To Seattle

Waking up in Jackson, Wyoming, after a day at Yellowstone National Park, we head into Idaho. The mountain road followed the infamous Snake River, and we were able to see groups of white-water rafters, paddling down through the some of the rapids. Eventually, the road veers away from the river, and follows a wide valley.

 

We arrive in Idaho Falls, at I-15, where our group is going to split up. Paul, Mike, and Tom are going to head west to California. Tom is heading to Palm Springs, while Paul and Mike plan to leave their bikes with friends near Ukiah (100 miles north of San Francisco) and fly home to Texas for a few weeks. Meanwhile, Deb and I are heading to Seattle. I will meet up with Paul and Mike in Ukiah, when they return from Texas, and they will resume their role as tour guides.

With Deb on the back of my bike, we head north into Idaho. The interstate traces a path along the scenic hills. There are several places where we can see train tracks winding through the hills. As scenic as our ride is, I am sure that the view is incredible from a train.

There are few exits from the highway, and one gas stop carries only 84 octane gas. Motorcycles recommend at least 87 octane, so we head up the highway, hoping there is better gas somewhere in our not-too-distant future. I’m on reserve when we finally find an exit with decent fuel.

We spend the night in Butte, Montana. There are wildfires about 30 miles away, and you can see and smell the smoke in the air. All creatures were born with an instinct to flee from fire, and there was certainly a part of me that was uneasy.

We head west on I-90, towards Seattle, towards the fires. The interstate was down to one lane, and there were signs telling us not to stop. A helicopter was hovering just off the side of the road, lowering a water bucket into a pond at the side of the road. A short way down the road, fire was only 100 yards away from us. It was really exciting, but it was not the place to stop to get a picture. We passed the fire and we were in fresh air.

Rock Creek Lodge, Montana, is the home of the annual Testicle Festival. Bull Testicles. Rocky Mountain Oysters. There actually is a festival for this? We’re (luckily) a month away from the celebration, but we have a fun time looking through the gift shop and getting pictures of our mascot, Waldo, the plastic turtle.

Several hours later, as the highway winds through the mountains, we stop in the scenic town of Wallace, Idaho. This is a mining town, that was once famous for the bordello’s. Prostitution was a major attraction to the town until 15 years earlier, when government raids brought a quick end to business. We took Waldo on a free tour of the Bordello Museum, where visitors can see the rooms just as they were left after the raids. We got a great laugh at the kitchen timers next to the beds. The mid-1800’s architecture is really beautiful in this mountain setting. It is certainly interesting to see the town turn the seedy history into a tourist destination.

Just before entering into Washington State, we stop for dinner in the lake region of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. We head through Spokane, then change from interstate onto US 2, to the town of Wilbur. Deb introduces me to his brother’s family, and we spend the night in a real house! I haven’t been in someone’s house for weeks, so this is a real treat. His family is great and we have fun retelling our adventures of Sturgis, Deb’s bike breaking down, Yellowstone, the Testicle Festival, and the Bordello Museum.

The next morning, we continue on US 2, not far from Grand Coulee Dam, to Coulee City, then south to Soap Lake, and the town of Ephrata. Soap Lake is famous for the mineral lake and creamy black mud, thought to have healing powers. Not too far later, we are back in I-90. We arrive in Seattle later that afternoon.

Next: The Pacific Northwest