We had been waiting for a break in the weather for our first little spring ride, and were just completing a round of routine machine maintenance at the local shop. The stars and planets aligned - somewhat - and weather was predicted acceptable Friday and Saturday (April 13-14) with conditions deteriorating to wind, rain and snow - 60 percent - on Sunday.
So Marilyn and I met my brother Scott Thursday night at the family's recreational property along the Jefferson River between Silver Star and Twin Bridges - 11.5 acres, 1,300 feet of frontage, small reconstructed 1930s vintage log cabin, tipi, fire pit, outhouse. This beautiful spot is about 40 miles from my home in Butte and about 120 miles from Scott's hometown of Livingston. Marilyn brought my truck with camping gear, food and beverage while Scott and I brought our motorcycles - me aboard my '03 FJR (fifth season) and he aboard his '03 Bandit S trimmed with Oxford soft luggage. It was a cold ride out - 44 degrees when I left Butte but good gear kept me reasonably warm. I've acquired new Alpinestar touring boots and just picked up some used Alpinestar leather pants with light armor in them. I also use a Joe Rocket Ballistic jacket with liner, a silk helmet/neck liner, Arai helmet and warm gloves (can't remember the brand). Scott rode in similar weather west from Livingston along with a northerly crosswind.
The night at the cabin was fine but it was 28 degrees at 7:30 the next morning, so we fired a second pot of coffee. We let it warm up to about 42 degrees before we pulled out at 10:30 a.m. Friday. We rode up the Jefferson Valley to Twin Bridges (350 pop), then up the Beaverhead Valley to Dillon (5,000 pop), then over the pass past Bannack (a ghost town and Montana's first territorial capital) and into the Big Hole Valley. It began to warm up then and we rode through Jackson (100 pop) and had lunch at Fetty's in Wisdom (250 pop). Then continued down along the Big Hole to Wise River (150 pop), Dewey (50) and Divide (25) where we stopped at the new Blue Moon bar and grille, which has been rebuilt since burning to the ground last fall. It is a very nice new establishment.
On into and through Butte (35,000) and back out to the cabin - about 240 miles altogether. Beautiful scenery, decent weather and traffic is absolutely minimal this time of year. A great ride. We saw about one car per ten miles while in the upper Big Hole Valley. In the summer this traffic increases 10-fold (to one car every mile). There is nothing tricky or technical on this route; some long, straight stretches and gentle sweepers. But we had the Tobacco Root and Ruby Mountains to our left with the Highland Mountains and Pioneers on our right when we started; then, as we switched to the adjacent valley, had the Pioneers on our right and the Sapphires on our left with the Pintlars in front of us. All the peaks are snow covered and some creeks still had ice along the shores. The air is crisp and fresh and clean and the whole thing is just downright invigorating. Each of these little burgs along the route has sites and restaurants and taverns worth exploring: real rural Montana character and culture, if that's not an oxymoron (I didn't say "high culture").
That night we sat down to a good meal of venison brats, sauerkraut and bread, a few toddies and we hit the rack.
Saturday we again waited until about 10 a.m. and it warmed to about 44 by the time we headed back to Twin Bridges. We then rode up the Ruby Valley through Sheridan and Alder, then to Virginia City, over the hill into the Madison Valley and Ennis with a good breakfast there. The wind was howling from the south so it was a straight headwind up the Madison Valley until we got close to Quake Lake and were headed east. Quake Lake is still all covered with ice. It was formed in about 1959 when an earthquake loosed the side of a mountain which fell into the valley and dammed the Madison River, killing and burying about 29 campers when it did. The shore of the lake is still lined with the ghostly trunks of long dead trees poking through the ice.
We then ran along the shore of Hebgen Lake which is formed by the Madison River backing up behind Hebgen Dam. This lake, too, is still frozen, but the weather and riding was pleasant, the scenery striking, although development and big starter mansions are proliferating. We then crossed over into the Gallatin Valley just a few miles north of West Yellowstone and rode north along the Gallatin River, past Big Sky (this area is now very heavily developed) and up to Four Corners, just west of Bozeman. Here Scott split off to the east and home to Livingston while we rode west past the Lewis and Clark Caverns to LaHood Park where we enjoyed a beer. Then back to Butte - about 280 miles altogether - where we dropped the bike and took Marilyn's car back to the cabin on the Jefferson River. We didn't want to be out that way with the bike on Sunday since all weather forecasts were predicting 60 percent chance of rain AND snow and figured we could get trapped east of the Continental Divide passes.
