Motorcycle Alabama

Wednesday afternoon, Sept. 23rd, I flew to Idaho to spend 3 days riding with Mill.

The 3 days far surpassed my expectations.

I will try to get back now-and-then over the next few days to do a proper ride report. Until then.....

Be jealous. Be very jealous.   ;)

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Back in late 2014 Mill announced he would be moving to Boise, Idaho. Truth be known, it wasn't a surprise to me. He is a very good friend and works in the same field I do (repairing diagnostic imaging equipment). I guess I figured it a privilege at the time to have had a number of conversations with him as he and we weighed the pros and cons of moving. I reckon it was not a decision to be made lightly and I was honored to have him think enough to share his process with me. Moving can be a big deal.

Not just moving, but moving to Boise, Idaho. That's a long way from Montgomery, Alabama.

Mill, being Mill, did his research and with an eye on a new adventure and knowing the seemingly unlimited offroad riding available in Idaho, he made the decision to make the move.

While I knew I would miss seeing him and riding with one of my good riding buddies, I believed it was a good thing for him - and told him so on several occasions. I'm not inclined to believe my opinion was a determining factor, but I am glad I can look back and think about his decision with a smile on my face.

And now I can think about it with an even bigger smile on my face.

In November 2014 we had a "Farewell Mill" day at Minooka. There was a hare scramble race that day and a bunch of us camped that night. Mill, again being Mill, went on a late night ride. He went solo.

I could have gone with him.

I didn't go with him.

I will always regret that decision. For no other reason than I have wished many times I had ridden with him that night. One last ride before he left. But I didn't.

But what I did do was tell Mill that I would visit Idaho. And we would ride there. It wasn't just an idle comment made in passing. The kind of thing you say, like "Yeah man, I'll come see you someday."  And then days become weeks and weeks become months and months become years, and then "someday" never comes. I said it, believing in my heart I would make good on the promise. I think that is how I viewed it: A promise. Even though I don't ever remember saying "I promise", I felt it in my heart.

I knew if I had moved to Idaho, I would be very happy to have one of my buddies come visit and ride with me. So, yeah, to me, I had made a promise and I had designs on making good on it.

Mill and I have talked many times since his move and earlier this year talk shifted gears to a more serious discussion about me planning a trip. He stumbled upon a Craigslist ad for a guy in Boise who rents Dualsport bikes.

Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!

A few phone calls and everything was arranged. I would have a KLR 650 ready and waiting. Mill would be on "El Burro", aka "DRonkey", his DR650 (one of the best bikes in the world).

I had my airline ticket bought a few months ago and then the only thing to do was wait.

And.... spend a lot of time looking at Google Earth and Garmin maps. Mill had decided to let me "plan my own ride" and that was a cool decision. By design, I waited to the last few days to dig into it all. I wanted the maps and such to be fresh on my mind. And so it was. I mapped out tracks for 3 days, looking at Google street maps and topo maps, and Garmin maps, with a focus on what looked to be good riding through a variety of good areas. By a combination of effort, blind luck and decisions made on the fly, we hit the jackpot.

And the jackpot machine jammed and kept on spitting out rewards.

Three days.

586 miles of dualsport riding.

Three days and 586 of the best miles I have ever spent on a dualsport bike.

I will go ahead and say it: next to Ecuador, I think Idaho ranks second in my book. At worst, it ties with Colorado for second.

But all-in-all, I think Idaho topped Colorado.



Me and Mill. November 2014.

The morning after I didn't ride with him the night before.

I was to make up for it in September 2015.


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As always, a great report.

Glad you made the trip. Memories like that stay with you.

With all my riding gear and some clean underwear and socks crammed in my suitcase and misc stuff in my backpack, and my helmet in a helmet bag, I headed for the airport Wednesday afternoon.

My flight was to leave at 2:45 and I was scheduled for an 11:45 pm arrival in Boise after connections in Atlanta and Minneapolis, Mn. Mill had arranged ahead of time to pick up my rental bike while I was flying to Boise so all we would have to do would be strap our bags on the bikes and hit the road.

My flight out of Atlanta had a mechanical delay, putting us about 30 minutes behind the time when we should have pushed back from the gate. This spelled trouble as I already had a close connection in Minneapolis. We were on a 757 from ATL to MSP and you board/exit those planes about 1/3 of the way back. My seat was THE closest seat to the door. When it opened at the gate in Minneapolis, I was first man out and made good time on the loonnggg walk to the departure gate. There were 7 others on the flight going to Boise and I reasoned that the flight we were to board would very likely terminate in Boise (which it did), so with no connection to make, they would delay departure a few minutes for us AND MY SUITCASE FULL OF RIDING GEAR to make the connection.

All of which took place. I sat down in my seat on the flight to Boise and a few minutes later I heard luggage being loaded below. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing me and my stuff would be in Boise on time.


Before leaving Bham I was sitting there wasting time when I looked at the seat where I had sat my backpack and helmet. I chuckled and took a cheesy cellphone pic and sent it to Mulley. It reminded me of the pic I took a year ago while we were sitting in the Atlanta airport (near the big flying ear of corn) waiting for our flight to Quito.

I was reminded how fortunate I am. Blessed beyond measure I would say.

In Boise I collected my suitcase from the big metal snail that crawls around and around in a circle with suitcases and boxes and stuff riding on its back. Outside in passenger pickup I called Mill on the cellphone. He was about 5 minutes from being there.

Mill rolled up and we tossed the suitcase in the back hatch and my helmet and backpack in the back seat and then it was a 15 minute ride to his house.

At his place we got our stuff pretty much arranged to load on the bikes the next morning and hit the sack around 1:30.

I slept on his couch. It was "lights out" kind of sleep.

The next morning, before I was awake, I heard some sound. Some strange sound. I was now 1/2 awake, or maybe just 1/3 awake, and I was trying to sort through things my ears were funneling to my brain. It took a minute but I figured out what it was.

It was The Police.

"Every Breath You Take" was playing kinda loud and a little distorted sounding on Mill's clock radio.
It was his alarm... for whatever THAT was worth.

The song ended and the morning radio personality started blabbing about something.

I swung my feet off the couch and made my way to Mill's bedroom door.

"Mill......Hey Mill...."

uh.... yeah...

"You dead or just sound asleep? That thing has been blaring for 5 minutes."

He had just been asleep, but was now awake. At least somewhat.

We made coffee and had breakfast. Then we loaded our gear on the bikes and hit the road right at 10:00 am



My ride for the 3 days and Mill feeding El Burro before we left Boise.

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Nail biting. Can't wait to read more!

Huh? What the heck? What's with this gear shift lever on the KLR?
It's about 2 inches from the peg and angled down too much.

I literally could not get my boot under it to shift. So, we turned around after buying gas and rode back the 3 blocks to Mill's house. 5 minutes later the gear shift lever had been adjusted and we were on the road.

The ride out of Boise took us along the north edge of the metro area for a right turn, headed north on Hiway 16. We picked up Hiway 52 in Emmet and rode along the north edge of Black Canyon Reservoir. Next came a left turn on to Sweet Ola Hiway.

Side note - I am reminded now of the trip me and Nessler and Glenn and Lincoln made to Daytona Beach in spring of 2014. We set out with a plan. But, plans are subject to change and the more one can take changes in stride, the better, and more smoothly (i.e. less stressful) things generally go.


For you must realize, I had already found myself engrossed in sightseeing and had blown past a left turn and realized it a few miles on down the road. I pulled to the side and explained my blunder to Mill. But, I spent 1 minute looking at my Garmin map and saw there were other roads that would suffice in getting us to our destination.

So we had options: go back and turn on original planned road or go just ahead and turn on a different road. The decision making process went something like this - as best I can recall....

Brian: "We can go up here and turn left and take a different route to McCall. 'Zat OK with you?"

Mill: "Yeah."

And that is how we found ourselves on the road that was taking us to Ola.  It wasn't necessarily with purpose that we were headed to Ola. Ola just happened to be on the road we were (now) riding, so by default, we were headed to Ola.

I think it was the first of many decisions made on-the-fly whereby we would be "Making our own good luck".

According to the interweb, Ola was established in July 1822 as a Post Office. There didn't seem to be much more in Ola in September 2015. Urban sprawl and rush hour traffic is not a problem.

We pulled to the side of the road in Ola. Had we stopped 100 yards earlier or 100 yards later, we'd have pretty much missed Ola.

So while there isn't much in Ola, what IS there is a cafe: The Ola Inn Cafe. And that is where we decided to eat lunch.

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It is an old building with uneven wood floors and other traits that let you know it has been there for quite a long while.

A husband and wife were working the cafe. Very friendly folks.
Two others beside Mill and I were there for lunch.

I ordered a hamburger - with all the trimmings - and it was incredible. Hand formed patty on a toasted bun. Best I could tell it had been cooked on a hot grill or in an iron skillet. I told Mill - and I was serious - I didn't want to finish eating it because it was so good. Oh man that was a good hamburger. And good fries too.

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I forget what Mill had, but whatever it was, I remember he enjoyed it.

For desert I had apple crisp with vanilla ice cream and Mill had homemade bread pudding with vanilla ice cream. The apple crisp was good but I think his bread pudding might be the best I have ever tasted.

