Sunday 27 December 2009

Idaho and Montana

*We’re taking a step back in time now and continue the story from we left Seattle. People keep on asking about what happened, so here it comes even though it might be boring, as it often is in "developed" countries. *

Greg in Seattle had put us up with a guy called ”Mountain-Bob” in Coeur D’Alene, just across the Idaho border. We got started a bit late, as it sometimes happens, and when Pete left us at the Snoqualmie Pass it was already way passed noon.

The first part of the day when we rode with Pete it was quite hot, above 0 and light rain. It was just enough rain to block your vision, but not yet enough to make you wet. Up towards the Snoqualmie, the first critical pass, it was climbing steadily, but nothing dramatic like East Turkey, Mongolia and some places in Norway for that sake. What made the pass remarkable though, was that it was very narrow and steep mountains just at the road side, stretching all the way up to the moon. Perfect conditions for avalanches. We didn’t get taken by the avalanche anyhow, and Pete left us at the top.

From the top and onwards both altitude and temperature went steadily down again, but the rain stopped. And as always when you got a fixed point to reach in the evening it turns out to be longer than expected, in this case it turned out to be close to 500 kilometers. Normally not too long of a leg, but it’s sure enough when you start late in the morning, it’s weeks since you rode a bike and the temperatures are mostly sub-zero and it’s utter darkness.

We stopped in Spokane for refilling gas and caffeine, and thought we were close to the target. We called Bob and learned it was still about 50 km to go. Exactly what we needed when the clock was way passed 10PM, we were chilled as our cousin Frosty. We also met a couple of cops at the gas station that loved the bikes. One of them was severely depressed, he had used to be highway patrol on a bike and loved to chase cars, but now he was forced into an office. They got some stickers, and we got their phone numbers. “Just call us if you need help” was the message.

Bob was a patient fellow, he had almost written us off when we called, but when we rolled up in front of his house closer to midnight he was wide awake, with his wife and niece all awaiting us. They got out their anti freeze, and cooked us some enormous and tasty steaks to make sure we’d get night mares.

Mountain-Bob was a psychiatrist by profession, and had moved up from Louisiana where the alligators grow so grand. He’s sister had been in the same class as Polk Salad Annie. He was very eager and engaged, and immediately volunteered to be our shrink, promoter and fixer. We probably needed most of the first, but surely a promoter and fixer as well.

Maximus-Mountain-Bob set us up with some people to stay with the next night. He called the local newspaper that did a story, http://www.cdapress.com/articles/2009/11/26/news/news04.txt . Finally we got our breakfast and moved on. Bob escorted us the first part. He was mighty impressed by both speed and light equipment, which became a big discussion topic on the Moto Guzzi forum http://wildguzzi.com/forum/index.php?topic=31536.0

The target for the day was Missoula, Montana, where Bob’s friends Nancy and Todd Cochran were located. It was fair riding, not too cold and the roads where dry though the road sides were snow covered. Typically about 0 centigrade, and sometimes a few below. We got in a bit late, but not too late at the place. What met us in Missoula was a friendly couple, that had just retired. Genuinely interested in the travel and highly educated people. They wanted us to stay for Thanksgiving, but as weather was forecasted to be good a few days we had to push on.

The next day of riding offered cold but beautiful weather. Sunshine and minus a few centigrade’s. We drove in mostly flat lands on the Interstate 90, but surrounded by snowy mountains. Thanksgiving was obviously not such a highlight for the animals as for the people. Continuously we met trucks loaded with dead deer, elks and moose. The poor things had probably been running around looking for turkey for supper when they looked in to a stick spitting lead and then it was night time for them. No thanksgiving this year, or the coming years for that sake.

We had a major stop in the old mining town Butte. A beautiful place shaped by a century of mining, http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butte,_Montana , and today a ghost town compared to what it used to be in the heydays. Just after Butte we passed the last part of the Rockies while it was getting dark. No problems at all, I think everybody should do the Rockies in the winter time on a bike. It’s really not an issue if you’re not having too bad luck with the weather.