Not to worry, though, as Sunday was indeed socked in and chilly but just a few drops of rain and no snow. Saturday's route was a lot like Fridays in that we traipsed along rural two-lanes with almost no traffic, through quaint and picturesque little towns, along our rivers and through our valleys. We once again rode along the Tobacco Roots, the Rubys, the Gravellys, the mighty Madison Range and the Gallatins.
On Sunday I decided to try some fishing when Marilyn headed back into town (we ran out of propane and she needs her heat!). The water level had been coming down and clearing so I figured I had a chance to hook a good Brown or Rainbow trout. I didn't get so much as a nibble. Hmmm.
However, there were some yahoos camped downriver just above a state fishing access site where there is a fire pit and picnic table right next to the river. They were sure into the guns as they shot and shot and shot - maybe 150-200 rounds or more, but they seemed mostly to be shooting out into the river (stupid) as I could see geysers out in the channel from where I sat, then hear the report of the rifles and pistols.
As I was sitting in my chair with a book - having given up on the fish - I heard a "thwack," then a gunshot. I thought, hey, that sounded like a round landed nearby, but that is unlikely; they can't be that stupid. Then I heard another "whap" and another gunshot. Holy Keerist!, I thought and took cover behind my truck. I then thought, what am I gonna do, stay back here until they perforate my truck? Hell no! So I decided to drive to their camp to get them to stop. As I came around the front of the truck I heard another slug clip a tree nearby, then the report. By this time I'm really getting pissed at these fools. As always, I have a loaded .357 in a holster and a scabbard behind the seat, as insurance, but its always dangerous to confront folks who have loaded weapons.
I flew up the road and pulled up at their camp, shaking with fury. They are setting plastic bottles on two big rocks, then plinking them from their chairs, which just happened to form a straight line up the river shore to where I'm fishing. As calmly as I could (not very calmly, I'm afraid) I told them in no uncertain terms to "PLEASE don't be shooting up river! I'm fishing there and you put three rounds near me (which I emphasized by thrusting three digits into the air). Now PLEASE, no more shooting upriver! I APPRECIATE IT!" I felt the need to be polite, despite my anger. (I don't like what happens to me when I approach the limits of control over my temper and this didn't need escalation, though it did need to stop.)
It appeared to be an older guy, maybe 55-60 and a younger male and female. The old guy wouldn't even look at me, the girl either. The younger guy just kind of smiled and said, "Okay." I got back in the truck and drove back to my fishing spot. I never heard another shot after that.
I got to thinking, if I were them and I had done something so stupid, I think I would have gone to where I was fishing to apologize. Then I got to thinking, no, if I'd done something that stupid and it had rightfully resulted in rage, I'd probably get in my outfit and slink the hell out of there, not wishing any further confrontation.
Anyway, it pissed me off that these "gun enthusiasts" were so freaking stupid as to shoot in a direction in which they were unsure of what lay behind their targets, and this is along a fairly highly recreated river. That's gun safety 101! It's people like these that give gun ownership a bad rap. This incident had me angry all day and pretty much ruined my day.
On my way out I stopped where they had been camped and, as expected, they had left the ground littered with empty brass casings and shot-up plastic bottles, all of which I picked up. I'd love to say these folks were from out of state but I fear they were locals.
Anyway, a great weekend, minus the gunshots incident. As always, the 30,500-mile (now, 31,000) FJR ran great over our opening two-day trip of 550 miles. Seems the mechanics got the job done well and right. Got 48 mpg with Marilyn along on day one, and 45 on day two (more headwind). Both days, with 300 lbs. more machine and people than my brother on his Bandit, we got about 5 mpg better than his carbed 1200. He is jealous, and has a smaller tank, to boot. The "'03 heat" was welcome, even as the gear worked well in keeping me snug and warm. Marilyn stayed warm as well, but complained of a sore butt - needs to get in shape, I told her.
We hope to be able to get in a few more day-trips, maybe another overnighter or three-day weekend in the next couple of months. We are planning to run the famous Beartooth Highway in early June (news reports indicate the road will be cleared of snow and open by Memorial Day) along with the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway (Sunlight Basin) and some extraordinary routes up, over and through the Bighorn Mountains further east in Wyoming. Anyone care to tag along?
And anyone coming through Southwest Montana (we're about 120 miles from Yellowstone Park), let us know. We could arrange for you to stay at Eagle's Rest, our little piece of paradise along the Jefferson, on one of the three forks of the Missouri Headwaters. It's a beautiful place of peace and pleasure (though mosquitos can run you off in June or even early July, depending upon weather and precipitation).