All this awesome grub at this little cafe in the middle-of-nowhere Ola, Idaho. I had told Mill that I didn't want to spend a lot of time riding slow, difficult trails. I want to cover a lot of miles and see a lot of Idaho. I wanted to do what Mulley and I had done in Ecuador. Not just ride motorcycles, but EXPERIENCE things along the ride.

We were off to a good start.

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And, in keeping with our already established willingness to go with the flow and make new plans along the way, we drug out a map and looked at options for dirt Forest Service Roads that would avoid some of the asphalt that lay ahead.


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We made some notes of road numbers on a piece of paper, said "Thanks" again for the hospitality and great food (and I joked with the nice lady that Mill and I didn't have "an accent", SHE had the accent!). We left a good tip and got our gear on and hit the road.

It had been a wonderful stop. The kind of thing you get to experience when you get out and see things other than Exit signs, on ramps and off ramps, and overpasses.

Thanks Ola. Nice meeting you. Hope to see you again someday.

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We rode out of Ola, which took about 5 seconds to accomplish, headed northeast. About 1/4 mile out of town we turned right and left the asphalt.

Most of the rest of the day would be dirt.

The riding was good as was the scenery.

It was neat because there were plenty of good views, even though we were not riding through real rugged, high mountains.

Side note: I learned something about mountain ranges on this trip and in my reading once I got back home. The one big thing I learned is: There are a LOT of mountain ranges.

I tend to think of The Rocky Mountains as describing all the mountains in, well.... The Rocky Mountains. I had no idea how many individual ranges make up all that we know as The Rocky Mountains.  It's sort of like New York City. That's the name of the big place. But when you get inside NYC, there are many, many individual neighborhoods, each with its own name and boundaries, even if there is some bleed-over and the boundaries are not perfectly defined lines. That's the best comparison I can come up with to describe what it is like in the mountains in Idaho.

I can't say for certain but I think we rode in and around Seven Devils range and The West Mountains range. There is a big flat valley, and some smaller ones as well, that lie between the ranges (whichever those ranges actually happen to be) and we rode across those valleys. It was neat because we would be up in the mountains and look out across a valley to see more mountains in the distance. Then our ride would take us across the valley and up and across those mountains. It was really pretty and was a different kind of riding than what I had experienced in Colorado or in The Smokey Mountains.

There were farms and small communities - just clusters of a few houses mostly - and lots of open land.

Here's an example. This was taken while we were at elevation, but riding down out of one range. You can see another range in the distance. There is a big valley between the two.

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And here is another pic taken about 2/3 of the way across that valley.

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And here is a pic of Mill near a farm in that same valley.

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I share this pic because it looks strange to me. It looks like the KLR is way small (or I am way big). I don't know why but it looks like the human/motorcycle proportion is all messed up. At least it does to me.

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So we crossed the big valley and rode through more mountains. All the while, enjoying everything. It was a nice ride on nice dirt roads. Sometimes winding back and forth in the mountains and sometimes poker straight across the valley.

Every mile was a pleasure.

On we rode. Our next stop would be Council, Idaho.

Anxiously awaiting more....  8)

As usual Brian, I am enjoying your ride report. 

Tell us more.......................beautiful pics so far.

Thanks fellas!


The scenery and the riding continued to be the same for most of the rest of the afternoon. Dirt roads and valleys and mountains and the occasional small town.

We did take 1 or 2 brief sidetracks to hit a few miles of easy to moderate single track over the course of the day.

Our ride took us to the edge of the small town of Cambridge. It is there we stopped for this pic.

At the intersection of Bain and Mill, Cambridge, Idaho.


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And on we rode.

About 15 miles or so further into the day we rolled into Council. It was a neat little town. According to the internet, 1.03 sq miles with a population of 839 (as of 2010 census). Pretty much the same population as the 1960 census. I guess not many people want to leave and not many people want to move there.

We stopped to buy gas and have a snack.

After buying gas we rolled our bikes to the edge of the parking lot and sat there a few minutes, finishing off our snacks. Just a short distance down the road and on the opposite side of the road, the local middle school football team was practicing.

I watched them. Little kids running around doing football stuff while the coach blew his whistle. Not really any parents standing around watching and talking.

The sprinklers sprinkled the field while the kids practiced. That seemed kinda odd, but I guess it worked because the grass was really green.

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I like seeing stuff like this. I asked Mill "Wonder what it's like to be a coach for the middle school team in Council, Idaho?" There wasn't another team in town to play. I guess they traveled to Cambridge and other little towns nearby.

I commented to Mill that I often think about how people live and work and play. To the coach and those kids (and presumably their parents) their efforts and the payoff (winning) was probably pretty important to them. Yet outside of a very small area, nobody else in the world even knows they, or Council, Idaho even exists. Heck, I'll bet 99.9999999999% of the people on earth have never heard of Council.

And a far, far fewer number have ever sat on a motorcycle and watched the middle school team practice.

But, on the flip side of the coin, they didn't know I existed and I'd bet a dollar to a penny, not one person in Council has ever heard of Moody, Al.

So, I guess we'll call it even.

I joked with Mill we ought to slow down near the fence as we rode off and yell "Quit football!!  Ride a motorcycle!!"

But, we didn't do that. We just put on our helmets and gloves, zipped our jackets, pulled out of the filling station lot, turned right and rode off.

We had hit asphalt before we got to Council and would stay on asphalt until we finished the day in McCall.

Just more boring stuff......


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McCall, Idaho. Now THERE is proper town!

Pretty swanky place. On the shore of Payette Lake. Lot's of small vacation cabin rental places and homes on the edge of the lake.  Lots of boats too. Power boats and sail boats.

From the interweb: Payette Lake is a 5,330 acre expanse of clean, glacial water at an elevation of about 5,000 feet in the mountains of Idaho. Over 10,000 years ago Payette Lake was carved out by a glacier 1,000 ft high, 2.5 miles wide and 8 miles long. At its deepest point the lake is 392 ft deep.

Interesting factoid: McCall is known for having the highest annual snowfall in Idaho. I did a quick bit of research and found: average annual snowfall = 135 inches.

For comparison, Buffalo New York averages 94 inches of snow per year. So, I guess McCall gets a LOT of snow.

We putted down the road and pulled over to decide where would spend the night. We both had camping gear but our first choice would be four walls and a roof. There was a state park nearby. Ponderosa State Park.

We pulled up their website on Mill's phone and it showed cabins for rent, with some available, so we rode to the state park. The office was closed and nobody around to take our money and give us a key. We were both a bit puzzled. It wasn't late. Maybe 5:00 or 6:00 o'clock.

Oh well. No cabin for us. We rode back into town and stopped at the Scandia Inn.
Pretty nice place.
Pretty good rates.
And that is where we would spend the night.

Across the street from The Scandia Inn was another hotel. And this was going on in the parking lot.

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We unloaded our gear and changed clothes. We walked a block down the road and decided on dinner at Growler Pizza Grill. It was a nice little sports bar type grill. The food was a lot better than either of us had expected.

After dinner we plodded our fat bellies the block back to the hotel then flopped on the bed and watched some TV. Mill and I both laughed. The TV was an old CRT type that made a "thunk" sound when you turned it on and the high voltage power supply came on to make the electrons fly through the vacuum inside the CRT and splat against the phosphorescent coating on the inside of the thick glass.

It had been a fine first day. The scenery had been great and the riding too.
I had stuffed my belly with one of the best hamburgers I could remember, then stuffed it again with chili cheese fries and a Turkey Club at dinner.

Garmin says we rode 189 miles and reached a maximum elevation of 6,116 feet.

My eyelids were real heavy and I feel asleep pretty quickly, having no idea how much better tomorrow was going to be.

One last thing for day one.

I'm not certain but I am pretty sure it is a pic of the inside of my Klim pants pocket.

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I love reading trip reports of any type.

I always appreciate the fact that someone takes the time to take a picture and write up a few words, even for a trip around the neighborhood.  It helps to share the experience and always encourages riding.

But then there are the trip reports that you just KNOW are going to be epic.

Yours are always those type of reports that one eagerly awaits like a kid getting this month's superhero comic issue.

So count me in as one who loves to read your adventures and am even willing to forgive you for suckering me in with this bit:

Quote from: Brian A on September 28, 2015, 11:15:32 PM

The next morning, before I was awake, I heard some sound. Some strange sound. I was now 1/2 awake, or maybe just 1/3 awake, and I was trying to sort through things my ears were funneling to my brain. It took a minute but I figured out what it was.

It was The Police.

Thanks much for the kind words.

I have been out of town a few days with work stuff so no recent update to the ride report. I hope to remedy that tonight.

Back in the ride report saddle now and as I think about starting Day Two I realize I skipped a few pics from Day 1.

So........

Somewhere along the way, I believe it was as we got close to Cambridge, we stopped on the side of the road so I could replace my GPS batteries.

The roads were dirt. Really dry dirt.
Really dry dusty dirt.

Bad dust.

Mill took his helmet and goggles off and I busted out laughing.


Bad dust. Really bad dust.

Here, see for yourself.

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(You don't get stuff like this on the interstate.)

Friday morning. Day Two.

Idaho is on Mountain Time so that put my body clock an hour ahead of the local time. I had slept great and woke up about 6:30 local time. Mill was still sound asleep.

