As I had mentioned, I had a hard time sleeping. I think it was primarily due to the caffeine I had consumed, but the strange location and hard pillow didn't help. Add to that the myriad of life problems suffered by the people around me for which I feel compelled to find a solution. Those thoughts often wake my brain up at night and interrupt my sleep.
After laying in bed awake until after 1 AM, I then woke up a little after 4 with the aforementioned brain activity. I dozed a little but was mostly awake until the alarm went off at 6. Ugh. Two nights in a row with about three hours sleep. That's not a recipe for success.
I reluctantly got up and dressed. I was hungry, not having eaten much the previous day. Today wasn't a fasting day, so I could relax and eat reasonable amounts.
Overall the Ledgestone Hotel where I stayed was a nice place. My only complaints were the hard pillows, really slow elevator, and no continental breakfast. I suppose if every room contains a kitchenette they expect you to make your own. Not having any groceries with me, that wasn't an option.
However, there was a McDonald's across the street. I don't necessarily dislike McDonalds food, but at the moment there's not a whole lot on the menu I feel drawn to. I like the Big Mac, but it has gotten noticeably smaller over the years while the price has gone up, so I no longer feel it's a good value. From 2009 to 2013 they had a series of Angus burgers on their menu that were really good, but unfortunately they no longer offer those options.
One thing I definitely like at McDonalds is their breakfast. They have a lot of options, nearly all of which I enjoy. The one or two times I patronize McDonald's each year is usually for their breakfast offerings.
I walked across the street and ordered some breakfast. I absolutely love their hotcakes. I realize they're premade and frozen, and they just pull them out of the box and stick them in the microwave. On paper they shouldn't be good. I don't know what they put in them to make them so tasty, and I probably don't want to know. Probably crack cocaine.
The breakfast burritos are also pretty decent, albeit a bit small. So I ordered a couple of them as well. And a large coffee. As much as caffeine caused my problem, caffeine was also the only solution I knew of that would get me through less than six hours of sleep in the previous 48 hours.
After eating, I walked back to the hotel and packed up. I checked out, which was a little comical because I was so tired I kept giving my room number starting with a "7", while the hotel only had three floors.
I loaded up the bike and hit the road. Today was going to be the second most challenging day of the trip. (The day before was actually the 3rd.) I had 590 miles to go, half of which were going to be on low speed back roads. Plus I needed to be in Moscow, ID in time for supper to meet some friends.
I pulled out of the hotel parking lot at 7:34 AM. I was shooting for closer to 7 AM, so I had some time to make up.
The interstate was only a few blocks from the hotel, so I was heading west on I-90 before the motorcycle's engine was fully warmed up.
It was a cool morning in the mid-60s, but not as cold as the previous day. It was also supposed to warm up quickly into the triple digits, so I didn't wear my leather jacket and chaps. I did put on a sweatshirt under my mesh jacket just to keep the morning chill at bay.
My first gas stop was to be in Bozeman, MT about 140 miles away.
It was rush hour in Billings, so the traffic was a little heavy until I got out of town. Not gridlocked, or even slow for that matter, but lots of vehicles around me.
Really, I was surprised how much traffic there was throughout Montana on I-90. In my mind I always pictured the state as sparsely populated, but on this day there were almost always cars nearby.
The further west I rode from Billings, the better the scenery got. Lots of rolling hills and trees.
The time lapse camera was clicking photos every 30 seconds. Later when I was trying to sort through them all I found it difficult to know which ones to keep, and which to discard. They were all so scenic! I did manage to set most of them aside, but probably still kept too many. Anyway, you're going to see a lot of road photos from this day.
Occasionally I would see some really large mountains off in the distance. Not being familiar with Montana, I didn't know if the interstate was going to cross through those mountains or if it would veer around them. I generally like riding through the mountains, but on this day I found myself a little anxious about that prospect. It may have been the caffeine and my impaired mental state from sleep deprivation.
