I present to you...
Frostbite in Four States.
I finally got fed up with all my riding buddies bailing on going to Yellowstone with me, so I scheduled some time off work and had at it. Last Thursday.
I got back in late last night. Here's my story:
The faithful steed is loaded up and ready to roll:
I headed off to my buddy's place on Flathead Lake in Montana. I saw him once in the past four years on the return leg from Red Lodge, about four months ago. I only had time to visit for an hour before having to zip back to Seattle.
Mountains are pretty:
We arrive at Flathead Lake with little difficulty, other than pouring rain, standing water and at least 25 MPH headwinds the whole way:
I leap back on my bike only to have the pantleg of my Roadcrafter hook on the footpeg. Over we go, gently and slowly. I pick the bike back up and nothing is broken or hurt, just my pride and false sense of superiority. Those will heal in no time, though. Always a first time for everything.
I meet with my buddy and we apply liberal amounts of pizza and beer:
Daybreak from his living room, the next day:
We get on the road to get as close to Yellowstone as possible before camping for the evening. At a fuel/food stop, disaster strikes! The once-faithful backpack, servant for the past seven years, commits seppuku on my exhaust. Did you know a backpack covering the exhaust will melt everything in the vicinity?
It fused my shoes and first aid kit together in my backpack:
I added some 100 MPH tape and all was better:
Made it!
Come to Yellowstone, stay inside and watch movies:
Here, I turn on my cell phone to get a message my buddy from Denver couldn't meet me as planned. His BMW shredded a fuel line and he was limping it back home to Denver instead of joining me. This was good, since he loves hiking and it would be tough for me to go with my melted shoes. He made it back without a hitch with the help of duct tape.
Fireshot or Firehole or Firesomething falls:
Those walking burgers are awfully close!
They look so warm and inviting from a distance!
I was checking out the long boardwalk around some of the interesting geothermal activity, such as:
I get back to my bike and a "bloody"' crow had undone all the zippers on my tank bag and backpack. The joke was on him - all he found was my chain lube and one pair of dirty underwear.
... he got back at me by pulling said underwear out and leaving it next to my bike. To the fatty in the SUV who spent at least two minutes pointing and laughing, I appreciate a good joke, too, but I hope you get a heart attack from your next quarter pounder. "dog".
Mud pots! They are exactly what would expect, hearing that name.
Old Faithful goes off, right on cue:
Been there, done that:
Chillin' at West Thumb on Yellowstone Lake:
Lewis Falls. I think. Forty feet of fury:
Oooh.... Ahhh....
Haha, the cleaning "dog" has to ride the "poo poo"-mobile:
Camp in the Grand Teton for the last night:
Sunday morning:
Animals!
Mountains!
I arrive in Boise to meet up with another friend I haven't seen in at least a year. We decide where to get some grub and his car promptly gives up the ghost. No warning, ran fine until he parked it, then it wouldn't work again. I get to push his car out of the fire lane he parked in and into a parking spot. What a welcome! I stay with him until his roomie shows up and they take off. I "enjoy" a breakfast at Taco Time and head back off on the road.
I ride the additional 300 miles back into Pullman after that and get in around 9 PM. That's about 14 hours in the saddle, with the time change.
The trip's milage total was just over 1,600. Nice and easy first three days with the 600+ mile monster for the last day.
Highlights of the trip:
* Freezing fog outside of Jackson, Wyoming. Having to scrape your faceshield off every 30 seconds isn't a whole lot of fun.
* Having my gas milage almost double when I'm not fighting a headwind and rain in Montana. I should NOT be getting 35 MPG even if I am doing 95 MPH!
* Those heated gloves were worth their weight in gold. They easily increase the range of ridable temps by about 20*. I could ride in 15* weather all night without a problem.
* Aerostich sells "cold weather" pads for their Roadcrafter suits. I thought it was just an excuse for them to sell you more crap until I tried to put on my suit Sunday morning, after a high teens to low twenties evening. The normally pliable pads were as hard as concrete and didn't warm up from my body heat for hours. Pretty uncomfortable.
All's well that ends well. I bootjacked an indicator from the Katana that happened to be a Honda indicator, so I was back in action Monday evening:

[url=http://www.motoblag.com/blag/]Practicing the dark and forgotten art of using turn signals since '98.[/url]