Long, but good (with pictures, even)

Cody Rodeo -

Sunday night I had dinner at the Hotel Irma, built in 1902 by Buffalo Bill Cody (oh yeah, he founded the town and named it after himself as well). I ordered the Buffalo Ribeye. Not bad, but not as good as a steak. A little too lean, if that's possible. But it didn't taste like chicken. After dinner I had a cigar and watched the sunset while sitting outside my motel room (they had lovely wooden benches in front of each room).

After sunset, I walked over to the Cody Rodeo Show (we were told that Cody is the rodeo capitol of the world). I've never seen a real rodeo, but it looked pretty good to me. No one was seriously injured, or at least I didn't see any blood and everyone walked off after their event. I thought the speed horse riding around the big barrels was fun, as was the bull riding. The roping calves looked a bit cruel and unnecessary to me, but I wouldn't protest against it. They did have all the under-twelves come out of the stands and chase a couple of calves around to get a ribbon off them for a prize. That was cute and funny.

In the end, I probably won't be needing to see another rodeo, but it was interesting to finally see one. Oh, and the rodeo clown was miked and did banter with the announcer all night, told lots of bad jokes. The one I remember of course is, "Why do Harley riders wave with only 2 fingers and Honda riders wave with an open hand? Because if the Harley riders opened their hand all the way they'd drop their wrenches." Ha, ha, ha ...

Enough on that.

Monday's Ride -

I got up early Monday morning, loaded the gear onto the bike and checked out of the motel. The temperature had dropped and though sunny, it was only about 69 degrees. When I went to start the bike, she didn't catch the first or second time. On the third try she turned over weakly, ran for a moment, then sputtered out. I spat a couple of curses out and grabbed the cell phone to call the bike shop. Then I remembered that Joe the mechanic had said that the bikes are set to run lean especially when they start-up cold and with the recently added ethanol to fuel it was making the bikes hesitate and sometimes sputter out. Revving the engine usually helps. So I sat there a minute weighing my options. I figured, I'd come this far, let's see how she does today and if I get stuck somewhere then I'll just ship the bitch home and we'll call it done.

I cranked her over, revved the engine a little and pulled out of the parking lot. I drove her down the road to get gas, then started her up again. I rolled out of town after stopping at the tobacco store for a few more cigars (I figured if I was going to get stuck, I'd have something to comfort me while waiting for a tow). The bike started up a little better each time and I was quickly on my way toward Yellowstone NP.

There's a little town, Wapiti, just before the east entrance to the park and in that town there this place, the Yellowstone Valley Inn. They have a restaurant, gift shop and motel. It looked like a good place to get some breakfast (and I had decided I would get a hearty breakfast this morning in case something did go wrong, I'd at least not go hungry).

At first I thought this place was going to be like every other restaurant I've been in the past few states. You walk in and no one greets you. You ask a waitress if you can sit and they say, "She'll be right with you," referring, I have learned by now, to the absent hostess. This morning an old guy with wet eyes asked what I needed. When I told him I'd like to eat he said he could help me. He walked me to a table and said, "She'll be out in a minute." I figured he meant the waitress. He left me with a menu. I decided on steak and eggs because I love steak and eggs. She came out, all 87 years of her. I ordered and even got a decent cup of tea. This place might turn out to be OK, I thought. And in fact it was one of the better meals I've had since leaving NYC (at least at a restaurant). I have to say I am spoiled living in NYC ... I've not even tried eating Italian or Chinese food while on this trip. Two days ago, in some diner or other, the waitress said the lunch special was spaghetti with meat sauce. I ordered a grilled cheese and fries.

After breakfast, the temperature was still pretty cool, so I rummaged through my saddle bags and put on a thermal shirt under my leather jacket. I had my warmer gloves on as well. The bike started OK and I rolled out to the park. The ride leading to the park entrance was very pretty, all lakes and fields and mountains in the background.

After the park entrance there was 7 miles of road construction. Everyday it seems I have to go through at least one stretch of road that isn't all there. This was annoying because the line of cars was long and people kept stopping. There's nothing worse on a rutted road covered with gravel then fluctuating your speed on a bike. It's best to just drive along at a steady 20 mph or so. At least it wasn't 15 miles long and ending in loose dirt like the other day, but it also wasn't the last bit of road construction I would see today.

Once inside the park, I was struck by the number of dead trees. I recall hearing about a fire a while back and there are still miles of trees that are charred and bare. I have to say that overall I was not blown away by Yellowstone. It was nice, and I'm glad I went through, but there are just too many people around to enjoy much of it. Everywhere I went there were crowds.

Here's a shot of me as I crossed the Continental Divide (actually this is the second time I crossed it, the first time I crossed there were too many people for me to get close enough for a shot).

I got to Old Faithful and had to hang around for 75 minutes or so to see it blow and take a few pictures (like this one). Then it was time to walk back to the bike and roll on out.

I swear, I must have gassed up three times just riding to and through the park. I didn't want to run low while in the park, so wherever there was a gas station, I filled up. It was overkill, but I'm a little overzealous after my breakdown adventures.

The sky was overcast all though the park and it was a chilly day. I could have done with a pair of chaps, but I left those home (the one thing I didn't bring with me). For tomorrow I'll wear some thermals under my jeans, that should greatly improve my comfort level.

In the end it just didn't thrill me, I was too concerned that the bike would breakdown again somewhere, I was chilled, the sky was crap and again, too many people. I've not seen traffic like that since leaving NYC (OK I'm exaggerating, but only a little).

I'm hoping Glacier NP isn't going to be more of the same. It was almost as bad as that damn Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center.

After leaving the park through the north gate, I was in Montana (even though, oddly enough, there was no sign saying Welcome to Montana - I have to say that's the first time I've seen that on this or any other trip). Actually the north gate is an arch made of stone with mountains behind it, I couldn't help but be reminded of the Paramount Pictures logo. Still, it looked great.

There were fires in the mountains, I could see the smoke for miles, but I wasn't in any danger. I stopped for gas in Livingston, took a gander at the map and decided to try for Helena by nightfall. The sky was looking clearer to the west and of course being Montana, it was looking bigger as well.

Bozeman was beautiful, just as Terry and Joe (from the Wyoming bike shop) had promised (see photo at right). The sun was shining and the temperature warmed up a bit, even though it was near the end of the day.

As I made Helena by 8 pm I was able to check into a motel room and grab this last image of the day. Hopefully tomorrow will be just as beautiful.

Last thing - I'm still saying a little prayer each time I crank the engine over. So far it's working. Oh and I'll leave you with this from the small oddities column, the people in the room next to mine at the Big Bear Motel in Cody, WY had a minivan with a license plate from Florida, but they spoke French to each other and their young daughter.