Idaho - 2009

I spend way too much time looking at little squiggly lines on maps.  As I search for roads that I have not ridden, I am being forced out of California to more distant lands.  One of my searches and research forays on the Internet led me to the Saw Tooth Mountains in Idaho.  A couple of friends from Las Vegas and Phoenix wanted to meet and ride for a few days.  So we planned to meet in Ely, Nevada and head up into Idaho together for some winding roads.

Day 1

I left after work Wednesday night to cover at least 250 miles towards Ely so I would not be riding 700 miles the first day.  The bike's seat has been renamed LA TOTURA ... getting a Russell Day Long custom made seat in November, so until then I suffer. Commute traffic was bad as expected, and splitting lanes was a little slow with the touring bags on the bike.  I did make decent time and had the goal of hitting Doppelgangers, a brewery in Carson City for dinner. 

A little obstacle I encountered on my way up HWY 88 ... right about dusk. Thought it would be a good idea to push it off the road so no one else had to dodge it.

Sunset behind me.

Doppelgangers.  A pretty good porter and a very good steak.  Place was deserted on a Wednesday night at 9 PM.  By the looks of it, it is a pretty popular place on the weekends.  

Other than the rock in the road, it was a pretty uneventful ride and I made pretty good time, but even with the PIAA driving lights, it is DARK on DARK ROAD.

A non-eventful 235 mile 1/2 day.

Day 2

Got up early to head east on "The Loneliest Road in America" to meet up in Ely.  Crisp cool air, I love this time of year.

Sunrise.

Thought about a detour to the Fallon Naval Air Station (the home of TOP GUN once it moved from Miramar in San Diego) for a photo op, but was not sure how I was going to do on time to get to Ely by 2 to meet with Vic and Bill.  As you will see, I needn't have worried about this at all. This display is along HWY 50 and warranted a little stop.

You can just make out an F-18 taking off to "go play". Three flights of four took off over my head and blasted off into the distance.

I got to see a LOT of this on Day 2. 

The infamous Hwy 50 Shoe Tree. Supposedly the story of how it start is:

The story behind the tree goes as such: A young couple camped there on their wedding night and got into a tiff. The woman said she was gonna walk away and the man said, "If you do, you'll have to walk barefoot," and threw her shoes in the tree. Then, the man got in the car and drove to Middle Gate to have a drink at the bar. The bartender talked him into going back to his wife, which he did. A year later, they brought their first child's shoes to the tree and tossed them into the branches. Since then, people have been adding and removing shoes from the tree so that when you drive over a hill on that very desolate road, all that you can see is this cottonwood tree with shoes hanging from every branch.

"Ripened fruit" that have dropped (once the shoe laces rotted through no doubt.

As I took a break here, drank some water I could here my F-18 buddies up in the sky dog fighting, after burners kicking in and out and obviously having a blast.   With the hills around, it was impossible to tell where they were, I looked hard, but never saw them, but listened for a while.  Of course, listening to testosterone filled dog fighting does something to ya when you are on a 130+ hp sport touring bike ... it was time to ride.

So off I went down one of the straightest roads I have ever seen.  This road has gorgeous vistas, but is boring as hell to drive.  It is at least better than HWY80, but really, once is enough for me. As I settled down into a rhythm I slowly increased my speed and decided to see what she would do with the saddlebags and trunk on.  Laid over on the tank bag and dialed her up.  Can't say how I know, but I am pretty confident of "exactly" how fast I was going.

I wasn't the only one silly enough to be out here.  I saw several bikes heading west. I stopped in Austin NV for gas, the 5.1 gallon tank took 4.9 gallons.  Picked up my "I SURVIVED HWY 50, THE LONELIEST ROAD IN AMERICA" t-shirt.  Met a guy on an Electra Glide heading west. He had come from Texas and was heading to California to visit some friends.  Exchange some conversation ( he was very interested in the BMW but I am not sure why, he was very happy with his Harley)  Gave him some ideas for roads to hit on his trip and parted ways.  East of Austin HWY 50 has some fun winding area.  Had to work a little traffic, but timing was good for all passes so not much hurt in my stride.

The plan was to meet in Ely, NV at 2.  Bill and Vic were riding up from Las Vegas and should have been there early.  I found that my "pace" put me in Ely 1.5 hours earlier than I had planned. I took the chance to get a few shots of the AA gun in front of the VFW (you just don't see many of these, usually a tank or APC is in front of the VFWs I have passed).