The closer I got to Bozeman, the prettier the scenery became. I noticed an interesting phenomenon as I rode on I-90 through Montana: the scenery on the east side of cities was nicer than the west side. Often after going through a city the road would straighten out and the hills would flatten for a while before it gradually became scenic again.
In Bozeman I pulled off and found the gas station. I had never been to Bozeman before, but I was aware of the city because I used to play with a drummer who grew up in Bozeman.
After filling the motorcycle with gas, I took a restroom break, then put sunscreen on my neck and wrists. Because I was still wearing a sweatshirt under my mesh jacket, my wrists and neck were the only places with exposed skin. I decided it was good insurance, as I've managed to sunburn my wrists before on previous trips.
Sixteen minutes later I was back on the interstate. It was now a little before 10 AM. My next gas stop was going to be Butte, only 80 miles down the road. Trying to make it all the way to Missoula was too long of a stretch, so I put a gas stop between here and there to make two shorter sections.
I just hammered down and tried to put miles behind me as I enjoyed the scenery.
A little past 11 AM I arrived in Butte, MT. This would be my second gas stop of the day.
Wanting to make good time, I pulled in, filled up, and quick used the bathroom. The temps were rapidly rising and now were in the upper 80s, so I removed my sweatshirt. I then put sunscreen on my arms even though I was wearing my armored mesh jacket. I learned (the hard way) the previous year that the mesh jacket lets UV rays through and I can still get a sunburn while wearing it.
I got back on the motorcycle and started it up. I was getting ready to pull away when a lady on the other side of the pump couldn't get her SUV started. I heard her crank and crank to no avail.
I was pretty sure it was her fuel pump. When they're reaching end of life they tend to die if the gas level in the tank gets lower than the pump motor which causes them to heat up. Then when a person fills the tank with cold gas, that's the final straw that kills the pump.
If you know where the pump is located in the tank you can sometimes crawl underneath and rap on the pump with a hammer to revive it. I didn't know where her pump was located, nor did I have a hammer. I was on the cusp of riding off when I had an overpowering sense that I should try and do something to help her.
While I am a spiritual person, I also have a science degree. As a result I believe that God speaks to us through the Holy Spirit, but I also don't attribute every little life event to the supernatural. In this case, however, I felt it was clearly an urging from God that I should do something to help.
"God, I'm on a time schedule here…" I caught myself thinking as I turned off the motorcycle and got back off. I'm pretty sure God rolls his eyes at me often.
I had all my gear on, including my helmet when I approached the woman. I think I scared her a little. Her window was down, and I told her my suspicions that it was the fuel pump. She asked what to do, and not having the knowledge or tools available to fix her problem, I offered to push her vehicle over to a parking space so it wasn't blocking the pump. That would at least remove some of the time pressure to get her car moved.
I pushed her car while she steered. The SUV was heavier than I expected it to be. Or maybe I'm just older than I used to be. In any event, I managed to get her car moved. Not knowing what else to do, I wished her well and proceeded to walk back to the motorcycle. The time lapse camera caught the tail end of the event.
I was almost back on the bike when the lady got out of her car and approached me. She didn't have a phone, and asked if she could use mine to call her son for help. I agreed, unlocked my phone and handed it to her.
It's interesting how sometimes you can just hear one side of the conversation and know what the other person is saying. In this case, the son first didn't believe that she couldn't get the car started, and then was trying to get out of coming to help. I don't know all the dynamics of their relationship, but I found myself feeling sad that their association had degraded to that level.
After a few minutes she managed to convince him to come pick her up. She gave him directions, hung up and handed the phone back to me.
Once again, I didn't know what else I could do, and didn't sense any further spiritual direction. I wished her well again, and got on the motorcycle and pulled out while she waited for help to come.
Shortly after I got back on the interstate my Ride Command screen indicated an incoming call. It was a number I didn't recognize, but a Montana area code. I suspected it was her son calling back. I knew by the time I reached an exit and could safely pull over the caller would be long gone. So I continued on. He never called back.
My next section was another shorter ride, to Lolo, MT which was about 10 miles south of Missoula.
