Cody to Livingston

Last night in Cody we had dinner at Adrianos in Cody (owned by a friend of Dan Eddelman's named Jay...who was also a rodeo'er).  Before dinner ended we managed to get Jay to come to our table.  We explained who we were and that Dan had called on our behalf for reservations.  Jay told stories about rodeo'ing with Dan and helping him get started rebuilding Monster Lake Ranch.  Said it was a mess when Dan started on it.  He also said that Dan was a land speculator and that's how he accumulated his large holdings, including Monster Lake Ranch.  It all made sense.

Over dinner KC and I discussed our route for today.  The items on my list were Beartooth Pass, Chief Joseph Highway, Paradise Valley and Livingston, MT by day's end.  KC was in agreement, but added that he really wanted to stay at The Murray Hotel in Livingston.  I cautioned him not to expect The Ritz...The Murray is an old, old hotel that still operates a 110 year old "staff-only" elevator...but he persisted and I agreed.  To be honest, I probably wouldn't have stayed there, particularly when I learned that they wanted $187 a night for a room with three single beds and no other furniture. 

By 8:45AM we were fed, packed, gassed and headed out of Cody on HWY 120.  The weather was  cool and dry in town, but the western sky over Yellowstone National Park, which was exactly where we were heading, was low and brooding.  A rain event seemed likely.  After a short ride out of Cody we reached the turn off for Chief Joseph Scenic Byway and almost immediately began climbing towards the darkening skyline.   KC rode his GS up an incline and parked beside a Chief Joseph sign so that I could take his picture.  Somehow, the picture disappeared...sorry KC, I saw you do it if that counts for anything.

As we climbed towards the summit at 8,500' the temps dipped to around 50 degrees...not exactly cold, but something of an omen of what was to come. 

The summit of Chief Joseph came quickly and the views were better than I remembered from my last trip here.  With the storm approaching from the southwest and the sunny skies to the east, the contrasts were awesome. 

After 15 minutes or so, we'd both had our fill of what may be one of the very best views in all of Motorcycledom...and besides, it was clear that we had incoming weather and there was no point in delaying anything.  So, with the road to ourselves, we headed down the mountain and on to destination number two...Beartooth Pass...a drive that Charles Kuralt said was America's most scenic drive.  Not "one of the best", no equivocation...THE best. Where we rank it is not so important, but be clear about this...Beartooth Pass is on ANYONE's top 10 motorcycle rides in the US.

The ascent to Beartooth Pass took us up Hwy 212 which eventually drops (and I do mean "drops") off the north side of the mountains and into Red Lodge, MT.  Last night KC and I toyed with the idea of riding to Red Lodge, but as it turned out there was no point in having that discussion.  The summit of Beartooth is over 11,000' and as we climbed past 9,000 we could tell that we'd be on IFR (instrument flight rules).   It was plain to see, even to the casual observer, that the pass was completely socked in with heavy clouds...probably dropping rain and snow to boot.

As we passed 9,500' the bottom of the clouds was just ahead and by 10,000' we were riding in cold white soup.  The temperature, in the low 50's at the start of Chief Joseph, was now down to 36 degrees.  Our visibility was extremely limited, bad enough to eliminate the view in every direction.   Oncoming vehicles would emerge from the clouds with no warning.  It was an excellent place to STAY OFF THE GODDAMN CENTER LINE.  There was nothing to see and it had become unacceptably dangerous.

After a brief discussion over the intercom, we agreed that it was time to turn around.  We'd been within 500' (vertical) of the top and that's close enough to qualify for a sticker, which is all I care about anyway (of course I'm joking...the emoticon goes here.)  Made a quick U-turn and began back down the mountain towards Yellowstone National Park.  Dang, we didn't get to see much of Beartooth Pass, but there was weather rolling in and we needed to make tracks.

Note: As I look back at this day on Beartooth Pass, it defines what "ride a motorcycle through the Rockies during late September" means to me.  The weather was cold and wet, but the experience was absolutely perfect.  It is why I came all the way out here.

From the turn off for Beartooth we headed west on Hwy 212 towards Cooke City, MT where we stopped for a bowl of chili and a burger.  We pulled in along side of the building and noticed a guy grilling burgers on a barbecue grill.  I asked if we could park next to him.

He asked, "You eatin' here?"

I said "Yes" and he replied, "Well, then you can park there".

The small, simple restaurant was filled with locals and a few travelers who were hardy enough to get out in this weather.  People were dressed for winter and sought the same refuge that KC and I did.  What our waitress lacked in charm, she made up for with efficiency.  Lunch was served quickly and it was hot.  It's all I ask for.