I also stopped off at the railroad museum.  Wished my daughter was with me, she has the strange habit of taking pictures of rusty things (my mom was a pretty good photographer and took similar pictures, it must be genetic). I was told this delivery truck runs and they move it in and out of the building regularly.  Looked plausible, was in very good shape, but looked like a driver.

Bill and Vic showed up an hour late. They had decided to detour to Lil' Alien Inn just to go by there.  Then they found out there were no gas stations heading north close enough for them to get gas, so they had to back track and come back up HWY 93. No big deal or rush, I was a bit concerned .. when someone in a car is late, you figure they are just late. When someone on a bike is late, bad thoughts go through your mind. Once we hooked up, caught up a little and they had a break, we headed up the last leg of the day to Wells. NV.

We stopped for a butt break here mainly because this wrecker was trying to right a trailer that had flipped. The towing pick up had flipped as well and was off to the side. We watched expecting the trailer to crush under the straps, but he had done this before it seems and gradually righted it.  The sound was pretty gruesome ... everything those people owned was rattling around inside. We just hope the people were okay (all the air bags had deployed and there was no visible "evidence" of injury if you get my meaning.)

Wells, NV.  What can you say about a wide spot in the road for a truck stop, a couple of motels and a mini casino with mediocre food?  It was the farthest we could get for a good solid jumping off point for tomorrow. 

458 miles for me today.  Not a bad run, some "interesting" conversation with a "local" in the middle of nowhere on HWY 50 and catching up with some friends.

Day 3

This morning we got up to some pretty terrible coffee, loaded up and headed for Elko for a fuel top off and breakfast. At least the coffee here was good. - with the name The Coffee Mug, it had better be.  We headed north on HWY 225 through the Duck Valley Indian Reservation.  We started off with a lot of straight pavement still, boring, but nice views.  We got further up in the area of Wild Horse Reservoir, the road got a lot more interesting and wound through a canyon along a small river.  We stopped for a few pictures and a break and headed on up to Owyhee for gas.  

As we road up this road I noticed something. In California the

 sign means tight winding road, switch backs, hair pins ... technical roads usually. But in Nevada this sign has an entirely new meaning.  It means "100+ mph sweeper ahead, long and smooth transition to another 100+ mile sweep the other direction."  Also as you get into curvier roads, there are a series of signs warning you on turn speed.  Often a turn marked 45 MPH was being handled by the Harleys at 80+.

At "The Bridge to Nowhere" I had to stop for a few pictures.  Bill and Vic headed on up the road. I took my shots and scooted up the road to get back in the lead.  When we stopped for gas, we pieced this entire story together.

I scooted up and passed Bill and was pulling up on Vic as he entered a series of turns. Vic went into a left hand turn that was sort of down in a gully.  A utility truck was coming the other way.  On the right side of the road, a steer jumped across the turn missing Vic with no problem, but causing the truck to skid to a stop. Vic motors up and out of the gully and about this time I am diving through the corner oblivious to what has happened due to all the tall sage brush blocking any views through the corner. As I entered the turn I saw the steer and the stopped truck so clearly something was amiss. I started to stand the bike up for better control incase he decided to Cowmakazi me .. good thing I prepped. The truck was still stopped and the steer decided now was a GREAT time to dive back across the road ... in front of me.  Heeled all the way over is not conducive to emergency stops.  I stood the bike up and I am now a dyed in the wool ABS convert. I stopped as I looked at the steers shoulder as he ran across the road and his back leg bumped my front tire.  Bill came around behind me at this point as I was just starting to pull away.  The guy in the utility truck gave me a thumbs up and a wave .. I was trying to figure out how much of my underwear I pulled up inside of myself when my sphincter tightened. 

I pulled back in front of Vic. We encountered MANY more cows and steer on the road, not on the side of the road, just standing on the road. Vic asked me later why I was so overly cautious around them and then we related our stories. We agreed after almost thunking a steer, the over caution was understandable.

At the gas station we met a group of bicyclists that were going from Boise to Las Vegas. We heard the story of the guy that had to have their support vehicle go back and help him replace the spokes that he lost while trying to avoid a snake.  These guys were seriously hardcore. 

HWY 225 turns into HWY 51 in Idaho and winds gently for a while.  We headed up HWY 78 through the Birds of Prey National Park which was rather un eventful, not a bird in sight. Up to Nampa and then a quick stop before heading into Boise.  Watched a hunting dog that lives up the hill on the other side of the pond dive in and start stalking ducks.  His owner came driving down in a few minutes and we helped catch the pooch before he got taken by the pound "again".  Time to go.  We planned to meet a friend for dinner in Boise, but we were early enough we planned to fined Sockeye Brewery before going to a hotel. 