I got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. The little sliding window in the bathroom had been left cracked overnight and the bathroom was pretty cool. (temps outside were somewhere in the upper 30's or so.)

I turned the knob that made the bathroom heater come on.

It was an old, resistive type baseboard heater. It heated by convection. No fans or blowers or anything. It made hot air and the hot air would rise and circulate. The heater made a few tinkling sounds as the little metal fins woke up.

I stood there for a minute or two in my shorts, waiting for the heat to begin to drift up. There is something about it that I enjoy. Being cold and hovering around whatever heat source it is, waiting to feel the warmth. Especially so when it is an old, simple heater like the ones in the hotel room and the bathroom. The warm air doesn't come from some machine in the attic or in the basement, forced through a pipe to then blow out of a hole in the wall with a louvered vent over it.

No. This heat come from that thing "right there". That old row of metal fins that got hot and in turn made me warm. Yeah. I liked that.

The tinkling and popping had stopped and the warm air was rising now. The bathroom began to warm up.

I showered, dried off, put on fresh undies and socks, then went to wake Mill.

Once Mill had showered we got our gear on and loaded the bikes. It would definitely be a cool start to the day but the sky was clear blue and we knew it would warm to be a great day.

We rode a mile or so down the road and stopped at a hardware store so I could buy some 'just-in-case batteries" for my SPOT tracker and my Garmin GPS.

Next stop was a mile or so later for breakfast. We stopped at The Alpine Pantry.
I was an organic/eco-friendly/"hippy"(?) type place. But, the folks were real nice and the food was good.

Outside in the parking lot I walked across the side street to look at the dam for Payette Lake. It sure was a small dam. Looked like something you'd see on stream, holding back a pond, not a dam for a big lake like Payette Lake. I thought I took a picture but I don't find one. So I'll resort to Google. (below)

After breakfast we backtracked past the hardware store and past the Scandia Inn and headed due east out of McCall on Lick Creek Road.

Just a mile out of town we were in the forest and riding along the north shore of Little Payette Lake. There wasn't much water in the lake. At least from what we could see. I don't know if it a seasonal thing or drought related or what, but the water was waaayyy away from the lake bank.

There were thousands and thousands (and then more thousands) of dead trees lining the bank in all directions, and countless stumps in the areas that would have been shallow water had the lake been at full pool.

We stopped for a few pics.


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Soon after we pulled away from Little Payette Lake we would ride into what was to be - by far- the best stuff I had seen in Idaho. And some of the best stuff I have seen anywhere outside of Ecuador. 

Fun roads through beautiful mountain views in beautiful forests.

I think a lot of it was due to the fact that what I had routed I thought was National Forest Road 104, was in fact National Forest PACK TRAIL 104. It was for horses and hikers. Not two guys on motorcycles. So..... a few minutes looking at the Garmin and a new route was decided on. It turned out to be another case of "Making our own good luck."

And by golly, we were making some serious good luck.


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The pic in the post above - with Mill and I squatting in front of our bikes - was our first "scenic stop" of the day.

The scenery had turned dramatically different after just a few miles of riding. After we left the north shore of Little Payette lake, our FS road turned north and in no time at all we were in beautiful forest and mountains. It was really pretty stuff. The road cut right through the forest, with tall Fir trees lining the road on both sides.

The sun had warmed the air up nicely but in the shadows it was still cool. Every now and then you could smell the forest. What a great way to be spending a day-in-the-life!

The mountains were, for lack of a better way of describing it, real "close". You could see them from what felt like an up-close-and-personal distance. You could see many of the small scale features that are often lost to distance. You could see the rocks and the trees and the bushes that all served to make up the unique character of every individual peak.

We were in the Payette National Forest and I was loving it.

The Payette national Forest covers 2.3 million acres and makes up the largest component of the Frank Church - River of No Return Wilderness Area, which is the second largest wilderness area outside of Alaska. The Payette sits on top of the Idaho Batholith - the largest body of granite rock in the US.

The Payette National Forest ain't no slouch. It is quite legit.

So back to our first stop seen in the pic.... it was there I looked at my GPS and realized we had passed (what I thought was) our right turn. I was a bit puzzled because I knew I had not passed a right turn. In any event, we headed back from whence we had come and low-and-behold I was correct. We had not passed a right turn. What we had passed was the starting point of the hiking/horse trail that I had routed as if it were a FS road.

Ok, time to make some good luck.

In a minute or so a new route was identified and displayed on my GPS and we turned our bikes to head back down the road, past our first stop and on to what was to be some spectacular stuff.


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It was inevitable and unavoidable that I would make the comparison to Colorado. I guess the same would be the case for anybody who had been fortunate enough to ride a week in the Colorado mountains then follow that up a month later with 3 days in Idaho.

About 4 miles or so after leaving the trail-that-isn't-a-road, we pulled over for some pictures.

I am pretty sure it was at that stop that I made my first real, conscious comparison and brought it up for discussion.

I explained to Mill...... I have, for a very long time, been fascinated by places like this. Very rocky (granite) mountains with trees and bushes and the like, growing right up amongst all the rocks. Places of extreme contrast: The hard, heavy, massive, impressive rocks and boulders and peaks of granite infiltrated by Fir trees and flowers and grass and bushes and the occasional mountain lake.
It wasn't the forest.
It wasn't just rough, rocky mountain slopes and peaks.
It was the forest growing in and on the rough, rocky mountains.

Like grass that somehow manages to take hold and grow in a crack in the concrete in the middle of the road, the trees and flowers and grass and bushes had taken purchase and grew in what appeared to be nothing but fields of granite.

For me, these places always seemed to have been viewed from a distance. Pretty, very pretty to LOOK AT, but I had never had the chance to BE IN IT.

Until that morning.

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It was one of my favorite stops during my 3 days in Idaho. We walked out onto/into the rocks and trees. Maybe 50 -75 yards, just enough to get away from the road and to be more "in the middle" of it all and take some more pictures.

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(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/718/21766247706_3caaab4d4f_k.jpg)


It was during our discussion, when I was comparing and contrasting Idaho with Colorado, that I used the word that was the best word I could come up with to describe how it was riding in these mountains -vs- Colorado mountains: Intimate.

It is hard to describe and hard to explain, but riding in Idaho already had the feeling of being more intimate. I just felt closer to everything. The views so far had not been as vast and the mountains as massive as what Colorado had provided. Idaho felt more..... intimate. I felt closer to everything. I could see it all better and could touch some of it better. I could smell it better. It felt warmer. More inviting.

If Colorado was the famous, expensive restaurant, that served a $30 burger on a fancy plate with waffle cut fries and craft ketchup, and a high dollar beer in a frosty mug, then Idaho was the Ola Inn Cafe.
Creaky wood floors and a $5.25 burger that trumped the fancy burger, with regular fries (with a bit of peel left on them) and ketchup in a squirt bottle that went "pssttt-puf-puf-puf" when you squeezed it to squirt ketchup into the basket with a wax paper liner, and a canned Coke poured over ice in a plastic tumbler.
(Maybe one of the best kept secrets when it comes to an outstanding burger.)

They're both burgers and the extras. And, they are both good. It's just a matter of which you prefer.

On that morning, I was preferring the Ola Inn Cafe approach.

I was preferring the intimacy that was Idaho.
(Maybe one of the best kept secrets when it comes to outstanding dualsport riding.)

Having spent time riding both Idaho and Colorado. Brian nailed the comparison. Oh, and Idaho is far more desolate and spread out.

Great report. I'm finished with the burger, what's for dessert?

Thanks Mulley.

Even though it was just three days, there' still a lot more to come.

Oh yeah. Video too.  ;)

Oh yeah...one more thing. Mulley is right. Idaho is in fact, in many areas, an extremely desolate place. We rode 10 miles short of 600 miles and didn't put even a minor dent it covering the state.

I had not realized prior to planning and then being there and riding, just how much wilderness is in Idaho.

You could easily get very far away from anything, and that "anything" might not amount to much. And gas stops/range could be a major factor (read: problem) if you did not plan well. I doubt there are many places you could go in Alabama and not be within 50 miles of a gas station.

I suspect it would be pretty easy in Idaho to find many areas where there is no gas within 100 - 150 miles, and likely a lot further in many areas.

Mill and I spent a few minutes there discussing Idaho.

I thought then, and still do, it is a remarkably overlooked state. The only reason I knew much of anything about it ahead of time, other than potatoes and much of Napoleon Dynamite was filmed there (Preston, Idaho), I knew because of reading and talking about dualsport riding.

You never hear a family say "We're going to IDAHO for vacation!" Well, maybe some have heard that, but I never have. It's a shame really. It's a beautiful state with more outdoors stuff to see and do than you can shake a stick at.


