Social Distancing, Part 9

April 22, 2020 by David Snodgrass in Social Distancing, Roadtrip

If you journey to the most extreme place in the Pacific Northwest, you’ll find yourself on the property of the Makah Tribe to the West of their small town of Neah Bay. The Cape Flattery Trail is a relatively short hike through the woods before the cliffs open up to the Pacific Ocean. Narrow inlets are filled with rocks and islands. There are more eagles than people out here. The sounds of the wind through the trees, crashing waves, and barking of seals dominate the setting.

I was last here almost four years ago with my son. We took a weekend trip from his Seattle home out to the Olympic Peninsula. Hurricane Ridge was still snow covered, so we headed out and around as far as you can go in the lower 48. This is a solid 5-6 hour drive from Seattle. It is not really a place where you should be trying to make time on the roads. In early Spring it is quite deserted.

It is such a remote place. It is ironic that now my son is even further NW of here - almost 2400 miles away, out along the Aleutian Islands, bouncing around in a fishing vessel. For a few more weeks. Hopefully he’ll be back in the PNW shortly after that. Back among the people, just as we come out of our forced hibernation.

Social Distancing, Part 8

April 18, 2020 by David Snodgrass in Social Distancing

While the term “social distancing” is currently all the rage (somewhat unfortunately), as a solo motorcyclist, I have been a practicing distancer for quite awhile. For more than just 6 feet, too.

A large part of my trip planning has revolved around finding and experiencing what I always hope will be the best of the Western United States (and BC, too). For me, that means byways with very little traffic, big vistas, hard to get to special places, and in general, the road less traveled. Notice I did not say crowded parking lots at National Parks. Luckily, there are enough great places to visit that staying away from crowds is fairly easy to do. It does take some planning, and in many cases, when you go matters almost as much as where you go.

Case in point, the photo above is an example of paying close attention to the calendar, to calculate the best time to visit the best place. The Beartooth Highway, also known as U.S. Route 212, straddles Montana and Wyoming between Red Lodge and the Northeast entrance of Yellowstone National Park.

My trip, in June of 2017, was made from Yellowstone (Cody, WY) towards Red Lodge. The specific plan for the timing was to arrive and ride the Beartooth while the large snow walls were still in place along the route. This is one of the highest roadways in the US, at almost 11,000 feet. Throughout May, I watched the Montana DOT YouTube channel as they documented the work required to open the road by Memorial Day. The drifts and avalanched snow piles up all Winter, and then the highway guys attack it with heavy equipment.

I went through the area at the end of the first week of June. The weather was clear, crisp, and not too windy. There were very few people traversing the area. At the summit, the terrain is pretty bare, so wind, rain or fog would be awful and likely dangerous on a motorcycle. I lucked out. It was as beautiful as I had hoped. I closed out my day in Red Lodge with a celebratory brew (from Red Lodge Ale). Cheers to social distancing!

Social Distancing, Part 4

April 07, 2020 by David Snodgrass in Social Distancing, Roadtrip

When I see this picture, a lot goes through my mind. On the surface, you see a pretty straight section of road. What I recall, is that I had spent most of the day riding through Utah and Southern Idaho, and was just trying to make miles. It was the next to last day of a 16 day, 6 state tour across a big chunk of the Western United States. I wasn’t ready for the trip to end.

The weather had turned a bit nasty, with high winds and threatening clouds. I made a pit stop to take a look at the map and plan a route up to Salmon, Idaho for the night. I was somewhere near Atomic City, so I still had about 175 miles to go. I picked Highway 93, mostly because it would lead me to the Salmon River, and rolling along rivers makes for a scenic ride.

What I didn’t realize is that a decent chunk of this remaining ride would skirt the Lost Range. This is actually one of the taller sections of the Rockies that cuts across Idaho. I had no idea. This ended up being one of the prettier sections of road on a 3000 mile trip. In between the mountains, the wind settled down, and it never did rain much more than a sprinkle. I puttered along saying hello to the cows and admiring the views. As I pulled over to snap a view pics and have a snack, I realized I could stand in the middle of the road, in the middle of the valley, and frame my shots however I wanted. Empty Idaho.

Social Distancing, Part 3

April 04, 2020 by David Snodgrass in Social Distancing, Roadtrip

It is pretty easy to find empty space in Idaho. Many times, that means heading off of the freeway, off of the state highways and byways, on down a gravel road.

I’ve never been a fan of using a GPS while exploring, via car, or especially on a motorcycle. The fewer gadgets the better. The abundance of gravel roads in Idaho was one of the main reasons I sought a smaller ADV motorcycle like my BMW G650GS. The bike is much lighter than many of the super-ADV liter+ bikes but runs well on a 50/50 tire, and can carry everything I need for longer trips in Touratech panniers.

So down the gravel roads I go. I this particular photo, what you can’t see from here is up this road a ways…are the Western side of the Tetons in Idaho. I spent a few days in this area rather than the much busier and more expensive Jackson area across Teton Pass in Wyoming. I had rented a small canvas walled cabin, stocked with a little stove for heat, and a nice front porch face a little stream. The favorite part of my visit was the hospitality of the local people. They checked me in, pointed to a path and said, “Your cabin is down that trail.” They offered the use of the fridge in the unlocked lodge, and then left to go home.

It was mid-week and clearly pre-season. There were no other guests at the 4 other disbursed cabins. Never saw another person for 2-1/2 days. Each evening I was stalked by local wildlife - in this case, a cat who clearly needed some company.

You don’t always luck into circumstances like these. In our current pandemic, I long for the remoteness of places like this.