"Then Disaster Struck"

As we got into the populated areas, traffic got bad.  We later learned we were on one of the worst roads in the area. We came to a very busy intersection behind a line of cars. Only a few cars got through the light at a time, so we kept inching forward.  I am pretty sure we were within striking distance of getting across on the next light as we inched up more. Then the guy in front of me started pointing in his mirror and back.  Since my mirrors do such an amazing job of showing me my elbows, I turned around to see Bill's bike on its side. The car behind Bill ran up and hit him.  In the picture the driver of the car behind the one that hit Bill is giving him info as a witness. On the positive side, Bill was not hurt and the bike was a rental.  Bill does two or three big trips a year and tries out different bikes each time.  On the negative side, this bike was toasted.

And a photo of the culprit.  This young man spoke no English, it was not his car, he had no insurance and he had a fake ID from Washington. I don't think I need say much more about how we all felt.

After the trooper showed up, a couple of Nampa bike cops came as well. They claim they are the only force using V Stroms.  Had all the parts pulled off their BMWs and put on these and are much happier with them from a performance and repair/maintenance cost.  Plus no one tries to run anymore they say. All of the officers that showed up were outstanding, helpful and courteous (one of the guys took his cleaning stuff our and cleaned off my windshield and headlight cover for me. We talked bikes, gear (the pros and cons of their baseball compression shorts vs. my bicycle shorts with gel pads), mechanics gloves vs. motorcycle gloves  ... it was like a little party on the side of the road while Bill had to deal with the mess. They all had their own "off the record" comments about what should be done with the guy that hit Bill as well.  Tow truck took Bill and the bike to the local Harley shop. We got cut off from following by the same light that caused he ordeal and ended up pulling over, calling and trying to plug a non-existent street into the GPS.  We finally got there and the next order of business was a hotel.  We went to the local courtyard and I called our friend to update him.  I told him where we were, he said I think I am close watching the football game at Rudy's .... which we passed on the way to the hotel and was only a block away.  We walked down and had a great evening and drowned Bill's sorrows. 

336 miles, one totaled Harley, but no one got hurt (or unfortunately deported).

Day 4

Bill flew home in the morning and Vic and I headed on up into the mountains.  It was a bit of a rough start in the morning - calculating how much beer you drank the night before is never good when you start getting into the gallons range. But we took a hit for making Bill feel better. Yeah, that's our story and we are sticking to it. 

We rode up Hwy 21and stopped in Idaho City for breakfast. There was a group of bikers there beginning a 6 day run through Idaho and Montana. As we talked to these guys, it dawned on me that of most of the multi bike groups I had seen on this trip were not single style, but a mixture much like my on the GT and Bill and Vic on their Harleys.  This group had 2 cruisers and an FJR in it.  As we rode up the rode, it was clear these cruiser riders were real riders too.  It was refreshing to see the stereo typical barriers being broken on such a grand scale.

The colors were beginning to change.  We stopped for gas in Stanley and it was Bike Central Station with at least 50 or more bikes coming and going.  One that pulled in was a Harley carrying a patched and pinned "board member" of the Idaho Motorcycle Safety Foundation.  A great idea I think to myself.  The rider was very friendly and VERY talkative.  He finally said his good byes and rumbled away. As he left I asked Vic, "What was wrong with that picture?"  He shrugged.  "While I know there is no helmet law in Idaho, but here is this guy in giant boots, leather pants - not chaps, a leather jacket and his colors vest over it, giant cold weather gloves, and a leather aviator skullcap with goggles?. And touting he is a board member of the Safety Foundation and not wearing a helmet?"  It's the ATGATT coming out in me I am sure. 

Snake River just above Twin Falls, Idaho.

Just south of Twin Falls it started to rain. Hard. WE pulled into a as station and rain suited up, but by the time we were done, the rain had stopped.  We rode to Jackpot at the border of Idaho and Nevada and pulled the gear back off.

 We arrived back in Wells at the same motel. The clerk wanted to know where number 3 was.  We had to repeat the story for him ... actually nice to see how genuinely concerned he was.

388 miles lots of good roads and lots of great scenery.

Day 5

Before we finished pickling Bill, he made us promise to come to his house in Vegas in a couple days so he could put us up and feed us. Vic had to be back in Phoenix by Monday night for a flight to New York for a meeting, I was thinking about heading over to the back side of the Sierra's to loop a few passes on the way home.  We agreed and Vic and I planned the long burn down to Vegas from Wells. This was the weekend of the Silver State Challenge which closes down HWY 318.  I had known this and worried about excessive traffic in the are of Ely, but never saw a thing that even resembled a contender. On the way to Vegas we saw several Corvette's making the return loop back up HWY 93.