I knew from keeping in touch with Mill since his move, there is an untold number of miles of very, very difficult single track in Idaho. But, as I mentioned earlier, this ride wasn't about that. This was 3 days of covering miles and seeing as much as I could see in 3 days. We did take the occasional detour to hit a few miles of single track or double track, and some roads we chose over the 3 days were really pretty challenging. Rocky and steep and fun! But, the vast majority of our riding could have been accomplished in a decent pickup truck. It would not have been NEARLY as much fun, but it would still be some beautiful scenery to take in.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/681/21780599142_9b22a4a6f7_k.jpg)

Our ride took us across a mountain ridge and down the side of a long stretch of mountains on our left, with another on our right. The road gave us spectacular views all the way down the canyon. It was a miles-long ride and every mile was spectacular. This was - once again - Idaho at its intimate best. We were not viewing from a great distance, taking in vast, majestic vistas. We were right there in it. Everything - rocks, trees, mountains, bushes - encroached on the road, as if you could have stopped the bike, gotten off and within a few minutes walk, be climbing (or trying to climb!) one of the mountains.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/590/21766245056_5c8be75fb1_k.jpg)

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/656/21500983194_3c58e80c3d_k.jpg)


Before our lunch stop we rode through one of many areas we would visit that had suffered devastating forest fires in recent years. By recent, I'd say with the last 5-15 years. Several of the these burned areas we huge. Tens of thousands of acres and some up to hundreds of thousands of acres.

I was awed by the beauty. Thousands upon thousands of dead tree trunks, with gnarly branches still jutting out here and there, stood as charred, black witness to the infernos that had raged there at one time. But - and it is a significant 'but' - nature had shifted into overdrive and the forest was running wide open regenerating itself. Everywhere you looked the ground was covered in new growth. Trees and bushes and flowers and grasses, everywhere.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5698/21801814691_b249797cf9_k.jpg)


It made me think again, as I have thought in the past, I am not convinced wildfires are always the devastating force of nature we "feel" they are. We see the fires raging on the TV, and see the pics of the smoke enveloping towns, and sadly the loss of life and property that can result, but after all is said and done, it really is just nature running its course. We tend to think/feel it is a horrific loss because we see all the beautiful trees being burned to a crisp and know of the loss of wildlife as well. So, I guess on some level it is a horrible thing. But nature has little regard for our views of what is good and what is bad. When I saw the floor of the forest of burned trees covered in new growth, I had to accept that nature was quite capable of taking care of itself.
New trees were everywhere. Not all of them would make it to adulthood and for those that did, there was a reasonable chance that someday they might suffer the same fate as their parents and grandparents. And then it would be the next generation's chance to have a go at it.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/739/21604303520_a6bf5ba3ac_k.jpg)


This is a pic Mill took. I am inside the little red circle.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5836/22098159656_b9835bf6a1_k.jpg)


See, I told you so!

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5781/21501503344_82525952d9.jpg)


Back on the road. Our route had meandered a little more north from our first stops, then turned east for a few miles, then south for a good ride along the banks of The South Fork of the Little Salmon River. It was all great.

A road sign I doubt we'll ever see in Alabama.
South Fork of the Little Salmon River.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/712/21801829731_ba08d51efe_k.jpg)

We stopped for a break at a little roadside information stand thing. One of those big boards with a little slanted roof over it, protecting a display of maps and info about the area. We had been riding in areas with lots of Ponderosa Pines. Beautiful, stately trees.


(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5827/21604348670_ecdf5bd943_k.jpg)


It was at this stop that we decided to take a turn to the right, as it seemed to offer a nice alternate to the road we were on, and would tie in to the same road further on down the way. We hadn't gone far when came across another option, so we took it. We left the road fora nice ride out through the forest and mountains on a doubletrack trail. We stopped a few times to take some photos. It sure was a pretty area.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5735/21604317430_1dda11b770_z.jpg)

The trail ran for about 8-10 miles and then dumped us out back on the road. We motored on.

Lots of hours of daylight remained and we were to make the best of them.

An excellent report as always Brian. Your insights make a great read and your pics capture your words. Good stuff.

So where did the KLR come from?

Quote from: Ryanbroome on October 14, 2015, 08:34:57 AM
So where did the KLR come from?

My carry on bag. I am a very efficient packer!

Srsly, Mill ran across an ad on Boise Craigslist. A guy runs a small scale rental business out of his home garage. I contacted him and arrangements were easily made. I think it was $90/day and the bike was in very good shape.

Thanks. This is getting me interested in doing something similar with the wife. I may need that info one day.

Carry on

Since Ryan broached the subject, I guess now is as good a time as any to share a discussion Mill and I had. Maybe especially so as the discussion took place at the stop we had just left - the one with the map and display info, where I took the picture of the Ponderosa Pine.

It was there that I mentioned to Mill my thoughts involving my disappointment (for lack of a better word) that more people don't get out and experience what we were experiencing and see the stuff we were seeing. Admittedly, at that time I was struck by the beauty of Idaho, but the same could be said for Colorado and many other places.

All of us here, as motorcyclist, share some degree of "adventurous spirit". Or so it would seem to me.

We are willing -indeed often eager - to forgo the comfort of the confines of a car or truck or SUV, in favor of the excitement and rewards we experience on two wheels. The risks are often greater and conveniences often not nearly as accessible. But the rewards, to us, outweigh all others and we find a great sense of satisfaction and contentment when we are on a motorcycle.

The adventurous spirit runs strong in some. A powerful river that pushes hard.
In others, it is not as strong. A gentle stream ridden to relax and find an escape.

So yeah, regardless of the power, I believe that adventurous spirit lives inside all of us who ride.

And that is what I brought up to Mill. I wish more could find a way to do what we were doing. I realize that many who might otherwise do so have families and obligations that would make such an "adventure" a real challenge to arrange. And in many cases, given the financial obligations of life, the ability to afford such could be a real challenge.

But the rewards are many if one can manage it.

For the record, the entire trip (Air fare, bike rental, hotels, food, misc.) cost me about $1,500.00


We have a large number of folks here at BamaRides who ride a lot and have done some awesome stuff over the years. But, maybe there is one who thinks about doing something a bit more. Something outside the bounds they have drawn for themselves. Something more adventurous.

About 3 or 4 years ago, one picture was THE spark that lit the fire for me. It was Donovan "riding" the alien mailbox in Nevada. That pic flipped my switch and I knew I had to get about the business of "going".

While I am NOT presumptuous enough to think that I will do the same for others, I hold out the hope that I might, someday, do the same for at least one somebody. In fact, it is with some humility that I wonder..... Maybe one segment of a ride report will "click" with somebody who reads it and they make the decision to start planning and arranging.

Maybe one pic will be the one that flips someone's switch and then they get about the business of "going".

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The stop did not come until later on in the day, but the pictures that resulted are some of my favorites I have ever taken while out riding. They rival some of my favorites from Ecuador.

The story will come later, but for now, I'll share the pic.

This picture, even now, gives me goose bumps when I look at it. Like the pic of me standing on my bike on that mountain in Ecuador, it captures, in a fraction of a second, an image that sums up all that words would fail to deliver.

There is no way to be there and do it, unless you are there and doing it.

And when you are, it is the best thing in the world.

Mill. In Idaho.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/655/21177521084_db5fd95084_k.jpg)

For the record - if you want to ask or discuss anything about the Colorado trip, or the Idaho trip, or even the Ecuador trip, do not hesitate to send me a PM.

And since I rode Colorado and Ecuador with Mulley, I'd bet he would say the same.

(http://i756.photobucket.com/albums/xx202/KrisCook/I%20ride%20that%20bitch_zpstcm9b5xp.jpg) (http://s756.photobucket.com/user/KrisCook/media/I%20ride%20that%20bitch_zpstcm9b5xp.jpg.html)

BINGO !!

That's the one that did it for me.  My initial desire had been to ride there and do the same thing. But plans morphed and there have been some great rides instead.  Maybe one day, but things are getting penciled in for 2016 and it's not in the cards for next year.

Thanks Kris.

One more thing: When we left the roadside info stand and soon thereafter turned left onto the doubletrack trail that ran about 8-10 miles through the forest and mountains..... here is a Google screenshot, just to give an idea how great the area is.

Red is the info stand.
Yellow highlight is the doubletrack trail.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/615/21548045974_23737809bb_h.jpg)

Brian, Thank you for putting in the time and effort to start adding back to what made bamarides great.

This thread has sparked an idea. I won't muddle up your thread, but know it's great threads like this that adds to why I'll do everything possible to keep bamarides going.

Quote from: jrobinson on October 14, 2015, 06:13:17 PM
Brian, Thank you for putting in the time and effort to start adding back to what made bamarides great.

No problem JR. It's a labor of love. Always has been. Always will be.
The greatest reward is if folks enjoy what I throw together.

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The doubletrack trail had been really good. Nothing too difficult but plenty fun enough to have made it a great diversion. The scenery was wonderful. Even though the roads we had been riding provided lots of "close encounters" with the forests and the mountains, the doubletrack had really let us be smack in the middle of it (reference Google screenshot above).

After the doubletrack we hit asphalt. Our ride took us down out of the mountains into some flat terrain and more areas that had seen forest fire at some time in the fairly recent past. And as before, new growth was abundant.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5822/22155351856_2d2ee8c367_k.jpg)

And on we rode. On to our lunch stop at Warm Lake.

Warm Lake is the largest natural lake in the Boise National Forest. It is a 640 acre lake at an altitude of 5,300 feet. There is camping there and some cabins to rent. I imagine it would be a nice place to spend a few days. We would spend about an hour there.

Mill and I bought a Coke and a snack at the store at the little lodge office place and sat at a picnic table behind it, looking out over the lake. Soon enough two guys sat down to join us. They were from Washington state and were on a week long ride through Idaho, then back home. They each rode a DRZ 400 and they had them loaded like they were off to the tip of South America. I have to give them credit, they had their act together and every means of stowage was utilized.