As we loaded up after lunch the cold, steady rain we'd seen coming in Cody started in earnest...no surprise there,   With snow surely falling in the highest elevations, you could sense winter approaching rapidly.   Looking back at the day five years ago while fly fishing with Jon that I "discovered" motorcycle touring... I dreamed about a day like this, in this very place.  I was checking shit off my bucket list in rapid fashion.

Both of us had layered up so even in a cold rain at 60 MPH we were warm and dry.  In a couple miles we entered Yellowstone National Park, flashing our Senior Passes which we'd paid $10 for a lifetime of National Park entries...such a deal.

"Look out everybody...we got some Seniors comin' through."

For the next two hours we rode along the northern edge of Yellowstone National Park in the rain, at times looking like it would let up, but it never did.  Traffic was light by Yellowstone standards, but it still managed to come to a complete halt in several spots.  We did see some wildlife- Buffalo, Antelope, Bighorn  Sheep and Elk.  But no Bears and no Moose and certainly no Wolves.

At one of the stops for Buffalo crossing the road I noticed that the animals were very skittish about crossing in front of me.  They'd slowly approach the space in front of me, then with their hooves clattering and slipping on the asphalt, they'd dart to the other side of the road.  A ranger approached me and asked me to turn my headlights down (they were on HIGH)...he said they were freaking the buffalo out.  Sorry, the lights were only intended to freak out other drivers.   I've got no beef with Bison.

At Gardiner, MT we took the North Entrance out of the park.  The road through town was under construction and in the rain it had deteriorated into a sloppy, muddy, potholed mess.  At the edge of town, we pulled into a restroom.   As we've all done before,  KC's GS got away from him and his partially deployed side stand.  Over the intercom I heard him say, "Awwwww shiiiiiit" and the old girl, in spite of KC's best efforts, laid down gently on her side.  We immediately righted the bike and KC tested the starter and it fired right up.

Zero damage. Or so we thought.

As I prepared to mount, through the intercom I heard,  "I've got no throttle".

The bike was idling fine, but turning the throttle (by-wire) did nothing.  It was 4:00PM Mountain Time, so it was too late for him to call the guys at Hourglass Cycles, Buford, GA.  The rain was picking up, KC's bike couldn't be ridden and we were standing out in the wide open spaces.

We're in a pickle Dick.

Just then a park ranger approached us and asked "Do you guys need a campsite?".

I expected KC to attack him, but he was clearly focused on his mechanical issue.

I said, "No, we need a BMW mechanic.  Got One?"

Obviously, he did not.  So he changed the subject to Avoiding Wildlife on The Roads.  KC graciously thanked him and we returned our attention to his GS.  After a couple of tries at turning the bike on and off (hey...BMW's are computers, right?) the throttle response suddenly returned and with great relief we mounted up and pointed the wet and muddy GS's towards Livingston.  In hindsight, I suspect that one of us may have dislodged the throttle-by-wire connection when trying to right the bike and that could have caused the throttle operation.  Who knows.  

The road from Gardiner to Livingston runs along side the Yellowstone River and through  the aptly named Paradise Valley which is situated between the Absoroka (pron:  "Ab-zorkees") Mountains to the East and the Gallatin Range to the West.  I have fished the river and spring creeks in Paradise Valley a number of times and always love coming back.  It is, at times, the most beautiful place on earth.

With the bikes now pointed straight at Livingston and the clouds and rain lifting, it seemed even more like a paradise.  There was sunlight visible in patches on the mountains that run parallel along the wild and free Yellowstone River. 

The joy of having averted a BMW mechanical ordeal was intensified by the breaking blue skies ahead of us.  With a 60 mile ride in front of us and very light traffic, we took advantage of the improving weather and a great motorcycle road ahead and dialed the GS's up to 70MPH.   Some times the mountains were covered in heavy, wet clouds; others times the low sun sun lit up the hillsides and the creases in the dark clouds.  As the weather system eventually rolled away, the late afternoon sun warmed us up and dried the bikes off.  Check this one off the bucket list...I'm in Paradise.

We made several stops to shoot the scenery and as we rode up the valley, we noticed a fresh coating of snow on the high peaks of the Absarokas...could have been part of the weather system we'd been riding in all afternoon.

Looking south down Paradise Valley, towards Yellowstone National Park, you can clearly see the weather system that we'd been in since Cooke City, MT.  Glad to be leaving it behind....if only for a few hours.  Look closely and you can see the lone fly fisherman near the two islands in the Yellowstone.