The night of Thanksgiving was spent in Bozeman, MT. We had no friend there so we had the big meal at a truck stop near the motel. After an enormous burger and a few beers I ordered a major brownie. The waitress said I’d be sick if I mixed burgers, beer and brownies. It was too much with three b’s in a meal. I had to convince her that I was old enough to order what I wanted, so after some arguing I got it. Disappointed I went to bed without feeling sick at all on Thanksgiving night.

Tormod Amlien
tormod.amlien@gmail.com

* Nu hopper vi lige lidt tilbage i tiden og fortsætter historien fra da vi forlod Seattle. Folk bliver ved at spørge om hvad der skete, så her er den; selv om den nok bliver lidt kedelig, som det ofte er tilfældet i 'udviklede' lande *


Greg i Seattle havde skaffet os husly hos en fyr som blev kaldt 'Mountain-Bob' i Coeur d'Alene, lige over grænsen til Idaho. Som det ofte sker kom vi lidt sent af sted, så da Pete forlod os i Snoqualmie passet var det allerede over middag.


Da vi kørte sammen med Pete først på dagen var det ret varmt; over frysepunktet og der var en let regn, lige nok til at forstyrre udsynet men ikke nok til at blive rigtig våd. Op gik det mod Snoqualmie Pass, det første kritiske højdepunkt. Det var stejlt, men ikke nær så dramatisk som det østlige Tyrkiet, Mongoliet eller for den sags skyld enkelte steder i Norge. Bemærkelsesværdigt ved dette pas var de meget smalle og stejle bjerge op til vejen, som syntes at strække sig helt op til Månen. Perfekt for laviner, som vi dog ikke oplevede nogen af.


Fra toppen, hvor Pete som sagt forlod os, gik det nedad igen, også for temperaturens vedkommende, og regnen holdt op. Og som sædvanligt var aftenens fix-punkt længere væk end beregnet, i dette tilfælde omkring 500 km herfra. Normalt ikke for uoverskueligt et stræk, men det er langt når man man først starter op ad formiddagen, det er uger siden man sidst sad på Nimbussen, temperaturerne er under frysepunktet og det er bælgravende mørkt.


Da vi stoppede i Spokane for at tanke og noget koffein, troede vi at målet var tæt på. Vi ringede til Bob og fik at vide der var 50 km endnu. Lige hvad man har brug for at vide når klokken er over 10 om aftenen, og man er kold til marven. Vi mødte også et par strømere som var vilde med Nimbusserne. En af dem havde været mc-betjent, hvor han elskede at jage biler, men nu var han deprimeret over at være tvunget til at arbejde i et kontor. De fik et par af vores klæbemærker, og vi fik deres telefonnumre. ”Bare ring hvis I får problemer”, var beskeden.


Bob var et tålmodig herre, som næsten havde afskrevet os da vi ringede, men han var lysvågen da vi omsider trillede op foran hans hus, hvor også hans kone og niece ventede os. De fandt frostvæsken frem og stegte os et par enorme bøffer, så vi var sikre på at få mareridt af det senere. Manden var psykiater af profession, og var flyttet herop fra Louisiana, hvor de har så store alligatorer. Hans søster havde gået i samme klasse som Polk Salad Annie (?!?). Han var yderst hjælpsom og entusiastisk, og tilbød omgående at være vores hjernevrider, promotor og fixer. Vi havde nok mest brug for det første, men såmænd også lidt af de andre ting.