Good riding.
So Marilyn and I met my brother Scott Thursday night at the family's recreational property along the Jefferson River between Silver Star and Twin Bridges - 11.5 acres, 1,300 feet of frontage, small reconstructed 1930s vintage log cabin, tipi, fire pit, outhouse. This beautiful spot is about 40 miles from my home in Butte and about 120 miles from Scott's hometown of Livingston. Marilyn brought my truck with camping gear, food and beverage while Scott and I brought our motorcycles - me aboard my '03 FJR (fifth season) and he aboard his '03 Bandit S trimmed with Oxford soft luggage. It was a cold ride out - 44 degrees when I left Butte but good gear kept me reasonably warm. I've acquired new Alpinestar touring boots and just picked up some used Alpinestar leather pants with light armor in them. I also use a Joe Rocket Ballistic jacket with liner, a silk helmet/neck liner, Arai helmet and warm gloves (can't remember the brand). Scott rode in similar weather west from Livingston along with a northerly crosswind.
The night at the cabin was fine but it was 28 degrees at 7:30 the next morning, so we fired a second pot of coffee. We let it warm up to about 42 degrees before we pulled out at 10:30 a.m. Friday. We rode up the Jefferson Valley to Twin Bridges (350 pop), then up the Beaverhead Valley to Dillon (5,000 pop), then over the pass past Bannack (a ghost town and Montana's first territorial capital) and into the Big Hole Valley. It began to warm up then and we rode through Jackson (100 pop) and had lunch at Fetty's in Wisdom (250 pop). Then continued down along the Big Hole to Wise River (150 pop), Dewey (50) and Divide (25) where we stopped at the new Blue Moon bar and grille, which has been rebuilt since burning to the ground last fall. It is a very nice new establishment.
On into and through Butte (35,000) and back out to the cabin - about 240 miles altogether. Beautiful scenery, decent weather and traffic is absolutely minimal this time of year. A great ride. We saw about one car per ten miles while in the upper Big Hole Valley. In the summer this traffic increases 10-fold (to one car every mile). There is nothing tricky or technical on this route; some long, straight stretches and gentle sweepers. But we had the Tobacco Root and Ruby Mountains to our left with the Highland Mountains and Pioneers on our right when we started; then, as we switched to the adjacent valley, had the Pioneers on our right and the Sapphires on our left with the Pintlars in front of us. All the peaks are snow covered and some creeks still had ice along the shores. The air is crisp and fresh and clean and the whole thing is just downright invigorating. Each of these little burgs along the route has sites and restaurants and taverns worth exploring: real rural Montana character and culture, if that's not an oxymoron (I didn't say "high culture").
That night we sat down to a good meal of venison brats, sauerkraut and bread, a few toddies and we hit the rack.
Saturday we again waited until about 10 a.m. and it warmed to about 44 by the time we headed back to Twin Bridges. We then rode up the Ruby Valley through Sheridan and Alder, then to Virginia City, over the hill into the Madison Valley and Ennis with a good breakfast there. The wind was howling from the south so it was a straight headwind up the Madison Valley until we got close to Quake Lake and were headed east. Quake Lake is still all covered with ice. It was formed in about 1959 when an earthquake loosed the side of a mountain which fell into the valley and dammed the Madison River, killing and burying about 29 campers when it did. The shore of the lake is still lined with the ghostly trunks of long dead trees poking through the ice.
We then ran along the shore of Hebgen Lake which is formed by the Madison River backing up behind Hebgen Dam. This lake, too, is still frozen, but the weather and riding was pleasant, the scenery striking, although development and big starter mansions are proliferating. We then crossed over into the Gallatin Valley just a few miles north of West Yellowstone and rode north along the Gallatin River, past Big Sky (this area is now very heavily developed) and up to Four Corners, just west of Bozeman. Here Scott split off to the east and home to Livingston while we rode west past the Lewis and Clark Caverns to LaHood Park where we enjoyed a beer. Then back to Butte - about 280 miles altogether - where we dropped the bike and took Marilyn's car back to the cabin on the Jefferson River. We didn't want to be out that way with the bike on Sunday since all weather forecasts were predicting 60 percent chance of rain AND snow and figured we could get trapped east of the Continental Divide passes.
