Date: Thurssday, September 6, 2018
Location: Jackson, WY
Departure Time: 8:35 am
Starting Mileage: 29,424
Lee booked us a beautiful place for last night, The Elk Refuge Inn. She’s done a fantastic job working the maps, keeping us on our route and finding us a place to stay each night. She has also made sure there’s plenty of water and kept me hydrated.
It was 12:30 am when I crawled into bed this morning. Just past 7:00 am I came too. Lee was already up. My head was pretty foggy, I was sore. Calluses have formed on my left hand and I have pressure cuts on two fingers where they exit my fingerless gloves.
Unlike a conventional motorcycle that will run strait as an arrow with virtually no input, a sidecar rig with a trailer connected to the sidecar pulls in the direction of the sidecar. As a result, constant force applied to the bars is required to keep the rig on the road. There is no let up. In addition, the slightest changes in throttle input or body position changes the rigs trajectory.
Bubba is covered with the remains of numerous bugs. Yellow gack with occasional wings stuck in them cover the forward facing surfaces.
It was cold this morning, I’d guess high 40’s. We both layered up.
Heading north towards Yellowstone, the land was flat and nondescript. Eventually the road angled down to a valley floor and trees began to appear. The Tetons were there in the distance.
Within the hour we arrived at Jackson Lake. While there Lee asked about David’s ashes. We are leaving some ashes in each state. I took some to the water’s edge and tossed them onto the lake’s surface. Watching them dissipate tears welled up in my eyes. Such a senseless loss. He could have done this ride with us, got on my nerves and we could have had a huge fight, but no, never to be.
JACSON LAKE VISITOR CENTER PARKING LOT
With the lake at our backs we continued north.
Lee had told me that we were going to cross the Continental Divide and we needed a picture.
Yellowstone Lake came into view shortly thereafter.
After Yellowstone Lake we turned right at Fishing Bridge towards Cody.
Rounding a left hand bend we were forced to stop. There were bison ahead walled in by traffic.
DON’T SAY BISON BURGER!
They were on a land bridge bisecting a marsh. Being afraid of the cars, they simply milled around. The side of the land bridge to our right was built up with large rocks. One animal attempted to descend and fell to its knees. An enormous bull was in the mix. The thing was frightenly massive. It could have easily tossed us and the rig into the marsh like a toy.
Lee was very concerned. “We’re sitting ducks!, were sitting ducks!”, she repeated several times. Then she recited her obituary, “woman gored by bison dies doing what she loved.” I wasn’t quite as fatalistic and questioned why the idiots in the lead vehicles didn’t just engage their brains and step on their gas pedals! Minutes ticked by.
I stood up on the bike. The road beyond was filled with people from the oncoming vehicles taking pictures. A woman walked up beside me with a camera in hand. “Don’t people know these animals can kill”, Lee exclaimed. It was a circus!
Something hit my hand. A bird? It happened a second time, it was starting to rain. Looking over my left shoulder a huge black cloud filled the sky. Thirty minutes passed.
“Just yell at that woman to move”, Lee exclaimed. After the second or third proclamation I fired up Bubba and pulled within a couple of feet of her bumper. Cautiously I dismounted, walked between our vehicles and knocked on the passenger window. The woman in the passenger seat opened the door. “Will you please just drive forward, the animals will move, otherwise we’ll be here forever.” Thankfully the driver complied.
Back on the bike I turned the key and hit the started button. As she crept forward I stayed on her bumper to prevent any animals from getting in front of the bike.
One bison made the move, descending the bank to our left, others followed. A couple of slow studies remained on the right shoulder, but joined their clan in short order.
Traffic once again flowed and it took so little to make it happen!
We passed by more of Yellowstone Lake then started climbing. Damage from the fires was extensive. Thankfully the rain cloud never dumped on us.
Lee suggested that we stop at a pull out so I could eat something. The first pull out had no view, so we pressed on, the bike went on reserve. Another pull out appeared, the bike lost power, I pulled in the clutch and rolled into it with an empty tank. The view was great. After some almonds and a pack of peanut butter crackers I filled Bubba’s tank.
