 miles in just
under 18 hours for the day.
Well I managed six towns for this
year's Grand Tour. Don't know if I'll win anything in the drawing,
but as always, it's a blast just getting out and riding. I had better
check the AMA site to see what will be offered for 2005.