This little road side stop at the junction of HWY 93 and ALT 93 that heads up to Wendover claimed to have gas, nope.  Claimed to have food .. questionable.  Had no claims of strange birds that had BMW fetishes ... but did.  We stopped just to get off the bikes for a few minutes and I spent most of my time chasing a peacock away from my bike. 

Passing through Caliente.

The plan was t head south on HWY 317.  It was shaping up to be a very interesting canyon road until the sign saying ROAD CLOSED ahead.   Bummed us out a bit but we back tracked back up to 93.

A long day of mostly straight roads ... at excessive speeds just to get them done. Not the plan, but not all things work out like we want.  We got to Bill's and spent a nice evening with Bill and his wife, an awesome steak dinner and nice comfortable beds - probably the best and most relaxing evening of the trip.

398 miles.

Day 6

I had planned 2 days of blasting around the mountains solo on my way home.  I left Bill's house early and headed up towards Death Valley.  The plan was to get through DV before it got too hot. Vic headed south to Phoenix to home.

Not a lot of pictures got taken in Death Valley. The goal was to get through it before it got hot.  I hit Stove Pipe Wells a little before 10 AM for gas.  A German couple was there getting gas in their rental car.  They started the conversation by looking at me in all my gear (mostly mesh actually) and asked "Aren't you hot?".  We talked for a bit, he has an RT at home. He asked how I like the bike "I caress her tank on the straight-aways at 100+" He grinned wide and his wife stormed away with "You are all ze same".  Hope his ride through the valley was not as hot in the car as outside. 

The burn up HWY 395 was the traditional burn up HWY 395. There was a lot of construction as they are widening it to 2 lanes each direction with a LARGE median in between almost the entire length it appears.  I guess they have had enough of the head on fatalities this road has been notorious for. . I stopped for gas a few times and in Bishop came across a large gaggle of Brits on Harleys.  Shorts, Tennis shoes half helmets and having a huge time.  There were also two very obviously Japanese business men on the new Honda Choppers with dealer plates. They didn't really talk to anyone but got on their bikes and rode off.  Was talking to one of the Brits when one guy came around in SHORT shorts .. WAY short, his t-shirt rolled up and stuffed to look like D cups - or bigger, and a pink half helmet with long blond pig tails attached.  Apparently something went hay wire for him and he was not able to get a bike to ride or be allowed or something - they were all laughing pretty hard at this.  So they all agreed he could come anyway and could take turns riding "bitch" on each of their bikes .. under one condition .... so as they are all hooting (and my camera batteries were dead and I could not get to the tank bag and swap them before these guys left) I asked .. "So, um who does he/she sleep with".  I  think I made that guys day even worse based on the noise that generated. Hope their trip was as much fun the entire time as I saw in that gas station.  I debated loading batteries in the camera and chasing them down for a quick riding shot of the poor soul, but decided that may just egg his mates on worse and decided just to head on up north instead.

Fast forward to HWY 108, Sonora pass.  I got to the beginning and was anticipating glory when a line of cars stopped me for construction work. I stopped to assess and planned to pull up the front when the Flag Girl waved me up.  She put me right in front and immediately a guy in a truck a few vehicles back started bitch.  She was pretty ... smooth. "Shut up, he is going to pass your slow ass anyway, so let him have a little fun for gods sake". He shut up and got back in his truck.  Wait was about 25 minutes, but we were about 10 minutes from go.  She told me that the construction was only about 3 miles and then it was wide open and the last car that left would be 25 minutes ahead ... so I would probably catch it right about the summit some place and she laughed. 

We finally moved out and after the pilot car pulled off about 5 miles down the road, I got to go.  Went over Sonora pass with no traffic save a couple of cars form camp grounds here and there.  I got to around Miwuk and could not imagine ever getting this road this clear ever again, so I turned around and went almost back to the construction zone, then turned around and back over again. Once I got back down the second time, I launched onto the main freeways in an effort to get home before too late.  Instead of splitting this into 2 days I decided for 1 day and then to relax and run errands the next day before going back to work. While it was a pretty long day (683 miles) they were pretty quick miles for the most part and I was home about 7:30 for dinner with the family.

Was a fun trip with good friends, it got tangled up in the middle and our plans for at least one more day in Idaho was squelched, but we all agreed, we will go back soon and spend a lot more time in Northern Idaho and into Montana. 

Day 6 was 683 miles and total mileage was 2498 miles in about 5 and 1/2 days.  And that was with construction stops and dealing with Bill's accident.