I noticed and asked and they confirmed: They didn't use GPS. Just maps and notes on paper. Truth is, that would work just fine (and did for them) since Idaho has fantastic maps for all the Forest Service roads and trails. But, I enjoy using the GPS with maps as an adjunct. Mill and I did use maps from time-to-time to get a better big picture view of where we were and where we wanted to go.

The Washington guys' rides.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5622/21994675869_4c05aab8f8_k.jpg)

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/714/21993763908_fd69868830_k.jpg)

With our Cokes and snacks in our bellies, we said good bye to the Washington guys and left Warm Lake.

Our afternoon ride took us through many high meadows. Pretty places. Very serene and peaceful looking. I kept looking to see a deer or something, but I never did.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/629/22191845151_7662ba760e_k.jpg)

Somewhere along the way were found ourselves back on dirt. We ran across an old, abandoned mining community. I reckon it was gold they sought. I always wonder how folks decided that THIS is the spot I want to start digging into a big wall of granite and look for me some gold!

However it was decided, they had a go at it and either found enough gold to pack up and leave, or didn't find enough so they packed up and left.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/623/22182112485_335fbc1c93_k.jpg)


(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5771/21792337415_c28c151723_k.jpg)


We rode though an area that I believe had seen decimation due to beetles. But, as was the case in the areas that had seen fire, nature was busy with the business of growing stuff to replace that which nature had seen fit to do away with.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5754/22191883431_1d24ff7431_z.jpg)

The afternoon and the ride wore on and we were back on blacktop, headed in the direction of Stanley, which was to be our stop for the evening.

We pulled off at a roadside stop to take a break. The views were fantastic.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/718/21993848288_fca65cd085_k.jpg)


Behold the Sawtooth Mountains.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5628/21605146989_19622b4ba6_k.jpg)


(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5754/21995502369_ec98a57047_k.jpg)

We pulled out of the rest area and pointed the front wheels towards Stanley. But prior to leaving we had thought... "Hey. Plenty of daylight left and we are just an hour from Stanley. Let's take a dirt road somewhere."

And so we did.

A few miles down the asphalt we turned left and meandered along a series of dirt roads that took us across a big field before returning us to the woods and some hills.

It was in this big field that we stopped for a few photos. I set up my camera on Mill's little twisty tripod thing and we took a few pictures. They are the ones which you have already seen. I'll share one more.

Just because you can never have too much awesomeness.


(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5820/21169608164_4d90e280a7_k.jpg)

We pulled away from that stop and soon stopped again for another photo.

Did I mention Idaho is an incredibly beautiful state?

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/573/21780574782_36486bc90c_k.jpg)

more to come....

We enjoy it greatly!

That last picture is by far the best I've seen. Also, thanks for the great story!

Appreciate the photos and report, Brian.  It's also enjoyable reading your stuff.

Great visuals and reading...and thanks for sharing.

That is a remarkable camera.  I think I asked the same question on the old Ecuador report....Is that a point-n-shoot or an SLR?
Those are some of the sharpest images I've ever seen without some post-processing.

Quote from: kdtrull on October 15, 2015, 06:22:41 PM
Great visuals and reading...and thanks for sharing.

That is a remarkable camera.  I think I asked the same question on the old Ecuador report....Is that a point-n-shoot or an SLR?
Those are some of the sharpest images I've ever seen without some post-processing.

Thanks kind sir. It is a Fuji XP 65 from Walmart. I don't think they sell that same model any more.

And in the interest of full disclosure, most of the pics are tweaked a little. Mostly to deal with the difficulty digital cameras have with burn out. It varies a little from pic to pic, but in general the brightness/highlights is what needs addressing the most.

Other variables are massaged as needed. I try hard not to change the image to make it look significantly different from what was reality. My goal is to create a pretty picture, not a fake picture.

All-in-all, it does a good job for what was IIRC, about a $120 camera.

Fake pictures are nice too, sometimes...

(http://i1136.photobucket.com/albums/n496/gharshman/mill_zpsuhkmqqph.jpg)

Yep. I play around some as well.

About the furthest I stray from reality with what I share in RR threads, (and it's obvious when I do) is when I shoot a few pics using one of the built in filters in the camera. And then, I share those mostly just for a change of pace.

Great as always Brian. When does your book get published?

The view at our stop beside the old wooden fence was great. The weather was perfect, the air was crystal clear and every direction was something worth pausing a minute to enjoy.

We headed on down the dirt road and made a turn or two to insure we would wind up heading towards Stanley. It wasn't too far along the way that we ran across a single track trail. I looked on my Garmin GPS and was more than a little surprised to see it showed up there. A quick check indicated the trail would dump out back on the road, 3 or 4 miles from where we sat.

I guess it goes without saying we took the single track trail. It was really fun.

We rode through another area that had burned. This was a smaller area and didn't seem to have been fully consumed by fire. We paused for a picture. Mill took this one of me.

The obligatory "flipping him off" picture.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5761/22261464925_771bbd5d23_k.jpg)

A mile or two later the trail ran into an open area and we started a small decent that would lead us back to the dirt road we had left a few miles back.

Another picture Mill took of me.

(https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5784/22073384260_434663aa0b_k.jpg)

Back on the dirt road we motored on until we were dumped out onto asphalt again. We turned left for the short ride on into Stanley.

When we got to Stanley we pulled into a gas station to fill up. There were two guys there on big farkled out BMW GS. They asked if we had seen another rider anywhere along our way, maybe even stopped on the side of the road with a flat tire.

From what we could gather they had been with two other guys. One of them had managed to get a flat tire. The other non-present rider left to go get.............. are you ready for this?

A can of Fix-A-Flat.

Apparently all the farkles didn't include a way to plug a tire (I believe the GS uses tubeless tires) or fix/replace a tube if a tube was involved. We never understood how the two of them showed up at the gas station, one guy was on a search for Fix-A-Flat and the other poor soul was somewhere, alone, with a flat. I have to assume that eventually they all got hooked up together as I have never heard anything about a missing motorcycle rider, somewhere near Stanley, Idaho.

We got a room at a hotel and ate dinner in the attached restaurant.

Back in the hotel room we considered options for the next day.

Our final day.

I had two or three options already loaded on my GPS and we used those to create a new route that seemed to suit our fancy.

With plans settled on we hit the sack. Another good day of riding was not more than 12 hours away.

The view at dusk from our hotel.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/586/22249314222_b4ed52c25c_k.jpg)[/url]

Before we get to day 3, a short break to talk about...............


The Sawtooth Mountains.

Back in the early to mid 80's, while I was in school at The U of A, I watched The Today Show. I always enjoyed Willard Scott. He seemed a likable fella and just a general all-around nice guy.

To this day I have always remembered in the winter time, when Willard was going over the weather for the day, he would often mention the Sawtooth Mountains (along with The Bitteroots). 

Something about the name........ "The Sawtooths". It just created a mental picture in my head. I imagined, and probably even romanticized to some extent, what The Sawtooths would look like. Looking back now, I think maybe there was something of a dormant fascination with The Sawtooth Mountains. Nothing powerful enough to have ever driven me to make it a point to go see them, but something there. A little spark, just hoping maybe to get fanned into a flame one day?

I never remember knowing exactly where The Sawtooths were.

Just knew they were somewhere out west.

In the Rockies.

Somewhere.

While planning the trip to Idaho I never gave any thought to The Sawtooths. But once I got there it occurred to me that we might just be near enough I would get to see them.

Turns out we were and I did.

The Sawtooth Mountains cover an area of approximately 680 square miles. There are 57 peaks above 10,000 feet, with the highest being Thompson Peak at 10,751 feet. They were formed from two large bodies (batholiths) of granite: The Sawtooth batholith to the north and the Idaho batholith to the South. Their irregular, jagged, sharp peaks are beautiful and certainly merit the name:

The Sawtooth Mountains.

(https://farm1.staticflickr.com/779/21604033140_0edc925d99_k.jpg)

If it is possible to have a Bucket List item that you don't even know is a Bucket List item, then The Sawtooths would be at the top of that list for me.

I'll put a check mark by them either way.


if you have any interest here are two websites to check out: 
http://www.sawtoothcamera.com/   (explore the links to the camera and slideshows)
http://idahoptv.org/productions/idahoportrait/about/geology.html

Awesome stuff, as always.

Saturday morning. Not sure of the exact time but it was just about sunrise.
That's when I woke up. I was balled up under the covers and all was right in the world.

But all would be more righter whenever we got on the road. That said, no reason to get in a hurry and rush to be pulling out of the parking lot. FWIW......

I.
HATE.
BEING.
RUSHED.

I understand there are times when rushing is necessary. Say for example you were camping in a deep gorge along a river and got word of torrential rains miles upriver and a major flash flood was heading your way. Well, that would be a good time to rush.
By all means.
Rush.
Hurry.
Get your crap together and get out of there.

But for me, being on a trip like Idaho or Colorado or Ecuador or Arkansas or Tellico Plains or Daytona Beach, or pretty much every trip I go on, those are NOT the times for rushing.

