day one:
after spending a day with the grandparents, i left south dakota headed westward.
500 miles later after seeing broad fields of hay and sunflowers and fighting a harsh dry headwind, i came to rest in what appeared to be an abandoned montana state campground. a ”no campfire” order was in place, there was no running water, the sites were merely tractor-mowed, and there were some pretty rough looking outhouses. i was out of energy to keep going even for food or water so i put up my tent, ate some trailmix (thanks lisa) and a brownie (thanks nina) and drank most (but not quite all) of my thermos full of water.
the dry wind, sun and dust had left my face and lips chapped and my eye’s bloodshot and not even a creek was within walking distance.
i fell asleep at dusk with a hunting knife at my side (don’t ask why).
day two:
i awoke with the sun just coming up in the pine trees, drank the rest of my water and broke camp. the day looked promising as i headed to the nearby town to refuel and get a doughnut and orangejuice.
first i travelled through some burnt out areas of not too-forgotten forest fires.
in central montana i stopped for lunch before heading out into some rain and curvy mountain roads. the rain intensified and temperatures dropped as i ascended narrow asphalt roads through elevated pastureland.
teeth chattering i decided to stop to put on a warmer shirt thinking: ”i’m in the middle of nowhere, it’s raining, and i bet if i shut off this motorcycle it won’t start right back up.” sure enough, i got wet putting on the shirt, but felt temporarily good for the addition, but the bike did nothing when i pushed the starter button.
nothing. nothing again. a truck zipped past and i thought i might flag down the next passerby. a bmw motorcycle was coming down the road and i fiddled with a switch i knew to be occasionally problematic—- it started just as i was beginning to panic. off i rode.
miles later i’ve ascended through the main mountain pass and am two miles from the nearest town worrying that my fuel will run out. it does.
i coast down the long straight hill and the bmw rider comes by and rides with me until i hit the bottom of the hill and pull over.
i had been thinking that my tank did not have a crossover line to feed from its right lower side, so i pulled the tank off and sloshed what appeared to be about 1/4 gallon of fuel to the feed line on the left side. it started right up and i went the next mile to the gas station after thanking the rider for stopping.
day three:
much easier riding with plenty of fuel stops and good nights rest at a fully-accomodated campground (hot showers). saw roiling dust devils spinning upward spotting the planted fields like trees in eastern washington, wide open cut straw/wheat fields, beautiful lakes, rivers and steep tree-covered mountains.
descending a curvaceous mountain road, a bumblebee flew directly into my left sleeve. i began swatting and cursing, then quickly pulled to the shoulder as the bee kept stinging my forearm. it quit stinging as i stopped so i thought i might have killed it. as i attempted to shake the dead bee free from my sleeve, it calmly flew out and buzzed away. the stings left my forearm a bit swollen and strangely enough, the red area is in the silhouette of a duck.