Not to worry, though, as Sunday was indeed socked in and chilly but just a few drops of rain and no snow. Saturday's route was a lot like Fridays in that we traipsed along rural two-lanes with almost no traffic, through quaint and picturesque little towns, along our rivers and through our valleys. We once again rode along the Tobacco Roots, the Rubys, the Gravellys, the mighty Madison Range and the Gallatins.
On Sunday I decided to try some fishing when Marilyn headed back into town (we ran out of propane and she needs her heat!). The water level had been coming down and clearing so I figured I had a chance to hook a good Brown or Rainbow trout. I didn't get so much as a nibble. Hmmm.
However, there were some yahoos camped downriver just above a state fishing access site where there is a fire pit and picnic table right next to the river. They were sure into the guns as they shot and shot and shot - maybe 150-200 rounds or more, but they seemed mostly to be shooting out into the river (stupid) as I could see geysers out in the channel from where I sat, then hear the report of the rifles and pistols.
As I was sitting in my chair with a book - having given up on the fish - I heard a "thwack," then a gunshot. I thought, hey, that sounded like a round landed nearby, but that is unlikely; they can't be that stupid. Then I heard another "whap" and another gunshot. Holy Keerist!, I thought and took cover behind my truck. I then thought, what am I gonna do, stay back here until they perforate my truck? Hell no! So I decided to drive to their camp to get them to stop. As I came around the front of the truck I heard another slug clip a tree nearby, then the report. By this time I'm really getting pissed at these fools. As always, I have a loaded .357 in a holster and a scabbard behind the seat, as insurance, but its always dangerous to confront folks who have loaded weapons.
I flew up the road and pulled up at their camp, shaking with fury. They are setting plastic bottles on two big rocks, then plinking them from their chairs, which just happened to form a straight line up the river shore to where I'm fishing. As calmly as I could (not very calmly, I'm afraid) I told them in no uncertain terms to "PLEASE don't be shooting up river! I'm fishing there and you put three rounds near me (which I emphasized by thrusting three digits into the air). Now PLEASE, no more shooting upriver! I APPRECIATE IT!" I felt the need to be polite, despite my anger. (I don't like what happens to me when I approach the limits of control over my temper and this didn't need escalation, though it did need to stop.)
It appeared to be an older guy, maybe 55-60 and a younger male and female. The old guy wouldn't even look at me, the girl either. The younger guy just kind of smiled and said, "Okay." I got back in the truck and drove back to my fishing spot. I never heard another shot after that.
I got to thinking, if I were them and I had done something so stupid, I think I would have gone to where I was fishing to apologize. Then I got to thinking, no, if I'd done something that stupid and it had rightfully resulted in rage, I'd probably get in my outfit and slink the hell out of there, not wishing any further confrontation.
Anyway, it pissed me off that these "gun enthusiasts" were so freaking stupid as to shoot in a direction in which they were unsure of what lay behind their targets, and this is along a fairly highly recreated river. That's gun safety 101! It's people like these that give gun ownership a bad rap. This incident had me angry all day and pretty much ruined my day.
On my way out I stopped where they had been camped and, as expected, they had left the ground littered with empty brass casings and shot-up plastic bottles, all of which I picked up. I'd love to say these folks were from out of state but I fear they were locals.
Anyway, a great weekend, minus the gunshots incident. As always, the 30,500-mile (now, 31,000) FJR ran great over our opening two-day trip of 550 miles. Seems the mechanics got the job done well and right. Got 48 mpg with Marilyn along on day one, and 45 on day two (more headwind). Both days, with 300 lbs. more machine and people than my brother on his Bandit, we got about 5 mpg better than his carbed 1200. He is jealous, and has a smaller tank, to boot. The "'03 heat" was welcome, even as the gear worked well in keeping me snug and warm. Marilyn stayed warm as well, but complained of a sore butt - needs to get in shape, I told her.
We hope to be able to get in a few more day-trips, maybe another overnighter or three-day weekend in the next couple of months. We are planning to run the famous Beartooth Highway in early June (news reports indicate the road will be cleared of snow and open by Memorial Day) along with the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway (Sunlight Basin) and some extraordinary routes up, over and through the Bighorn Mountains further east in Wyoming. Anyone care to tag along?
And anyone coming through Southwest Montana (we're about 120 miles from Yellowstone Park), let us know. We could arrange for you to stay at Eagle's Rest, our little piece of paradise along the Jefferson, on one of the three forks of the Missouri Headwaters. It's a beautiful place of peace and pleasure (though mosquitos can run you off in June or even early July, depending upon weather and precipitation).
Good riding.