When I rush for no good reason (no flash flood, or something of similar peril) two things happen:

a) I rush. I get aggravated because I'm rushing. And I break my routine and stuff gets crammed in oddball places. And when I reach for something where it should be sometime later on that day, only to find it's not there, I get aggravated (again) because I had to rush.

b) I miss stuff. Rushing is the death knell of noticing and appreciating the little things. (Things like the old heater in the bathroom at the hotel we stayed in the first night.) I try to make a conscious effort - when I find myself fortunate enough to be in a place like Idaho, riding a dualsport motorcycle with a great friend or friends - to take notice of it all. To slow down. To look for and notice and remember the little things. And the big things too.

Yeah. I definitely hate rushing.

So on that Saturday morning, as snug as I was in the bed and under the covers, I decided to get up.

And not rush.

I made a cup of coffee in the little min-size coffee maker. Then, with coffee in hand, I went outside in my shorts and t-shirt.
It was pretty cold. There were two guys already out and about and they had on coats and long pants, and one had a boggin on his head. I stood there in my shorts and T-shirt. And enjoyed my cup of coffee for a few minutes.

Loving every minute of it.

It sprinkled a few drops of rain but the clouds were scattered and it was obvious the few raindrops were just in passing. No need to worry. It was going to be a fine day.

Soon enough (but without rushing) Mill and I had showered and packed our gear up, enjoyed some more hotel-room coffee, and were ready to go. We decided to eat breakfast in the hotel restaurant, where we had dinner the night before. Breakfast turned out to be better than dinner. It wasn't that dinner had not been good. It had been good. But breakfast was better.

We straddle the bikes, thumbed the starter buttons and hit the road for Day 3.

We pulled out of the parking lot, turned left on Highway 21 and pretty much immediately rolled to a stop at the T-intersection with Highway 75.

We turned left.

The speedometers found home at about 55 mph. The air was cold.

My face got cold. My lips got cold and I could tell if I had tried to talk my mouth would have moved in funny ways, not exactly following the motor commands by brain fired off in the direction of my lips.

I snickered at myself.

And sped up a little.

Highway 75 followed every twist and turn of The Salmon River. The river was on our right.

We would ride along the river for about 10 miles before turning.

It was a beautiful morning. The clouds had pretty much lost the battle with the sun. The sky was essentially clear and the temperature was inching its way up.

We turned left onto Yankee Fork Road, which roughly followed the Yankee Fork River. It was a fine dirt road. Well groomed and maintained.

We had ridden just a few miles when we passed a big information board thing on the side of the road. About 100 yards past it I hit the brakes.

Don't rush.

Don't miss the little things.

We turned around and went back.

At the info stand we read about the Yankee Fork area. Good information that would provide some answers to questions that would come withing the next 1/4 mile. But, they were answers that didn't really make sense to Mill and I until later on in the day.

Duly educated, we continued on our way.

River rocks. Holy cow at the piles of river rocks. Not just piles, but huge piles.
Tons and tons sized piles of rocks.
One after another after another after another after another, and on and on it went. All along the side of the road. Mill and I had read the info at the info stand, and we had the "answer", but it made no sense. It would in the due course of time.

A few miles further down Yankee Fork Road we took a left into Bonanza, Idaho. Bonanza was a ghost town.

On August 17, 1876 gold was discovered in the area. It was to be the mother lode of the Yankee Fork area and gave birth to Bonanza and a sister town 2 miles away - Custer City, Idaho. The mine was named the General Custer Mine.

Bonanza suffered two fires. The second fire, in 1897, was the beginning of the end for Bonanza. Soon after the second fire most merchants and many residents relocated to Custer.

By 1910 the gold had played out. It had all been a bit of a flash-in-the-pan.

Live by the gold, die by the gold.

Mill and I looked at a few of the original structures. Odd to see the old wooded buildings. Houses and such. Built 135 years ago, just sitting there, slowly, ever so slowly, losing the battle to time and the elements. I remember thinking "They are old and somewhat decrepit, but I'll bet they will still be here long after I am pushing up daises."

Bonanza cemetery stuff.

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There was a display panel, set on some sort of stand or pedestal thing, that listed what Mill and I understood to be all the known buried in the cemetery. It was very interesting. All manner of deaths recorded. Mine cave ins. Mining equipment injuries leading to death. Death during childbirth. Overdose on morphine. Suicides. One suicide by a guy who was suffering excruciating pain from "cancer of the stomach". I took a photo of one section. It is just a random sample of all those listed.

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We left the cemetery and headed back to the main road.

As we rode we saw more piles of river rock. Big rocks. Little rocks. Medium sized rocks. Some smooth and round. Some broken and chipped.

Big piles of rocks all along both sides of the road.

The question as to "What" had been answered at the information stand. Not too much further along the road the answer (which we could not make fit what we saw) would be made sense of.

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Dredge: (noun) any of various powerful machines for dredging up or removing earth, as by means of a scoop or a series of buckets. 2. a barge on which such a machine is mounted. 3. a dragnet or other contrivance for gathering material or objects from the bottom of a river, bay, etc.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is exactly what we got to see.

Specifically, The Yankee Fork Gold Dredge.

It sat right there alongside the road. Apparently forever stranded in its own little pool of water.

It weighs 988 tons. It is 112' long, 54' wide and 64' tall. It drives 71 eight cubic foot buckets, each weighing just over a ton. it is powered by two Ingersoll-Rand diesel engines, each producing 350 hp.

During its life on the Yankee Fork River, it dredged right at 6 miles of river bottom.

I'll shut up now and let the pictures do the talking.


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It was really a monster of a machine.

It pretty much cleared its own way as it went. The front of the boat was anchored to each bank and powerful motors pulled cables through a series of pulleys so as to sweep the front of the boat - and along with it the giant bucket boom - back-and-forth while the buckets carried river bottom rock up to feed the beast. Its maw had a device to reject rocks above a certain size. Those rejected were diverted to a chute that spat them back out into the river off the side of the barge. Those that entered the gullet made their way to a series of rotating and vibrating screens. Through all this, the monster's appetite for gold was satisfied by the occasional few ounces that would find their way into the belly of the beast. Those rocks which had been scooped up along with the precious ore were undesirables and were disposed of by passing along a large belt to be dumped out of the back of the machine. A large boom deposited them in piles along the river bank.

And there they sat.

Pile after pile after pile.

Nothing but chaff.

The dredge is open during the summer months and you can walk inside to see all that made the monster move and work. It gets locked up after Labor Day weekend, so we didn't get to go inside.

We walked around the front deck and peered though the windows and imagined just how loud and unrelenting it would have been to have lived and worked on the dredge.

We threw rocks against the hull to see what sound was made.

Yep. It would have been one loud operation.

I am really glad we got the chance to see The Dredge and learn more about it. Stuff like that fascinates me. Men have gone, continue to and always will, go to great lengths in search of wealth.

So, if you are ever in the area, stop by and see The Yankee Gold Dredge. It's worth the time.

We put our jackets, gloves and helmets on and were back on the road.

I have long thought Aspen trees to be beautiful.

With summer ending the days get shorter, meaning less sunlight available for photosynthesis. The air turns colder.

The Aspens respond.

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Awesome history lesson! I love seeing the large earth movers sitting on the side of the road like that.

Great ride.  I am so glad that we never hear about Idaho in our pre-packaged media for agenda-driven consumption.  It's possible, the folks of Idaho have a division of guard troops to keep the "sensationalized BS reporting garbage" peddlers out of there.  I'd rather think that it is barely possible that kind of crap just doesn't happen there.
You have presented Idaho in a package that seems real and has a nice wrapper.  WTG.

Thanks again - to all - for the kind words. I appreciate it.

One more pic (artsy pic) of the Aspens before we move on.


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It was on up about mid-day and the weather was beautiful. Very comfortable for riding.
We had turned left off Yankee Fork Road and were on Eight Mile Creek Road. That would turn into Loon Creek Road which would take us to NF-172 which would run into Beaver Creek Road which would run into Seafoam Road (no idea why the road was named "Seafom" when their isn't a "sea" anywhere nearby). Seafoam would dump us out onto Highway 21 for the ride back to Boise.

But.... still lots to see before we get back to Boise!

Somewhere along the way we turned off the dirt road onto a side trail that went a short distance to some more mining ruins. You'd be surprised, well, I have been while riding in both Colorado and Idaho, just how much mining has taken place over the years.

Even though I am aware of some of the history of the gold rush and knew, from a simple intellectual standpoint, that lots of folks had spent a lot of time digging and drilling and blasting a lot of rock in search of gold and silver (and other minerals) when you see so much of it in real life, it takes on a new meaning.  It had to have been back breaking work. Nothing easy about it. Remote living in rugged terrain. Brutal winters and hot summers. The risk of mine collapse and forest fires and who knows what else. Hearty souls they were. The weak or timid or unmotivated need not apply.

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We rolled away from the mining ruins and headed on our way.

We came across a trail. Not a road but a real trail. Estes Mountain Trail 4351. A rugged trail open to horseback and OHV no more than 50" wide. We stopped for a short break and Mill took this pic of me.

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We pointed our front wheels up 4351 and twisted the throttles. The KLR was capable. Not over qualified by any stretch, but capable. At times I felt it only marginally capable. But, the fact is, it did OK. Bashed the skid plate a number of times but we soldiered on. Mill fared far better on the DR650. The DR650 is just a better bike for stuff like Estes Mountain Trail 4351.