It was slow going, but a welcome relief to the past two 400 mile plus days. When we left Carey we pushed the last 200 miles with one stop long enough to fill the gas tank.
We rolled on through Silvan Pass at 8530 feet then descended back to the valley floor.
THE SHOSHONE RIVER ABOVE & BELOW
After departing Yellowstone we entered the Buffalo Bill State Park.
We followed the shoreline of the Buffalo Bill Reservoir before plunging through solid rock.
The sign for Big Horn Pass read 9033 feet.
In Cody we pulled over, it was 3:38. “Let’s get BBQ”, Lee exclaimed. And how could we not, with a joint named Bubba’s! This would be dinner.
The food was excellent and plentiful. To go containers please.
BUBBA AT BUBBA’S
The terrain east of Cody was extremely flat for a distance, but then it changed dramatically.
A sign appeared on RT 14 E. It said something like, “gravel stretches in 38 miles, motorcyclists advised to take alternate route”. Alternate routes are for wimps!!
RT 14 E descended into a narrow canyon. A small river ran to our left with vertical rock overshadowing us. Lee had asked me several times about gas, I told her we were fine, the bike ran out, or so I thought. Once replenished, I fired it back up. It wasn’t running well, but I assumed the float bowls were still filling. No dice. I pulled over and looked down. The right plug wire was hanging. Once it was reinserted into the distributor cap Bubba ran better!
On our accent out of the valley we had to stop three times for construction traffic lights that control traffic flow through a single lane section. It was slow going, but that was today’s theme, slow down, see stuff.
The sun was getting low as we began going downhill. As I approached a right hander a good size mule dear entered the road. I nailed the brakes and hit the horn. It ambled away.
We passed through more construction areas. There were vehicles, but no people.
At one point I saw two deer cross the road in the distance.
Around another right hand corner we descended a hill into an active construction zone. We had to wait while some equipment was cleared off the roadway. A black SUV was in front of us. A woman on a Triumph rolled in behind. Once released we had a fresh ribbon of asphalt to run and run we did. On a long straight I waved the Triumph past and it and the SUV slowly faded from sight. Eventually the pavement ended and we dropped back onto gravel. There was a good sized opening to my right so I pulled over to add a layer. Just as I stopped a dear crossed the road about 100 feet ahead. If I hadn’t pulled over we might have gotten up close and personal.
We continued descending, suddenly I saw a dear standing on the roads edge to my left. Within a hundred feet there was another on the right.
A sign appeared indicating a downhill grade of 8%. The road dropped and dropped and dropped. Back and forth we danced through myriad turns. Even with Bubba in 3rd and the throttle closed I still had to brake. We passed a semi that was barely moving. The smell of hot brakes filled the air. Being supper vigilant I scanned for deer while trying to watch the road. It had to have taken at least thirty minutes to get off the mountain, maybe more. Even though the speed limit was back to 65 mph, I putted along in fourth. The desire to get to Sheridan in as little time as possible was overruled by a stronger desire not to hit a 150 lb animal at speed.
RT 14 merged onto RT 90 for the last 10 miles so our velocity increased. Just before our exit there was road construction. Tall cones with reflective stripes were everywhere in an attempt to demarcate traffic flow. A corn maze would have been easier to navigate!
Coming down the ramp a large gas station appeared directly ahead. It was just shy of 8:00 pm. The bike and both gas jugs were filled. I purchased a Ballast Point to have in our room with “dinner” at the Super 8 a mile away.
Lee was working on our route to Sturgis and was full of questions. I called Mark. He advised us on routes and we formulated a plan for Saturday.
I was up until close to 1:30 am compiling the days’ events and didn’t finish. Up at 7:30 this morning I came down to breakfast to finish.
Time to get ready.
Location: Sheridan, WY
Ending Mileage: 27,816
A note about the mileage. Don reminded me that the rear drive is fitted with lower ratio gears due to the sidecar. As I went through one off those signs that display your speed it read 48 mph, my spedo indicated 60 mph so the mileage is higher that the actual. The odometer seems to be off less than the speedometer.
Adventures With Bubba 