Ryker Goes to Tillamook: Cold and Wet - Mostly

 

I don't remember rain being a prominent feature of my ride through Yellowstone, but the above photo says it hadn't been completely dry.  I do remember a couple of things.  First, I'd encountered a bear with cub somewhere near Tower Junction.  Traffic had been backed up pretty severely with gawkers, but I'd been able to pick my way through the line and get on my way without too much delay.  Ryker's not as narrow as a two-wheeler, but much more svelte than your average SUV or cross-over!

Second, after turning north for the park exit at Mammoth Hot Springs, the road became extremely entertaining, as it winds serpentine-like above the Gardner River.  I'd never been on that road before (last two photos), having accessed Mammoth previously from the south only.  It was almost as convoluted as some of our routes in the Black Hills of South Dakota!

I crossed the park boundary at the edge of the town of Gardiner, MT - the original entrance to Yellowstone.  And yes, the town name has an "I" in it, but the river does not.  The train made it here in 1903, but no farther.  Seeing all the famous thermal features to the south required significantly more adventurous travel!  Gardiner is still a frontier kind of place and will merit a longer, accompanied visit in the future.  I'll have a talk with my wife Kim about that.

There's a rest area on 89, about halfway to Livingston.  Besides what most people do at such places, I also walked over to that picnic shelter you see in the distance.  It was still raining off and on (more on than off), but had finally become significantly warmer.  I took cover while I removed my outer jackets so that I could shed an inner thermal layer.  That done, I opened the vents in my primary jacket, then replaced it and my waterproof overcoat.  It's a process.  But with luck, it would keep me comfortable enough for the rest of the day.  If you're in a hurry, my good friend Dave used to say, take the car.

I joined I-90 at Livingston, then rode west through Bozeman and Butte.  It was not fun.  The rain had gotten harder, and there was occasionally standing water on the freeway.  If you read my account of my last trip home from Canada, you'll remember that Ryker hydroplanes quite easily - with sometimes terrifying results.

I decided to follow a semi-truck for a while, who was going nice and slow.  It didn't help that my face shield kept fogging up, and I had to repeatedly wipe the inside with my gloved finger.

I was relieved to finally exit onto Highway 1 for Anaconda.  It would be another new-to-me town, and the gateway for the first of two off-pavement passes I'd hoped to ride before reaching Oregon.  After skirting around Georgetown Lake, I turned at the intersection of Highway 38, aka Skalkaho Pass Road.  I parked there for a moment, gazing up toward the summit,  still 30+ miles distant.  The top of the ridge was completely obscured in a darkish cloud.  Rain?  Fog?  Snow?  None of the possibilities would be pleasant.  A glance at my onboard thermometer revealed a recent dip back down to 40 degrees! 

Remembering what they say about discretion and valor, I swung back onto Highway 1 and headed north instead.  Maybe I'd do Skalkaho on the way home.

I rejoined I-90 at Drummond and turned northwest toward Missoula.  Conditions were much better now - less rain and less traffic.  It was still sprinkling, but I could see farther ahead and didn't have to crouch behind a truck.  By the time I stopped for gas in Missoula it was 60 degrees!

Which brings us finally to the photo above.  The Little River Motel in St. Regis, MT, is an hour past Missoula - and I had a reservation.  A classic "Mom and Pop" establishment, it was exactly the kind of place many moto-travelers prefer - myself included!

I arrived at 6:30 and snapped this shot from inside the office, while "Mom" stepped away to get a towel for wiping down my ride.  Now wasn't that thoughtful of her?  You just don't get that level of service from a national chain.

My room was the center one in a block of three.  But there were other similar groupings nestled in the trees on the expansive property.  It obviously had been a cozy stopover for travelers for many decades.

My plan was to unload Ryker, then hop on again for the short trip back to a burger place I'd spotted nearer the freeway exit.  That's the office in the distance.  The other rooms are between here and there but out-of-view to the left.

Winki's Diner was another classic, though it probably hadn't been around as long as the motel.  I lucked out with a parking spot right next to an outdoor table!

My bacon cheeseburger was juicy and delicious, and the fries were even more memorable.  They were about mid-way between traditional French fries and crispy kettle chips - with the best features of both!  And after 10 hours of rain and temperatures in the 30s and 40s, it felt extremely good to be enjoying a meal outside.

Back at the room, I opened the glass on the screen door - yes, a screen door! - so the fresh mountain air could waft in while I unpacked the things I would need for the night.  I also called Kim and texted my father and my buddy Dan. 

I discovered that the ceiling light in the bathroom was out - sort of.  It was extremely dim, so it would serve as a good nightlight.  Taking a shower was more difficult.  But I think I found and addressed all the dirtiest parts - on my body, that is.  The enclosure was already spotless.

I turned in at 10:30, grateful to finally relax my sore back and shoulders.  It had only been 500 miles, but the cold and wet always keeps me somewhat tense.  I did not at all regret having skipped Skalkaho Pass.