It was mostly uphill riding. Some of it pretty steep and rough. I dared not stop for photos.

Near the top the worst was behind so I did stop and take a pic. This was NOT the "rough stuff".

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A mile or two more of easier riding and we were back on more civilized roads. 

The civilized road took us up and up until we rolled into, you guessed it, another abandoned mining camp. This one appeared to have been in use more recently than the others. Now, by "more recent" I don't mean just a month or two earlier. More like several decades ago. We snooped around one of the old cabins and I took a pic of Mill, relaxing and enjoying life.

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This picture, looking out the front door, gives an idea of how remote this old mining camp was.

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Nearby was what we assumed to be a hunting cabin. It appeared to still be in use.


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We left the old mining camp behind and headed on up the road. Higher and higher until we crested the peak.

Good stuff lay ahead.

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Great Report Brian - and if it was your goal to inspire just one person to get out and DO SOMETHING - you have succeeded.  Pretty sure I won't be leaving the country any time soon, but I will be planning a dual sport trip out of "MY" comfort zone for next summer.     

Off on a tangent for a minute or two (Me. Now. Not the ride)

As I sort through the hundred or so photos I took I stop to think how lucky we are to have such amazing technology at our disposal. A little gizmo, not much bigger than a deck of cards, captures pictures. Pictures that do not exist other than millions and millions of 1's and 0's hidden in a certain order inside a little wafer no bigger than a pinkie fingernail But, when those 1's and 0's are massaged by magic computer stuff, we get "pictures".

Images on a computer monitor.
Still nothing tangible, unless you decide to burn a few cents of ink and paper and print one. Then you would have a proper picture. Something you could see AND touch.

And all this thinking reminded me of one of my all time favorite paintings......

Albert Bierstadt was born in Solingen, Germany in 1830. He immigrated with his family to the US (New Bedford, Mass.) when he was 2 years old. As a child he became interested in art. Though largely self-taught, he returned to Germany in 1853. After 3 years of training there, he returned to New Bedford.

In 1859 - in search of new subject material for his paintings - Bierstadt joined an expedition through the Rocky Mountains. He would go again in 1863. This time all the way to The Pacific via the Oregon trail.

This journey carried him through Yosemite. He made many sketches, and most assuredly preserved many mental memories, both of which he would use upon his return home to create paintings of what he had seen.

The painting - just over 8' wide and 5' high - was completed about the time the Civil War came to an end. It was a majestic panorama which presented the untouched beauty of The West to a nation "back east" that had seen years of suffering during The Civil War.

In a time before color photography and even the wide-spread availability of black-and-white photography, his paintings served to deliver to a damaged nation images of new opportunities, new beginnings and new beauty in The American West.

Albert Bierstadt's  Looking Down Yosemite Valley

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And that is what thinking about digital pictures reminded me of.

The painting is one of the prized pieces at the Birmingham Museum of Art. It's worth a trip.

Quote from: LRobinson on October 23, 2015, 08:36:37 PM
Great Report Brian - and if it was your goal to inspire just one person to get out and DO SOMETHING - you have succeeded.  Pretty sure I won't be leaving the country any time soon, but I will be planning a dual sport trip out of "MY" comfort zone for next summer.     

THIS makes every minute I spend worth while.

It doesn't have to be brutal and a challenge of a lifetime to make it an incredible experience.

There is some incredible stuff out there. And a boatload of it in reach of a decent rider on a decent Dualsport bike.

 Friggen awesome report Brian. Beautiful country out there for sure.


You do a great job on this stuff!

Thanks Springer. I appreciate it.
And you are right. Beautiful country out there.

Speaking of "out there".....

I am a bit behind in getting another update to the Idaho RR. Work has been hectic. I got home tonight after having flown out of Bham at 6:05 Tuesday morning for an unexpected (read: urgent/important) work trip to.......

Great Falls, Montana.

It was a busy few days but I did manage a couple of hours to head out of Great Falls to at least see some of Montana. That is one HUGE state.

I drove past Malmstrom Air Force Base and I stopped at (you guessed it) a roadside info stand to learn a little about it.

Malmstrom is one of three US Air Force Bases that maintains the Minuteman ICBMs. I stood there a minute and pondered it all.
All the way back to Kennedy and the Cuban Missile Crisis, through Regan and the Gorbachev/Soviet Union stuff, and on through today. Armageddon sat somewhere out there. Concrete silos of flying annihilation.

On the gently rolling grass plains of Montana.

I drove on. To Monarch, Montana and the edge of The Lewis and Clark Wilderness Area.

Even though it was pretty cloudy, I could see why it is called "Big Sky Country". Montana is a pretty state. At least what I saw of it is pretty. But, it would have to get more prettier to top Idaho.

Speaking of Idaho......

The stop at the old mining community - where Mill sat in the chair in the dilapidated cabin - had been pretty neat. Made me wonder how it would have been to have lived and worked there.

After we left the hunting cabin and rode on a few miles the road crested the mountain and then we were in for quite a treat.

The road we were on might well have been some of the roughest "road" riding we did. It was pretty much a truck/Jeep road and would lead us to what would be the highest elevation we would ride in our 3 days:  9,355 feet.

This was the stop and our highest elevation we would see over the 3 days. There was a lookout on top of the adjacent peak. I think it sat at about 10,000 feet.

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Without any doubt, this stop was the most "Colorado-like" of anything I saw while in Idaho.

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What a view!

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And a panorama shot

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Yep. That one stop was - for sure - the most like what I saw in Colorado. It was, without a doubt, beautiful. That one stop was incredible. Awe inspiring. Same amazing views one could see in Colorado (or any other of several Rockie Mountain States.)

But that was part of the problem for me, if one could call it a problem.

That view was like any of countless other views at countless other stops at countless other Rockie Mountain vistas. And while it was Idaho, it wasn't what was turning out to be my Idaho.

It is only with the benefit of hindsight that I am able to being to understand much of what made this such an amazing 3 days for me.

There really wasn't anything "spectacular" outside of what any other decent rider on a dualsport could go see. We didn't discover anything new. We saw nothing that had not seen before. Except that which had not been seen by ME. And "that" was every mile and everything I saw.

Several things made it an amazing 3 days. I am only now understanding that one of them was the unexpected reward of checking that one item off my Bucket List.

That one item that I did not even know was on my Bucket List.

The Sawtooth Mountains.

Thanks Willard Scott. They are more beautiful than I had imagined.

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So Idaho was turning out to be an Easter Egg and I guess The Sawtooths were one of the treats inside.

While I was stopped to take the pic above, Mill rolled past me then stopped to enjoy the view. I got a picture of him with The Sawtooths in the distance. I like this picture.

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The road we were on continued for miles. It was really good dualsport riding. Not nearly as smooth and maintained as was much of what we had ridden. But, not nearly as rough (except for a very few, short sections) as the roughest stuff we had ridden. It was just "rough enough" to make sure I knew I was riding a dualsport motorcycle.

Not a truck.

Not a Jeep.

Not a 4-wheeler, or a Razer or a silly side-by-side.

I was on a motorcycle. The way things like this were meant to be enjoyed. Or at least that's the way I see it.

At some point we came to a really pretty area. Another area that had burned in the not too distant past, and in that area we saw an old truck.

Long ago abandoned there.

Left to sit for as long as it took for the rain and snow and hot and cold to reduce it to nothing more than a pile of rust.

I wondered if, years ago, somebody had stolen the truck and with nothing at stake, bounced it along the rough road on its last joy ride to its final resting spot.

Or maybe some old man had driven it there to go hunting or maybe to cut some firewood. And maybe the truck decided it didn't want to run any more. And maybe the old man decided he didn't want to mess with trying to get it fixed or hauled off the mountain, so he managed to get himself home some other way.

I'll never know. But what I do know is that truck, like the old abandoned cabins and the old mining ruins, we still be there long after I am dead and gone, waiting for somebody to come along and stop to look and ponder and take some pictures.


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On we rode. Our miles in the mountains were winding down. We were "down to the short rows" but The Easter Egg continued to provide treats.

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Mill was in the lead now. I slowed down some just to enjoy the views and soak up as much as I could of our final miles in the mountains.

I saw a small mountain lake and slowed to a stop to take a picture. I sat there for a minute and thought about what that lake would be like in the dead of winter. A thick cover of ice and everything covered in snow, as far as the eye could see. I imagined it would be a pretty spectacular sight. It was a fine view in late September.

I didn't realize it at the time, but this was to be the last picture I would take before we were down out of the mountains.

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Wonderful report. Along with inhaling the majesty of that area, a recuring and all important concept, two simple words. Don't Rush. Thank you!

Brian, thank you for the report and photos.  I have now added Idaho to my riding list!

Thanks guys. I appreciate the kind words.

Still a little more to go before we rolled back into Mill's driveway.

Hope to post the final installments today or tomorrow.

The brief stop to take the photo of the little lake had been in The Salmon-Challis National Forest.

The Salmon-Challis is 4.2 million acres of what-you-see-is-what-you-get wilderness. The Salmon River Canyon is one of the deepest gorges in the US. While not as wide as The Grand Canyon, and lacking the sheer walls, it is deeper than The Grand Canyon. Idaho's highest peak, Borah Peak, rises 12,662 feet and is inside the Salmon-Challis.