It was a good thing I removed my sweatshirt. The temp climbed fast. I was quickly feeling very warm even with the wind blowing on me.
The miles slowly ticked away as I rode. I was looking forward to getting off the interstate and on to the next leg of the day's journey.
Although, I must admit that for interstate riding the scenery wasn't too bad.
I made it to Missoula around 12:45 PM. The GPS routed me through some residential areas. Looking at the map, I suppose technically it was the fastest route, but it seemed kind of weird.
The temp was now right at 100°F. It was bearable when I was on the interstate, but when I was sitting still in traffic it made me cranky. The lack of sleep probably wasn't helping. With each stop light impeding my progress I was getting more and more upset. I needed to get off the bike for a while and give myself an attitude adjustment.
The bike also wasn't super happy in the heat. It was running fine, but was starting to make a weird warbling sound for about a second when decelerating and reaching about 15 mph. I thought it may be brakes, but when I would hear it I would apply the brakes and that didn't affect the sound. Maybe it was a wheel bearing? Not sure. After I got home from my trip I couldn't replicate the issue. I'm chalking it up to the excessive heat.
Eventually I got out of Missoula. Just 10 more miles to Lolo, MT for a gas stop and hopefully a few minutes off the bike. Despite my breakfast, I was also feeling really hungry. That wasn't helping my mood either.
I arrived in Lolo at 1:20, feeling very overheated. The thermometer now said 102°F. At the gas station before I did anything I stripped off my jacket and gloves. I try to be a good boy and wear my protective gear when it's reasonable. I was now at the point where I had to choose to die via road abrasion or heat stroke. I picked the possibility of road abrasion and removed my gear.
I had brought an extra piece of luggage that I strapped on the back of my trunk. I used this bag to store whichever jacket/gear I wasn't wearing at the moment. However I had neglected to account for the possibility that I would sometimes be wearing no gear. The bag was already full, so I didn't have a good place to store my mesh jacket. I managed to wad it up and stuff it into one of the saddlebags.
While filling the bike with gas, two ladies pulled up on motorcycles. The gas station was right at the junction of highway 12, where I was heading, and I had seen them come in from that highway. I chatted with them about the ride and asked a few questions about the temperature on that road. They both agreed that I wouldn't need a jacket.
With the jacket off and the gas tank full, my next quest was to find some food. There was a McDonald's attached to the gas station, plus the normal food fare gas stations provide. I was right at the junction of highway 12 and would have to backtrack to eat anywhere else. I decided I wasn't motivated to ride anywhere else, so my decision came down to McDonald's for the 2nd time that day, or a gas station hot dog. I chose McDonald's.
I went inside and felt the refreshing blast of cold air. After a quick stop in the restroom, I ordered a couple of hamburgers off the value menu using the kiosk. I didn't want to stuff myself, I just needed a little padding in the stomach. I also desperately wanted some water, but the kiosk wanted to charge me $1.00 for an empty glass. I figured I would risk a different approach.
When my number was called, I asked the woman behind the counter if I could get an empty glass for water. She happily handed me a glass. I filled it up, chugged it, and then filled it again.
I was torn between needing some rest in the cool air, and wanting to get to Moscow, ID in time to meet my friends Mike and Jennie for supper. I sat for about 20 minutes and ate my burgers and drank more water. Then I reluctantly walked back out to the blast furnace.
I decided it would be prudent to put on another layer of sunscreen. The bottle had been sitting in my saddlebag, which had been in the hot sun all day. I stood in the blazing sun and wiped the hot sunscreen on my arms and face.
Knowing the next section of road was supposed to be scenic, I decided to try something with the time lapse camera. One of the features of my camera was the ability to create time lapse movies. I thought it would be neat if I could create a sped up movie of my trip between Lolo, MT and Kooskia, ID. So I adjusted my camera to take a picture every 10 seconds (instead of every 30.)
Did it work? Not really. I mean, a movie file was created, but the 10 second intervals combined with me riding at 60 mph made for a really choppy 30 FPS video that was unwatchable. I think a 10 second photo interval might be good at walking speeds. At highway speeds probably a 1 second interval would be better. As it turned out, every second of video covered five miles of riding.
