REPOSTED with PHOTOS, July 16, Thermopolis to Belgrade (posted July 17)

Notice:  Only a few photos are here / I'm too tired to finish it, and my computer is not helping.  More photos later.

I made it to my friend, Jan's, in Belgrade. I've known her for nearly 40 years, dating back to when we both worked at the FAA in Fairbanks back in the early 1970s. We have a lot of history although we've not seen each other too much over the past number of years. The last time I saw her was a couple of years ago for an hour's visit when Biker Bill and I were traveling through here. You can bet we did non-stop talking until we went to bed.


My last day's journey to get to Jan's was a great one. It was mostly the kind that makes you want to stay on the bike and travel forever. I was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt, a sweatshirt, light gloves and my stars and stripes headband, rolling out of my motel just before 8 a.m. I did turn Spot on, but somehow it again got tripped and did not record my travels.

It does appear that it's time for this trip to end … I ran out of deodorant (not that it's been working in the heat)and I either need to come home or do laundry again.

Jan didn't usually get off work until 5 p.m. or so, so I knew I had a rather leisurely day of riding, about 270-300 miles or so. So, of course, there would be lots of time to take photos along the way.

My chosen route was Highway 120 to Cody, then on up 296, through the northeast gate of Yellowstone to Gardiner and into Livingston on 89, and then I-90 hellbent for Bozeman, then Belgrade.

At 7:55 a.m. It was 64 degrees, and I made the correct turn out of the motel parking lot. I always have a 50 percent chance of being right. Parking lots are my nemesis.

I rode the top of the plains where it was cool, sunny and absolutely perfect riding. It felt as though I were on top of the world and I could ride forever, just for the pure joy of riding. It's when you and your bike are one, and everything … stars, moon, sun have come together to create joy and perfection in your world.

There were more antelope today, although nowhere near as many as yesterday, and I had a deer alongside the road, trying to make a decision to cross or not in front of me. I stopped to take photos and unknowingly (couldn't smell it right away) stopped right near a dead cow elk. I saw it, legs up in the air, as I had walked off the road a little ways toward a fence to try to catch yet another wildlife photo. Must have been hit by a truck it was so far off the road. Ugh.

Highway 120 follows distant mountains capped with snow, yet you're down in a valley, until you start the climb up toward Meeteetse. I passed a 5,797 elevation sign.


In Cody, I found a veteran's memorial that was dedicated in 2009 to veterans of World Wars I and II and Viet Nam, and stopped to take multiple photos for the Marine vet I live with. I enjoy being able to share some of these things with him as I know they're important to him.

There are stones dedicated to those who lost their lives.

This is the Viet Nam part of the memorial.

The museum Biker Bill said I should at least take a photo of to prove I'd been there.,

Biker Bill had said I should stop by the Cody Museum in remembrance of our rides there, but I elected not to and to keep going. I made a wrong turn and missed the 120 highway, and had to backtrack. I figured that was a sign that I was to go to the museum and take a photo to prove I was there. When we had visited the museum a number of years ago, the security folks apparently thought we were not of a caliber of person that should be there and kept a very close watch on us. It was the atmosphere of a library, yet we stood in front of a wall-sized painting of Custer's Last Stand, and Biker Bill told me this joke. We laughed, and the security guy moved toward us, knowing that we had done something we should not have. Just talking. Anyway, if you want to know the joke about Custer's Last Stand, ask me. Sometimes I even remember how it goes. But it's one of the few I remember.

At one of my gas stops I talked to a guy who is a Goldwing rider. He was doing a lot of work for his job, packing stuff back and forth. I was behind him for a ways on the highway, but actually dropped back. Good thing. I had to skirt something lying in the road. There he was parked just up ahead, and walking back toward it. He just raised his hands at me, and shook his head. I waved and kept on moving, but was glad I'd not been following closely.

There is beautiful scenery along this highway, green hills, rugged mountains, some with snow, even some red rock.

As I rode the Chief Joseph Highway, I stopped at Dead Indian Pass, elevation 8,048. There's a really cool Indian cutout.

This is the road I was going down after I left Dead Indian Pass.

There are signs of lots of logging of dead trees. Trees in piles, some cut and ready to be loaded onto trucks and moved out. I navigated hairpin turns that years ago frightened me. Now, it's just do it, and enjoy it. I had also moved into the realm of open range and cattle that claimed the road from me. I wasn't nearly as bothered by them as the bison. How can you be afraid of a friendly-looking Bossie cow. And on I went up the hill.

Near Cooke City, located by the northeast entrance to Yellowstone National Park, I saw an elevation sign of 7,651 feet. I rode through glorious Shoshone and Gallatin National Forests, where trees cover the hillsides, green and fragrant.

I entered the park and saw bison … actually hundreds of them … alone and in herds. None of them were on the road claiming it this time. I stopped and took a couple of photos because I just couldn't resist more bison photos.

The funny one was seeing two bison in the water cooling off. I saw a few others laying near the rivers and creeks, and many who were laying claim to some of the same turf as fly fishermen.

Fly fisherman on the left by the river, and the buffalo lying on the dirt on the right.

I couldn't believe the number of fishermen … I don't remember seeing that before, but maybe it's just in the northern part of the park. I saw two Canada geese, and then leaving the park in Mammoth, there was a herd of cow elk on the grounds around all of the buildings. The park rangers were having quite a time trying to keep people at a distance from them. I did not stop. I was hot, worried about getting to Belgrade and had not stopped to eat, except for a couple of handfuls of almonds, so I was starving.



I pushed on, and got to Gardiner which is Highway 89. I kept going until I hit I-90, and headed west to the Harley Shop in Belgrade. It was combat riding at its best. The speed limit is 75 mph, I was going 80 and having trouble keeping up. But I kept out of the way and found the shop where I called Jan, who is now to be known as “Rider Chic” and let her know where I was.

Rider Chic showed up at the shop after I'd bought my prerequisite T-shirt and I followed her home. It was really nice to get off the bike at this point. I've done nearly 9,000 miles in less than a month, and I'm tired as I've ridden every day, no breaks. Waaaahh. But now it's over and I must leave the lovely Miss Scarlet behind. She will be safe as she is with a retired cop/ex-marine's family in their garage, safe and sound next to his Road King.

And with that, I am truly all in.