Day 7: Billings, MT to Old Faithful Inn, Yellowstone NP (Wyoming)
This was a close one.
Note: I wrote this last night, so where I say ‘today’ understand that when I wrote it it was yesterday (thursday).
This was a close one. When the road you’re taking goes over something called Beartooth Pass, that might be a warning, maybe, that you should uh… chose a different route? But I was like, nah, google is trying to send me the boring way, the fast way, the efficient way. What was supposed to be 5 hours turned into 10.
It started off OK. There was intermittent rain all night and still off and on when I woke up, which was fine. I had decided just before bed that I wasn’t going to camp the rest of the trip, and so I could send home my camping stuff. So I ran to the UPS store right after I got up, dropped off all that, came back to the hotel, had breakfast, got my things together and on the bike, and right then it started raining again. I went back to the lobby to see if I should wait it out, but the forecast was the same for the next hour, so I decided to put on my rain gear and tough it out.
This was, as it turned out, a not so hot idea. I got on the highway and immediately got The Fear. Big Trucks whizzing by, slick spots from the fresh rain, just like, this really intense fear that something bad was going to happen. So I pulled off at the next exit and pulled into the first parking lot I saw, a Pizza Hut that wasn’t even open yet at 10am. Took some deep breaths, looked at the route to see if I could avoid the interstate, but really the first 20 miles or so there was only one way, without going an hour out of my way. So I took a few more deep breaths, and just did it. I’m not gonna say it was fine, but I got on at a moment there was less traffic, between waves, and managed to hang in that dead spot for most of the time I was back on.
Pulled on to 212 and headed towards Red Lodge. Google wanted me to go towards Cody, which would have gotten me here probably a lot quicker and safer, but I just knew that Beartooth Pass would be gorgeous. Stopped in Red Lodge at about noon for lunch, got a little burrito, filled up on gas, and went on my way. There was a little construction and I thought, oh, how nice, glad I had that experience from the other day. Then there was a series of switchbacks and I noticed it getting colder, so I started putting on layers when I would stop.
Got up to Rock Creek Vista, stopped and snapped a few photos; if you’re ever in this part of the world, it’s worth the trek to go up there, even if it turns all harrowing on the way down. Of course if you’re smart and turn around at the vista and go back to Red Lodge and have dinner and sleep in a nice bed, you probably won’t be harrowed at all. Barely even [tk word that is less severe than harrowed].
Anyway, yr. hmbl. narrator was not that smart, and decided to push on. Google was saying about three hours still, which would have gotten me here well before dark. The pass goes up and up, all the way to 10,947 feet. I stopped at turn out to put on my last layer, and there were two harley guys there, electra glides, and they were also surprised by the height and extremity. It was snowing sideways, although the thermometer on my bike said 34ºF, which meant probably no icy patches. There were definitely slick spots (of unknown cause) though, which meant I was going a small fraction of the speed limit the whole way down.
I was just about frozen when I saw a store in the distance, so I stopped and went in to warm up. Nice little shop, fronting a resort, both called “Top of the World”. They had free coffee and that plus just getting my core back up to temperature was enough to keep me going. From there down to Cooke City wasn’t too bad, just after the Top the snow turned to light rain and I was able to mostly go the speed limit.
Cooke City I stopped to top up my tank again and there was a crew of four guys on GS’s (the biggest, most expensive BMW ADV bike; the big brother to mine). I went over and asked where they were headed, to warn them about the pass if they were going that way, and they said they’d already been there, and it was ‘pretty dicy’. Fucking-A it was.
From there I was feeling pretty good; the worst was over, right? Surely. So I get out of there, pass Silver Gate and re-enter Wyoming. This is a state that does not fuck around. I think the last time I got caught in bad weather in a pass it was here, too. That was I-80, headed into Salt Lake. Anyway, back to this one.
I got into the park, paid my entry fee (I got the America The Beautiful pass because I also want to go see the Tetons, although I’m not 100% sure that’s possible, I’ll need to check the weather and all), and started down the road. It was raining again, but I wasn’t super worried, because I was at lower elevations and the temp was 40. Wet pavement is fine. Less traction, but an amount. Judicious use of what it gives you and you’re fine.
I stopped a couple times to take photos in the first half hour. The rain cleared off for a bit, and so it was easy to hop off, take a few frames, and get back on the bike. All of my photos from in the park, so far, were taken in that short period.
The wind was making me cold again, though. I pulled off at a store that must be mobbed on a normal day, just a giant parking lot; it was closed today, and the view was shut off by the weather. I got off the bike and walked over to a little covered area with seating and sat down, and of course it started raining even harder. I sat there out of the wind long enough to warm up and then got moving again. I put the rain cover on the tank/camera bag, for good measure if nothing else.
All this time my left hip had started hurting; lifting it was becoming a problem. Of course, about this time I hit a buffalo induced traffic jam, which took a while to get through. Stop and go on a motorcycle is always a pain in the ass; stop and go when I couldn’t lift one of my legs off the ground properly was really, really difficult. I made it through mostly by will and also not getting mad at myself for killing the bike mumble times.
But eventually I got through that, and the road started to rise. Oh great, another pass. Snow started sticking to my face shield, and with that the anti-fog PinLock coating stopped working on the inside. This happened before, while I was on the taller pass, and I think it’s probably just outside the operating parameters for the coating. At first I tried just opening my face shield, because I figured I only had an hour left to go, I could maybe deal… no, no, too much snow in the face, that’s not going to work. Then I figured out if I had it open a crack that was enough cold air to keep the inside clear. So all I had to doo was gently wipe the outside every 30 seconds (so it didn’t close and fog instantly) and I could see… kinda.
The road was getting slicker; at some point, a bit after the traffic jam but before the last round of snow, I realized this wasn’t a leg road trip any more, this was self-rescue. I was shivering uncontrollably, I was wet in a lot of places, and if I couldn’t go on I’d have to use my satellite emergency beacon to summon help. I considered the possibility of parking the bike and hitching, there were some cars passing, but it seemed unsure and possibly increasing my exposure… seemed bad. I’d shipped home my sleeping bag and tent first thing this morning, so I didn’t have a bail option. If I could just… keep… going, there was a warm bed waiting for me at the hotel.
So, that’s what I did. And somehow, my luck held; there were a couple dicy moments, big slick spots that may or may not have been ice, but I kept the bike upright and moving forward, and eventually I got here, got my wet clothes off, took a hot bath, and went down and sat by the fire in the lobby. This is a fancy place. They have bell service and a bar that stocks my favorite whiskey. I missed dinner, unfortunately, but I think I’m just going to crash.