Maximus-Mountain-Bob arrangerede at vi kunne bo hos nogle andre næste aften, og ringede til en lokal avis som skrev om os (http://www.cdapress.com/articles/2009/11/26/news/news04.txt). Efter morgenmaden eskorterede han os det første stykke vej, og var meget imponeret over både vores hastighed og lyset på 'busserne, hvilket siden blev et stort diskussionsemne på Moto Guzzi forummet (http://wildguzzi.com/forum/index.php?topic=31536.0)


Dagens mål var Missoula i Montana, hvor Bobs venner Nancy & Todd Cochran holdt til. Det var nem kørsel, ikke for koldt og med tørre veje hvor der lå sne langs siderne. Omkring frysepunktet, af og til lidt under. I Missoula blev vi mødt af et venligt par, der lige havde trukket sig tilbage fra arbejdslivet. Oprigtigt interesserede i rejsen og højt uddannede mennesker. De sagde vi burde blive til Thanksgiving, men vejrudsigten havde forudsagt at de næste dage ville blive gode, så vi måtte klø på og komme videre.


Næste dags kørsel foregik i koldt men smukt vejr; solskin og igen lidt under frysepunktet. Vi kørte mest over fladt terræn på I-90, og så på de snedækkede bjerge omkring os. Thanksgiving var tydeligvis ikke så fed en tid for dyrene som for menneskene, for vi blev ved med at se biler læsset med døde hjorte, rensdyr og elge. Staklerne havde sikkert trampet rundt for at lede efter kalkuner til aftensmad, men havde så kigget op i den onde ende af en jagtriffel i stedet. Ingen Thanksgiving for dem i år eller årene fremover.


Vi gjorde et større holdt i den gamle mineby Butte. Et smukt sted formet af et århundredes minedrift (http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butte,_Montana) men i dag en spøgelsesby sammenlignet med hvad den var engang. Kort efter Butte forlod vi den sidste del af Rocky Mountains, just som det var ved at blive mørkt. Jeg tænker alle burde prøve at køre i Rocky Mountains her om vinteren – det er ikke noget problem hvis man ikke kommer ud for dårligt vejr.


Thanksgiving tilbragte vi i Bozeman. Vi havde ingen venner dér, så vi indtog det store måltid på et truck stop nær motellet. Efter en enorm burger og et par øl bestilte jeg så en 'brownie'. Servitricen sagde jeg blive syg hvis jeg blandede burgere, øl (beer) og brownies; for mange b'er i et måltid. Jeg måtte så overbevise hende at jeg var gammel nok til at bestille hvad jeg ville have, så efter nogen diskussion fik jeg min brownie. Senere gik jeg i seng, dybt skuffet over ikke at være det mindste syg denne Thanksgiving aften.



Mountain-Bob in Idaho, one of the countless Guzzi-riders that's been of great help in the US&A. Maybe I should get a Guzzi one day, nice people those who ride 'em.
Bjerg-Bob fra Idaho, én af de utallige Guzzi kørere som har været til stor hjælp her i USA. Måske jeg burde få mig en Guzzi en dag, med alle de flinke folk er kører på dem.
Exiting Idaho, Bob follows closely in the Jeepney but got problems keeping up in the curves, the Nimbus was just too fast and well handling.
På vej ud af Idaho følger Bob os tæt i sin Jeep, men havde problemer med at følge os i kurverne. Nimbussen var bare for hurtig og lå for godt i svingene.



Our great hosts in Missoula, Nancy and Todd.
Nancy & Todd, vores fine værter i Missoula.

Butte, Montana. Hanna Montana lives in excactly this old mine.
Byen Butte i Montana. Hanna Montana bor i netop denne gamle mine.



Typical Montana, it sure is nice up there.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Still can't believe I met you guys. Well kind of met. I was the cop at the gas station. I was sure you two were a couple of head cases that were going to be road kill up the road so i stayed my distance. Had i known about this journey and about how your living your lives, i would have given you a lights and sirens police escort to Guelph. Absolutely fantastic. Nice to know that there are people that are not afraid to live the dream. Happy New Year and I hope all is well. Jeff from Canada.

6 January 2010 at 16:58  

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