1996 Beartooth Highway

(Originally posted 9/8/96 as "The Daves Do Montana...Montana...Montana" and included comments added by the other participants.)



The Daves (Ramsey, left, and Smalley, right) do Montana...Montana...Montana.

DR made it all the way to the Mandera Household and survived his Introduction to Chaos quite nicely. He seemed rather amused and mentioned appreciating his nice quiet life on South Mountain in central Maryland.

We planned to depart for Billings early Friday morning. Finally made it out the door by 5:30 p.m. DR now claims the title, "Nightrider in Training." I was gentle on him during his first night of training--we made it to Billings before midnight.

DS was waiting. I can't say he was waiting patiently, but he *was* waiting. He even had a room and a bed for us to sleep in. A bed--his!!!!! (And I managed to survive the night.)

We got an early start the next morning--stopped at the Beartooth HD shop in Billings and headed out from there at about noon. We were finally headed to Red Lodge and our Beartooth Highway Adventure.

DR had done the Beartooth before, so he led the way. I was in the middle--again, and DS got stuck in the back.

The Beartooth Highway runs from Red Lodge, Montana, through part of Wyoming, and back into Montana at Cooke City--the entrance to Yellowstone. We planned to make it all the way through Yellowstone and the four hours back to Helena all within that day. We failed.

We did, however, make it to Cooke City and another motel. This one had *two* beds in the room. I thought I could have one and they'd share the other. Wrong. These guys were playing hard ball, and there wasn't an umpire in sight.

The two beds ended up pushed together. I got the crack. Stuck in the middle again--literally.

DS got an early start the next morning. He felt the call and had to go back to re-do the Beartooth Highway without the handicap of an "inexperienced" rider who wiggles through the corners. DR said he didn't mind those wiggles at all.

I need to mention that something happened to my favorite pair of jeans early on in the trip. They were worn a bit thin, and every time I bent down to zip or unzip my chaps--the leg separated further and further from the....um.....other part. Fortunately, I was wearing thermals under the jeans--white, not black.

White was absolutely not acceptable to DR. He insisted that I had to be wearing black under the jeans--something about an old memory or something--he didn't elaborate and I didn't ask. I just did as a good little girl should do and purchased black thermals at the first possible opportunity. He was happy. (DS didn't seem to mind either.)

And I made a point of unzipping those chaps at every stop. DR took *lots* of pictures. He even took pictures of me riding a rock.

Back to the morning after the Beartooth Highway. DS returned from his morning run in gleeful posession of a Piece of the Rock, and we were finally ready to leave the motel--two beds pushed together, blankets torn off and a half-chewed dog biscuit laying in the corner. (No, I don't know which of these guys is into dog biscuits, but I figured I'd leave it there to give the management something to think about for a loooooooong time.)

We headed into Yellowstone and did as many of the trails as time permitted. Wonderful ride, beautiful scenery, great company, tons of fun. My face is now sporting a bright red glow--was it the sun? Or something else?

After a quick meal in Gardiner, Montana, and an encounter with four...count 'em, four... little old ladies who insisted on a photo op with The Daves to make their husbands jealous, we were almost ready to roll once again. But the guys couldn't decide who should lead and who should follow. I took charge and made a quick exit--leaving them in the dust to figure it out.

I led the way for the remainder of the trip. DS's speedo wasn't working, so he didn't realize that I was taking full advantage of Montana's "reasonable & prudent" speed rule--85+ on the interstate and 75+ on the two lane roads. (He did pass me by just as we headed into the curves coming down from the Bozeman pass--looked like he had that bike leaning about as far as a bike could possibly lean when he disappeared from sight. We caught up to him after the road straightened out and I took the lead again.

When we finally tried to pull the bikes into the garage at about 9:30 p.m. Saturday night, we found the first of many surprises. The garage was filled with all the pieces and parts of what should have been a storage shed. And a bunch of furniture.

Another surprise greeted us when we walked into the house--after putting it off as long as we possibly could. Most of my room was spread between the living room and the dining room and Ric's room. Most of Paige's room was in my old room. Showers weren't an option because there were no clean towels. And there were no "available" sleeping spots.

I kicked Shawn and Julie out of the house--they went to a motel, leaving a bed for DR. And I kicked Paige out of my old room, giving DS a place to sleep.

Then I spent the remainder of the night doing laundry--towels first.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best of homecomings, but it *was* a great trip!

Return home.

CLM -- 9/8/96; revised 3/5/98