Sir?
After our enjoyable dinner, I had little trouble falling asleep. Remember, 24 hours previously I had flown from Miami to San Francisco, deadheaded back to DFW, slept in my camper, non-reved up to Jackson, and ridden 150 miles through Yellowstone NP. 10oz of Medium Well Buffalo and a beer didn't hurt either. So imagine my chagrin when at 0400 a truck rattling over the gravel camp road in front of my tent woke me up. And again at 0600, this time accompanied with a voice: "Sir, hummmruph, packing, wubbah, campground, bladdah, bear."
Bear?
Say again your last, over?
"Sir, we think you ought to start packing and leave the campground, we have a bear in the vicinity." Oh. Now c'mon, what's to worry? I have no food in my tent (the dehydrated stuff, one Cliff Bar and my shaving kit are in the "bear-proof" locker) and there are lot's of more interesting campsites around. But I poke my head out and talk to my neighbor, who is debating the same issues. This time when the truck comes by we get a clearer picture from the passenger. Seems he was sharing the campsite with his traveling buddy (on their way to the BMW rally in Gillette WY) when at 4 he awoke to his friend's screams as a Grizzley Bear broke through his tent and took his wrist in his mouth to shake him loose. Yikes! and said bear was still down in the creek less than 50 yards from our site. Expeditious relocation is what we called it when we regathered in town a few minutes later for coffee at the Elk Lodge. No, not men in funny hats, ELK like four legged kind. The proprietress was also the town medic/emt and had shipped the poor victim off to Casper for surgery on his mauled arms and wrist. "Looked pretty bad" was her assessment. "Guess they're done with the rally". My opinion differed, and I bet her a doughnut the uninjured rider would continue on. Powder coated and delicious, thank you. I know my riders.
Now it was the newly formed trio of Kristin, Dave and Randy's turn to head up the road to Beartooth Pass and breakfast in Red Lodge. Can't say enough about the road and the ride and the riders. MT212 is an awesome motorcycling road - clean and smooth, with fabulous views and plenty of pull-outs from which to gaze. Like the bugs, all the motorcyclists in this area take advantage of good weather to get out, and there was a constant stream of traffic coming down the mountain as we went up, and lots of folks with whom to chat at the summit - including my two acquaintances from OK on their Harleys. Breakfast at the Red Lodge Cafe was wonderful, the short stack being more than I could finish, though Kristin and Dave had no trouble devouring their eggs and sausage. We all coffee'd up and then I headed in a more northerly direction toward Glacier, while they proceeded to Gillette with instructions to find the Texas contingent for hospitality. Just before we left the cafe the OK riders appeared again, so a proper "stay safe and enjoy it" was spread around.
I had a long way to go, and it's a good thing being alone doesn't bother me, 'cause for most of the way it was the road, the prairie grass, and me. You can get a little jittery at first, but when the bike doesn't just quit and no critters jump out to wreck you, after a while you notice that you're feeling pretty good and can look around and appreciate what it takes to live up here one barb-wire fence from Canada. Out of Red Lodge I took 78 thru Roscoe and Abserkotee - it's a sweet 2 laner - to Columbus on I-40 to fill up. There another rider suggested 191N to Hobson and 87 into Great Falls, figguring I'd stop there (check a map, it's a ways).
Bear?
Say again your last, over?
"Sir, we think you ought to start packing and leave the campground, we have a bear in the vicinity." Oh. Now c'mon, what's to worry? I have no food in my tent (the dehydrated stuff, one Cliff Bar and my shaving kit are in the "bear-proof" locker) and there are lot's of more interesting campsites around. But I poke my head out and talk to my neighbor, who is debating the same issues. This time when the truck comes by we get a clearer picture from the passenger. Seems he was sharing the campsite with his traveling buddy (on their way to the BMW rally in Gillette WY) when at 4 he awoke to his friend's screams as a Grizzley Bear broke through his tent and took his wrist in his mouth to shake him loose. Yikes! and said bear was still down in the creek less than 50 yards from our site. Expeditious relocation is what we called it when we regathered in town a few minutes later for coffee at the Elk Lodge. No, not men in funny hats, ELK like four legged kind. The proprietress was also the town medic/emt and had shipped the poor victim off to Casper for surgery on his mauled arms and wrist. "Looked pretty bad" was her assessment. "Guess they're done with the rally". My opinion differed, and I bet her a doughnut the uninjured rider would continue on. Powder coated and delicious, thank you. I know my riders.
Now it was the newly formed trio of Kristin, Dave and Randy's turn to head up the road to Beartooth Pass and breakfast in Red Lodge. Can't say enough about the road and the ride and the riders. MT212 is an awesome motorcycling road - clean and smooth, with fabulous views and plenty of pull-outs from which to gaze. Like the bugs, all the motorcyclists in this area take advantage of good weather to get out, and there was a constant stream of traffic coming down the mountain as we went up, and lots of folks with whom to chat at the summit - including my two acquaintances from OK on their Harleys. Breakfast at the Red Lodge Cafe was wonderful, the short stack being more than I could finish, though Kristin and Dave had no trouble devouring their eggs and sausage. We all coffee'd up and then I headed in a more northerly direction toward Glacier, while they proceeded to Gillette with instructions to find the Texas contingent for hospitality. Just before we left the cafe the OK riders appeared again, so a proper "stay safe and enjoy it" was spread around.
I had a long way to go, and it's a good thing being alone doesn't bother me, 'cause for most of the way it was the road, the prairie grass, and me. You can get a little jittery at first, but when the bike doesn't just quit and no critters jump out to wreck you, after a while you notice that you're feeling pretty good and can look around and appreciate what it takes to live up here one barb-wire fence from Canada. Out of Red Lodge I took 78 thru Roscoe and Abserkotee - it's a sweet 2 laner - to Columbus on I-40 to fill up. There another rider suggested 191N to Hobson and 87 into Great Falls, figguring I'd stop there (check a map, it's a ways).
Got through (Not so) Great Falls around dinner time; finally got cell-phone coverage to let folks at home know that IF they heard about a bear attack it wasn't me and dined with the King - Burger King. Afterwards I pressed on out 89 up to Glacier Park. Again and again long stretches of empty plains, no traffic and a true feeling of being alone. Also several large bodies of water. At Browning I decided to head to Kiowa and Two Medicine CG. Browning is a very Indian town, in the Blackfoot Reservation, and the Casino is the big game. Art galleries and Indian craft stores are just the minor leagues. Rt49 south from Kiowa to the camp ground is a twisty motorcycling treat, but it's late in the day for true enjoyment. 25$ (!) entry fee into Glacier and another 7 miles to the 20$ campsite at 2 Medicine, but it's a beautiful lakeside area. Nearly full, but one spot remained - between the trash cans and the toilets. 
Bill, a Goldwing rider out of Michigan, waved me in to share his site if necessary, but I found my little shangrila and set up there. Took an evening stroll to stretch my legs and check out the rigs and people. Lots of smokey campfires to hold the bugs at bay. Fish rising in the lake, and fishermen laying out line. Many canoes/kayaks, several small motorboats. 
A good (long) day's run of 480 miles.
Bill, a Goldwing rider out of Michigan, waved me in to share his site if necessary, but I found my little shangrila and set up there. Took an evening stroll to stretch my legs and check out the rigs and people. Lots of smokey campfires to hold the bugs at bay. Fish rising in the lake, and fishermen laying out line. Many canoes/kayaks, several small motorboats. 
A good (long) day's run of 480 miles.
posted by Randy Masters at 3:10 PM
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