The good news is, I still got lots of photos. And I mean lots of photos. The increased photo interval made for a ton of pictures I had to sort through later.
I headed out on highway 12 towards Kooskia, ID, which was 130 miles down the road. As I mentioned, there were quite a few photos from this stretch.
Up until I reached this portion of the trip, I had left my stereo turned off. At interstate speeds, the wind is loud enough without also trying to crank the tunes to an audible level. As a favor to my ears, I leave the music off when riding 65 mph or above.
However, on this stretch the speed limit was 55 mph. That meant the music could get turned on which gave me a little bit of a mental break. It was nice to be able to focus on something other than how incredibly warm it was outside.
There were a few spots along the way where there was construction, and they had automated stoplights set up to direct traffic.
For the entire 130 mile stretch between Lolo and Kooskia, there was no cell service. Even when I went through a couple of the small towns on the route, I got no bars on my phone. I wondered what people did if they broke down? There were plenty of other vehicles on the road, so at least you could probably flag someone down for help and/or a ride. Breaking down on this stretch would definitely be inconvenient. Thankfully, I didn't.
Close to the halfway point I encountered a flagman holding a stop sign. I came to a stop, and was first in line.
Cars started to line up behind me. As motorcycles got in line, the flagman motioned for them to come to the front. So I was no longer first in line.
The flagman was a nice guy. He said that he always moves the bikers to the front so once we're out of the construction we don't have a line of slower moving vehicles lined up ahead of us. He also offered all of us water, as the temps were absolutely brutal.
The stop was about 15 minutes long. I got off the bike and was talking with other riders as we waited. The riders I am talking to in the picture were from Canada and were on their way to California. We all agreed the heat was taking its toll.
Eventually the flagman gave us the two minute warning. I got back on my bike and started it back up. Then he motioned us to go. Not all the riders were ready yet, so I passed some of them as I entered the construction zone.
For the amount of time we were waiting, I was surprised how small the construction zone was. Within a mile we were past it, and really it didn't look like a whole lot was happening to the road.
There weren't any cars in front of us for miles. I had a couple on a motorcycle ahead of me that was riding at a pretty good clip. I kind of like that when I'm in a new area. I can watch the bike in front of me as they take the corners to get an idea of how fast I can take them myself.
I rode behind them for about 30 miles. I tried to keep up with them, but stayed far enough back that I wasn't riding their tail. They were making good time, and I was interested in making good time as well.
As we rode, I realized that the entire 130 mile stretch between Lolo, MT and Kooskia, ID was all downhill. And most of it wasn't a gradual downhill slope, but had a noticeable pitch. It made sense once I thought about how this highway follows the river.
The couple in front of me eventually pulled into a campground. I was on my own now to figure out how fast I could ride the corners. I tried to maintain about the same pace as I had been riding.
I finally arrived at my gas stop in Kooskia, ID. It was later in the day than I expected. It was also unworldly hot. As I was filling my gas tank I chatted with another biker who also just came down highway 12. We compared notes, as riders often do.
I decided even though I was running behind schedule, I needed to take a couple minutes and drink some fluid. I went inside and bought a Gatorade. The kid behind the counter apologized that he had to charge me an extra 25 cents to use a credit card. I told him that I wasn't going to die of heat stroke just to save a quarter.
The temperature was now 109°F. That's a pretty typical summer day… if you live on Mercury. I thought maybe my bike's thermometer was reading incorrectly, but then I looked at a bank down the street and their sign read 108°F. So it was definitely in that range.
I went back outside and chugged the Gatorade. Then suddenly my innards revolted, I'm pretty sure as a result from the extreme heat. I ran back inside and inquired about the rest room. The kid gave me the key attached to a long stick, and told me it was outside around the back of the building.
I'm not a complete germaphobe, but there are certain things I prefer not to do in a gas station restroom. At this point, I had no choice. I made it to the restroom and my body purged itself of everything I had eaten that day. I'm pretty sure it was due to being overheated.
