Social Distancing, Part 5
Making time for a midday walk, to break up the closed off nature of working at home. Also, I’m still exploring a new city. And it doesn’t hurt that today was the warmest day of 2020.
Making time for a midday walk, to break up the closed off nature of working at home. Also, I’m still exploring a new city. And it doesn’t hurt that today was the warmest day of 2020.
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.
Step 1. Point car down a random road and see where it goes.
Step 2. Enjoy the view. A Sunday drive seemed like a pretty nice way to get out of the house in a safe way. After a week where Butte had new snow almost every day, I think everyone here is looking forward to this week, where the temperatures are supposed to be warmer and the big sun ball is supposed to make an appearance, too.
Today’s drive took me across the Pipestone Pass. From town, this looks to be a really close route to trailheads for hiking. They are still covered in snow, but I did see a small handful of vehicle parked along the way. In the distance in the photo is the Tobacco Root range. Some day, I may live out that way. It is fun to imagine a daily mountain view.
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.
One of the places with about as much distance between people (or cattle) as anywhere in the West is SE Oregon. It is a fun area to travel to and around. The landscape is very different from most of the rest of the Pacific Northwest. One of the most unique features of this area is the dry lake bed of the Alvord Desert.
Flanked on the West by the Steens Mountain, which has an elevation of 9,734 feet, this high desert area gets very little precipitation in the shadow of the mountain. Riding on the surface of the lake is a bit odd. It looks dry, but at least in May, there can be hidden mud and goo just below the white crust. It is hard to trust it as a riding surface.
So look up the Oregon Scenic Byway and the High Desert Discovery Route. You will be at least 6 feet, and maybe 6 miles away from anyone else.
Even before the current global pandemic, I was actually pretty good at social distancing. In this particular case, after a long day of riding on an unseasonably hot day in British Columbia, I ended my day at a really nice campsite.
I had a nice view of the fast-moving green water of the Fraser River, a bit North of the outpost of Tête Jaune Cache, which is not far from the stunning Mt. Robson. After arriving and securing my spot for the night, I realized I would need to backtrack to town to gather supplies (beer). After making the 30km loop, the manager of the place was kind enough to loan me a bucket of ice so I could rapidly chill my sixxer of Kokanee. Oddly enough, no one else was camping in a tent. Something about a bear in the area… I slept well, nonetheless. The bear was on the other side of the Fraser.
Coming to grips with life at 5500 feet. Winter is just going to hang in there, and hang in there some more. On the plus side, the early morning light on the nearby peaks is a joy to behold each sunny morning.