Our ride on down out of the mountains would take us back through a section of the Boise National Forest.

Looking back at my Garmin tracks, we had ridden though:

Boise National Forest
Salmon-Challis National Forest
Payette National Forest
Sawtooth National Forest
Selway-Bitteroot Wilderness Area
Frank Church - River of No Return Wilderness Area

(side note - it really frustrates me that we can manage essentially nothing of the sort here in Alabama. Really frustrating...)

We hit asphalt, Highway 21 - The Ponderosa Scenic Byway, and headed SW back toward Boise. Highway 21 was a spectacular road. And I mean really, really good. Apparently a large section had been recently paved, the surface was great and it was mile after mile after mile of curvy, twisty, awesome "sporty" riding.

We climbed in elevation then dropped down, then back up , then back down. I had a good time on the KLR, pretending it was more sporty than it was, and riding accordingly.

We stopped along the way at a small roadside pull-out with a restroom. Just past where we were stopped was this sign.

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As we rode though the area past the sign and gate, the walls of the gorge were steep and close to the road. I saw several area where many trees were leaned way over, pointing downhill, apparently the victims of past avalanches.

It wasn't too long before you could begin to tell.... we were getting back to "civilization". Traffic grew heavier and the two lane highway became a divided four lane.

Not far from Boise we rode along the edge of Lucky Peak Lake. It is a man-made lake, with a big earthen dam used to hold back the waters of The Boise River.

Lucky Peak dam was built in the early 50's with its primary roles being flood control and irrigation. It is a pretty area and popular for all sorts of recreation.

The water was real low in the upper section of the lake. Looked like some folks had been having fun.

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The four lane highway lead us on to an entrance ramp to Interstate 84, then Interstate 184, then an exit onto North Curtis Road and a few miles of surface streets before we pulled into Mill's driveway.

585 miles
Lowest Elevation = 2,394 feet ASL
Highest Elevation = 9,350 feet ASL

 
The trip to Colorado  a month earlier had been a load of fun. Great riding with great buddies.
But Idaho had been been different.

Just me and Mill.
Less "intense". 
Less challenging from a technical/skills demanding standpoint.

But, for me, I think it was more rewarding.
More impactful.
More intimate.

And there is always that Bucket List item. The one I hadn't realized was on my Bucket List.

Curious as I type this, I visited the Sawtooth Web Cam.

Sunset in Stanley. Sunday afternoon, November 8, 2015.
The Sawtooth Mountains.

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It's early in the planning stages now, but I hope to ride in Alaska next summer. I have wanted to for years and I figure I ain't getting any younger so might as well do it. God willing and circumstances allow it, I'll be able to fulfill a dream next summer.


Dr. Thomas Gilovich is a psychology professor at Cornell University. His research is interesting and has served, on a personal level, to reinforce my views of myself and life.

"There's a very logical assumption that most people make when spending their money: that because a physical object will last longer, it will make us happier for a longer time than a one-off experience like a concert or vacation. According to recent research, it turns out that assumption is completely wrong.

"One of the enemies of happiness is adaptation," says Dr. Gilovich. "We buy things to make us happy, and we succeed. But only for a while. New things are exciting to us at first, but then we adapt to them."

"Our experiences are a bigger part of ourselves than our material goods," says Gilovich. "You can really like your material stuff. You can even think that part of your identity is connected to those things, but nonetheless they remain separate from you. In contrast, your experiences really are part of you. We are the sum total of our experiences." "

Or as I like to say.....

"Just go."


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Thank you for taking the time to write up this amazing report! It is truly inspiring to see what is available within our own country! I know it is an excuse but once I get my student loans paid off I will be ready to head out on adventures like this!

I may not have met you yet but, after reports like this, I know I would enjoy riding with you!


Thank you!

Quote from: Fencejumper09 on November 09, 2015, 10:36:55 AM
I know it is an excuse but once I get my student loans paid off I will be ready to head out on adventures like this!

Maybe not an excuse.
Maybe a legit reason.

Life has its share of obligations and responsibilities. I am a firm believer in owning up to those.

But, when circumstances allow, going and seeing and "living" is, to me, one of life's greatest rewards.

Nice report. I enjoyed following along and seeing Idaho from your point of view. I had a very different trip there in a different part of the state. It's cool to see a new perspective. I did the more exhausting, higher difficulty trails and covered nearly 1900 miles in 8 days. Both are excellent rides and great experiences just different. I also didn't write a report. I almost never do and I always regret it.

Quote from: Mulley on November 09, 2015, 05:00:18 PM
Both are excellent rides and great experiences just different.

Mine was better

Quote from: Mulley on November 09, 2015, 05:00:18 PM
I also didn't write a report.

Because you are a bum.

Quote from: Mulley on November 09, 2015, 05:00:18 PM
I almost never do and I always regret it.

You should regret it. You bum.


Srsly, I do think a lot of what determines the level of satisfaction one gets from most any ride has to do with expectations and desires going in.

As I mentioned earlier, by design, I did not want to spend a lot of time covering a relatively short distance in Idaho.
Mission accomplished.  It really was a wonderful, rewarding 3 days.

I also think there is something else applies that is kinda hard to quantify. Maybe best summed up as "mental state" or "frame of mind". Akin to expectations and desires but less tangible.

I think I was in the frame of mind to really appreciate what I saw and experienced in Idaho. In the wake of our riding in Colorado I was ready to take it all a wee bit slower.

In Colorado, riding was "the end". All else served as a means to get me/us to that end. We were there to ride. And we did. And it really was great. (Lest anyone think otherwise - we had an AWESOME time riding in Colorado and yes, I would go back.)

In Idaho, riding was the means to an end. Without any doubt the experiences - for me - would not have been nearly as rewarding had I not been on a motorcycle. But I was, and riding served to get me to the times and places that scratched an itch.

I hope the ride report served to give a decent glimpse into what that itch was.

Wow, this is a really outstanding ride report!  You really captured some great stuff in your pictures but what really makes your report(s) stand out is your write up.  I really enjoy reading not only your description of the ride but just as important the thoughts you share with us. 

So, will your report motivate me to go out on my own adventure?  Will it inspire me to go to Idaho? 

I already have the ride/travel bug.  I will go on more adventures.  I don't know if a dual sport ride to Idaho is in the cards for me.  Maybe, but my bucket list is pretty long already.  I certainly will go there if the opportunity arises. 

What you report really inspires me to do is to do better ride reports myself.  Your photography and even more your writing are benchmarks I can aim for.  Like you I really like sharing my adventures with others.  I also enjoy having my trips recorded so I can look back at those trips in the future as well being able to share them with friends and maybe someday my grand kids.   

When I went out west this summer some of the places I rode where the same as a ride I had done about 25 years earlier.  It was amazing how much I had forgotten during that time.  A ride report really helps preserve those memories well into the future.

Maybe I'll make I'll get the chance to Dual sport Idaho and maybe not.  Either way I'll have had the chance to enjoy it through your pics and words.  Thanks for taking the time to do this report.

Thanks. I understand exactly where you are coming from.

One's dream ride or adventure ride or whatever ride need not align itself with any other person's ride.
It need only be the ride for the one who throws his or her leg over the seat and twists the throttle, and when it is a ride that sears your brain with memories like a branding iron sears a bull's hind quarter, the results are the same: a permanent mark is made.

In the case of the ride and the memories, while there is a real financial cost associated with the ride, the value of the memories cannot be calculated.


I remembered earlier today that I have several video clips. Actually about a dozen or so.

I'll parse those down and put together a few minutes of video to share. Stay tuned.

Work has been hectic so no video compilation yet,

But, I did run across this.
After two mornings getting up and going at Mill's place, I think he needs one of these.

Quote from: Brian A on November 12, 2015, 10:23:21 PM
Work has been hectic so no video compilation yet,

But, I did run across this.
After two mornings getting up and going at Mill's place, I think he needs one of these.

There are days when I need that!  ;)

Finally.

Finally I took the time to throw together a video of Idaho stuff.

I think most of the pics were in the ride report, but first time for sharing the video.

It's sort of a quick-and-dirty job.

Nothing flashy or high tech. Just good stuff.  A lot like Idaho!

on a related subject....

I never did a ride report for the Colorado trip.

Here is the video from our week there. You can get a feel for the difference in what and how we rode.
(Watching the video reminds me... Colorado really was a good time!)

"Let The Good Times Roll"...while riding a Kawasaki.

(http://memeorama.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/baby-i-see-what-you-did-there.jpg)


Good stuff Brian!

Quote from: KevinB on November 19, 2015, 08:50:59 PM
"Let The Good Times Roll"...while riding a Kawasaki.

I never even noticed that.

But since you did.....

Open daily but Monday


Great report Brian. This whole time I forgot you two were actually riding until the video. That's Beautiful country

Very well written. This is certainly National level material. It needs to be entered in any riding magazine and shared across the country.

Thank you very much Frank.

No big trip for me in 2020 as most all my time and money were spent building a new house then getting settled in. So no ride report.

I have an inkling I might be back in Idaho summer of '21. And maybe another trip somewhere as well. I hope that turns out to be the case.

I kinda' miss doing riding reports and hope 2021 affords me an opportunity or two to remedy that.

Thanks again for your kind words.