Today's going to be an easy day, relatively short mileage through some really choice scenery. If only we can get out of Hardin!
It seems the lads, Nate and JP, never actually left Shawna's Casino/Steakhouse, at least not until around 2:30am, at which point they scurried off to an after-party (do they really have "after-parties" in Montana?) put on by Shawna herself and some of Hardin's hardiest revelers.
From all accounts, they had a hell of a time: Nate was challenged to a friendly fight by one of the local toughs (no fists were thrown, but they ultimately threw down drinks like brothers – apparently, duking it out is the local way of getting to know ya), while JP found a "new friend" and was AWOL for an hour or two. It was only after Nate began searching house-to-house, revving the piss out of his mighty Road Glide, that the younger buck staggered out into the street. They didn't get back to the Super Eight until after 4am.
Needless to say, they are in no condition for an early morning launch. That's cool – I don’t really remember, but I’m pretty sure I was young once, too, so we’re letting them sleep until checkout. We wipe down the bikes, get organized, watch some news.
Once the "undead" regain consciousness, we fire up the rigs and head east to Garryowen, Montana, a small village near the Little Big Horn battlefield. As a matter of fact, it's the place where the actual battle began. There's a small store and museum. It’s very interesting, and Mark augments the displays with many "fun facts" about the period; he's extremely well read about western folklore and history. He has really made this portion of the trip far more rewarding…his knowledge has enriched the experience for young and old.
From Garryowen, we hook a one-eighty and head back west along Interstate 90 to Billings. A quick breakfast at a Flying "J" truck stop – holy smoke, the amount of chow they serve up is staggering, and it’s darn good, too! At our gas stop, Nate asks for a bungee cord. It seems his left saddlebag mounts are busted and he needs an “alternate mounting system” (never leave home without bungees, they're almost as handy as duct tape). There’s an interesting story behind the dangling saddlebag, but all I can say is that it’s not a factory defect indicative of crappy craftsmanship. Instead, it’s the result of getting butt-ended by none other than JP himself. You'll have to get the details on your own, as it didn't happen on this trip.
Full of food and fuel, we head back out on 90 to Laurel, where we turn south on Highway 310 toward Wyoming. Soon, we find ourselves in the country on fantastic two-lane. It's warm, but thankfully not oppressive because the humidity is mild. The traffic is light and so we’re running a good pace.
We're right on the eastern edge of the Beartooth Mountain Range...stark, jagged and utterly beautiful. Rain clouds are building to the west, with streaks of sun forcing their way through the leaden clouds. Will we get our first real rain of the trip? It sort of looks like it. We cross over the Clark Fork of the Yellowstone River at least three times. It's hard to focus on the road, the terrain is so compelling…trust me, this is a road you want to ride. We keep riding south, snaking along the valley floor, still no rain – at least not on us, though it's pouring up on the peaks.
One of the neat things about riding motorcycles is the little stuff you notice that you'd never be aware of in a car. For instance, the minute temperature changes that you feel with the change in cloud cover. It might only be a degree or two, but you notice, and you know you’re “in it”.
All too quickly, we're dropping down into Cody, Wyoming. Cody is a quaint, authentic Old West town surrounded by some of the most beautiful mountains I've ever seen. We cruise in, stopping off at a gun store (surprised?) before we fill up with gas (less to do tomorrow) and check in at the Comfort Inn.
Once the bikes are unloaded, we head off on foot to take in the town…that’s pretty easy considering it's about six blocks long! We spy a re-enactment of what I think is supposed to be the gunfight at the OK Corral. Not really sure as the production value is, well, kinda "off". The costumes are nice, though.
We amble down to the Buffalo Bill Historical Center and Museum. It is totally first-rate, with the largest collection of American firearms in the world. There are five museums in the complex, but we only have time to get through some of the firearms section when they begin to close up for the day. We’ll see the rest tomorrow before we head out of town on our way to Jackson.
Since today is the old man’s birthday – that would be Vince! – we take him to an Italian restaurant for one of his favorites: pizza. After way too much food – a constant theme on this trip – we stroll back to the hotel. Time for a serious laundry session, which is a pretty big challenge for me (I have other skills…). Fortune smiles again when we find a laundromat that will wash, dry and fold the clothes for $.50 a pound. Sweet, I'm saved by Dixie – I'll be seeing her tomorrow after 9:30am to pick up my fresh duds. I like Cody.
For those of you keeping track, we've traveled over 2,200 miles so far. One of the cool features of Vince's itinerary is that we don't backtrack on our eastbound route until Elko – and after that, who really cares?! It's new sights and new roads every day. I highly recommend this “loop” strategy because it really makes the return journey way more enjoyable. Oh, and the lads, well they're asleep as I’m writing this...guess they'll have to sample the Cody nightlife on the next trip.