I sat for a few minutes to make sure the event was over, however the bathroom wasn't air conditioned so that gave me motivation to wrap things up as soon as possible.
Once that horror was over, I started to prepare to hit the road again. Looking at the GPS, I realized I still had a 100 miles to go. In my mind Kooskia was only 50 miles from Moscow. That was a disappointing discovery to learn I had twice the distance ahead of me than what I expected.
I had originally told Mike I hoped to be in Moscow around 6 PM. It now looked like it would be a little after 7 before I would arrive, but then I glanced at the clock and noticed something else: this area in Idaho is in the Pacific time zone. I hadn't noticed the time change as I was riding.
I would later learn that the bottom half of Idaho is in Mountain Time, but the top half of Idaho is in Pacific Time. I had assumed the entire state was Mountain Time. That bought me an extra hour in which to get to Moscow.
I texted Mike and told him where I was. He responded that we could meet for breakfast instead if I couldn't get to Moscow by supper time. Looking at the clock, it was almost 4:30 PST. I thought I could get there easily in time for supper, so I told him I'd hurry and let him know as soon as I arrived.
I took off, and continued to follow highway 12 towards Lewiston, ID.
Like it had earlier in the day, highway 12 continued to follow the Clearwater River.
I tried to hurry as fast as I could, but not being familiar with the road I wasn't sure how fast I could actually take the corners. A truck passed me, and the driver seemed to be local and driving fairly aggressively, so I fell in behind him and used him as a gauge as to how fast to ride the curves.
This area was very pretty. Unfortunately I was trying to make time and focusing on the road so I wasn't appreciating the scenery as much as I should.
Luckily I had the time lapse camera to capture the scenery. In Kooskia I had switched it back to snap photos every 30 seconds, and would leave it on this setting for the remainder of the trip.
Near Lewiston, ID, I left highway 12 and started heading north on highway 95. This highway leaves the river valley and immediately climbs more than 1,500 feet in just a few miles.
This was a very steep road. I could tell cars were struggling to maintain speed as we climbed higher and higher.
My motorcycle handled the climb pretty well, but I'm sure I drank a bunch of gas to maintain highway speeds.
At the top of the hill things flattened out. It was now rolling hills and farmland with very few trees. Quite a bit different than what I had ridden through earlier in the day.
I finally arrived in Moscow. I was ready to get off the bike, get into some A/C, enjoy a shower, put on cooler clothes and relax at a meal with friends.
I found my Airbnb where I would be staying that night. It was a multi-unit apartment. I was in room number six. I found my parking space and pulled in at 6:13 PM.
As soon as I got off the bike I texted Mike to let him know I had arrived at my Airbnb. I figured that way he'd know we were still on for supper, and maybe we could meet about 7 PM.
He immediately texted back and said he'd be at the restaurant in eight minutes. Whoa! I guess Mike doesn't like a late dinner. Ok, so change of plans. No time for a shower or a leisurely change of clothes.
As fast as I could I grabbed all my luggage and made my way inside. There was an outer door with a key code, then I went up the stairs to my room which had a different key code.
I opened the door. The room was small, but that was OK. I knew it would probably be small, but I really didn't need anything more than a place to shower and sleep.
It was also pretty warm. There was a window A/C unit that was turned off. I flipped it on and hoped that the room would cool down while I was at supper. If not, it was going to be a really long night.
I just dumped my stuff on the bed. I'd worry about organization later. I was in need of water, so I filled my bottle in the sink and chugged it. I then quick changed into regular jeans and tennis shoes, and headed out the door.
The restaurant was about seven blocks from my room. I decided it probably wasn't much slower to walk there than ride, plus I wasn't real eager to get right back on the motorcycle. I took off and found the restaurant. Probably from the time I texted Mike until I arrived was about 20 minutes. Under the circumstances I don't think I could have gotten there any faster.
We met at the Tapped Taphouse and Kitchen.
I walked in and was surprised how full the place was. Every single table was taken. I saw Mike waving at me from across the room. I walked over, greeted them, and snapped this photo:
As it turns out, Mike didn't realize this evening was also a big trivia contest night. So that's why it was so full of people. As a result it was a little loud as we visited, but it was air conditioned and they had water so I was good.
Speaking of water, when the waitress brought me a glass of water I immediately chugged it right in front of her. Even though I'd had a couple of burgers for lunch, I ordered a burger and fries. She asked if I wanted anything else to drink and I just said, "more water please." She brought a pitcher, and before the end of the meal I had drunk all of it. I think I was pretty dehydrated.
Mike and Jenny had moved to Moscow from Sioux Falls about two years prior. They had a son who already lived there, so they moved out to join him and the grandkids. They had purchased a plot of land, and had a plan to build a house on the property while they temporarily lived in a camper. Mike still remotely worked for the same company I work for, and was going to try and do as much of the development/building as he could on his own.
Mike started working on the property, getting a lot of the grading done and a well dug. It was progressing, albeit slower than he had projected. Then as so often happens, life threw them a curveball.
For about seven years Jenny had been fighting what they thought was Parkinson's disease. However, the medication she was taking to control the symptoms was no longer working. Upon visiting some specialists, she eventually found one who diagnosed her with MSA (multiple system atrophy.)
I had never heard of MSA before. Mike explained that it's kind of a cross between Parkinson's and ALS. It starts out with Parkinson-like symptoms, then as the disease progresses the symptoms change to be more like ALS. In fact, like in Jenny's case, most of the time the initial diagnosis is Parkinson's, then once the medication stops working they dig deeper and discover MSA.
There is no cure. Prognosis is usually about ten years from the time of first symptoms. As I had mentioned, Jenny started showing symptoms seven years ago. That was not good news.
They had only recently received Jenny's diagnosis. Given her new health situation, it no longer made sense for them to build a house. They purchased a small trailer home in Moscow, and moved into it. The plans were to sell the land, although there was a possibility their son might buy it. Instead of building a home they were now in the process of putting together a "bucket list" of things they wanted to do in the next year while Jenny still could.
At this point the disease had taken most of Jenny's speech. She could talk quietly just a little, but given the loud atmosphere of the bar as the trivia contest was in progress, she mostly was only able to listen. Occasionally she would close her eyes and they would stay shut. I mistakenly assumed she had fallen asleep, but Mike explained that several times per day she would blink and her muscles wouldn't work to allow her to reopen her eyes. After a little bit of time her eyes would finally get the message from her brain and then her eyes would reopen.
Well, that wasn't the news I wanted to hear. Despite the dire situation, they were both in good spirits and we had an enjoyable couple of hours.
Eventually, we all needed to call it a night. I wished them well, told them I would keep them in my prayers, and started to walk back to my room.
Knowing I didn't have a lot of energy left, I called the Tundra Girl as I walked back. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone that way.
When I got back to the room I was happy to discover the A/C unit had cooled it down.
In the bathroom, I found something interesting. I had heard about toilets like these, but had never seen one in person. This was a water saving toilet, with a little sink built on top. The idea is when you flush the toilet, the water used to refill the tank first runs out of this sink. You can use this water to wash your hands. Then that water is reused for the next flush.
It's a pretty cool idea. I might have to think about that for my house.
I needed a shower, but was completely out of gas. I decided I could wait to shower in the morning. I caught up on a little correspondence, which wound up taking a lot more time than I expected. When I was finally finished, I didn't even turn on the TV in the room; I just hit the sack.
It was now 11 PM Moscow time, which was 1 AM my body's time, 3.5 hours later than my target bedtime. Between the change in routine, and the change in time zones, I knew this trip would mess with my sleep schedule. However, I didn't expect it to happen this quickly.
After I crawled in bed, I fell asleep almost immediately. At this point I'd only slept six hours in the last sixty, so even the caffeine I'd had that morning wasn't going to hinder me. The mattress was comfortable. Again, the pillow was a little hard, but it didn't matter. I zonked.
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This page last updated on 12/13/2024