Echtra Cabin

Note:  Echtra derives from pre-Christian Old Irish literature about a hero's adventures in the Otherworld.  This perfectly describes much of the time I've spent on trip's with KC.

Today we had the luxury of a late start since Karen and Sherry's flight didn't arrive until after 1:00PM.  KC took one more shot at having a Ford dealer read the codes in his F150 and really didn't learn anything new, other than the truck is safe to drive back to Georgia.

Across the road from the Hampton Inn was a liquor store and we pulled in to lay in some supplies.  In addition to adult beverages KC acquire a most impressive wine opener.

KC's 50 Caliber wine opener

Before we got in the truck an adult grizzly bear strolled by and attacked KC.  He used his new wine opener to slay the bar.

Although on my first call to the Whitefish Mountain check in office I was told that check in would be at 4PM, they called me back 30 minutes later and told me to come any time.  So KC and I loaded up the truck and headed to Whitefish, breezed through the check in and drove to the Echtra Cabin past a number of absolute mountain mansions.

The drive to the house scales the mountain/ski resort and at roughly 5,000' sits the The Echtra Cabin.  It is a beautiful home with two master suites on the main level, a gourmet kitchen and a beautiful great room with a stone fireplace and an impressive series of bunk rooms in the basement. The floors are beautiful rough sawn wood that the owners have accented with hand knotted (so says Sherry and who am I to disagree?) oriental rugs.  The layout gives four adults ample space to have our privacy and yet be together.

We did good, but as KC says, at six grand a week a lot of the risk in taking something sight unseen is removed.

When we arrived there was a mule deer momma and her babies having lunch along the driveway.  Armed with the keys that we'd gotten at check-in we could NOT unlock the front door.  Fortunately a maintenance guy was there filling our hot tub and he gave us his code to enter.

There are huge views off the wrap around deck and after unloading our groceries the four of us retired to the deck and enjoyed the 60 degree weather, no humidity and breeze.

Karen and Sherry busied themselves creating their nests and unpacking their clothes and beauty products.  We are planning to drop off the mountain for dinner in Whitefish tonite.

We're back from dinner at the Boat Club at Whitefish Lodge and it was a beautiful setting right on Whitefish Lake, but the food suffered from being both expensive and mediocre.  I can handle either one of those, but not at the same time.  We'll do better next time.  In fact we arrived at what we thought was the restaurant where we'd made reservation, but it turns out it was not.  The maitre d' told us how to find our restaurant but challenged us to return later and bet us a cocktail we'd like his place better.

Looks like he's going to win a cocktail.

Helena to Kalispell

Day 4:  Helena, MT to Kalispell, MT (225 miles)

This was the final leg in our drive and we intentionally left this as our shortest day.  We got a late start and were northward bound by around 9AM.  The route was the most scenic route of our trip and we were treated to blue skies and nearly unlimited visibility.  This was the first day that we were really IN the mountains and the views were fantastic.   Our route was Helena to Garrison along Hwy 12, then north on I-90 just past Missoula, north on Hwy 93 to Poulson at the southern end of Flathead Lake, then Hwy 35 along the eastern shore of Flathead to Bigfork where KC's buddy "Big Ern" lives.  Big Ern's is where we dropped off the trailer and bikes.  From here, it was a quick trip to our hotel at Kalispell.

Before leaving Helena we stopped by an Auto Zone to see if we could get a reading on whatever fault codes were triggering the persistent "Check Engine" light we've been getting on and off since we left.  We got a reading, "Random Misfire", but no real insight to what was causing it and there was nothing we could do to eliminate the issue.  We drove on and had no problems from the truck.  KC is going to take the truck by the Ford dealer in the morning to see if he can solve the issue.

Just west of Helena on Hwy 12 we began climbing and at 6,000' we crested MacDonald Pass which offered a stupendous view of the valley stretching out below. 

As we pulled into a turnout to take a look at the view there was a guy in runners garb running up the highway.  No idea where he was going, but a 10 minutes later we passed him as he continued running up the mountain.  I could do that.

Once we came down from the pass Hwy 12 wound its way through gorgeous country with the either the Little Blackfoot River or the Clark's Fork River (not sure which) just off to right.  We commented to each other how much clearer the air was here than yesterday...Pilot KC described it as CAVU...ceiling and visibility unlimited.

At Garrison, MT we merged onto I-90 and headed for Missoula.   Here we were treated to views of the Blackfoot River for roughly 40 miles before arriving in Missoula.  There is no doubt in my mind that the Blackfoot is a first class trout stream although I saw almost no one fishing it.  As we approached Missoula we agreed that it was a good place to eat and I spotted a sign for Five Guys...BINGO!!!

Across the street from Five guys was a walking bridge that crossed the Blackfoot.  The walls of the bridge were chain link fence and they were covered with "Love Locks"...padlocks that couples, like Justin and Shelby, snap onto the chain link with their names to proclaim their undying love for each other.

As we looked over the edge of the bridge and into the water below I saw the unmistakable motion of a trout rising to take an aquatic insect, in this case a may fly, from the surface.  I showed KC where the fish were, and there were dozens of fish rising in this area, and explained what was going on.

From Missoula, which is a very attractive city, full of millennials and hipsters , we took Hwy 93 north towards Poulson and Flathead Lake.  The route took us through some beautiful ranches, wheat farms and wildlife management areas.  There were tons of potholes and I spotted swans on several of them.  Along the road the hay fields had the old time hay stacks that ranchers create with old wooden devices called "beaverslides".  We saw several of these beaverslides near the hay stacks which must have been 25' tall.

Beaverslide loading a hay stack

About halfway to Poulson we entered a valley with the Mission Mountain Range to our east.  Imposing granite peaks made a statement for sure.

Descending into Poulson we had our first glimpse of Flathead lake which I learned from Big Ern, is the largest lake west of the Mississippi.  We drove its entire length along the eastern edge and it is breathtaking. 

Along the hillside we noticed orchards, but they held no fruit.  Mile after mile these trees were everywhere.  Since Google IS MY FRIEND, I soon learned that these are Cherry orchards and to our great disappointment, the season is over.  We are already plotting to acquire a load of them next year.

At the north end of the lake we turned for Big Erns place.  His lovely wife Liisa was there to greet us along with their energetic dog Reese.  Soon enough Big Ern emerged from the woods on his tractor where he'd been moving trees for a neighbor. 

Big Ern does his best to slow cars down

We spent an hour or so with him catching up, swapping jokes and stories, unloaded the trailer and made plans to meet Ern and Liisa for dinner this week.

After a brief tour of Bigfork, a terribly cute place, we headed for our hotel...another Hampton Inn.

I'm dead tired and ready for bed.

CYA.....

Are We There Yet?

Day 3:  Rapid City, SD to Helena, MT (556 Miles)

We are weary travelers.   Three days of driving and over 2,000 miles has us ready to cry Uncle.  The good news is that our day was issue free, although our pesky "Check Engine" light visited us again late this afternoon (more bad gas or gas that wasn't really 91 octane??) KC's F150 is performing flawlessly.  We're going to seek out some 93 octane gas before we leave Helena tomorrow and may visit a Ford dealer again in Kalispell to see if there are any fault codes found.

The day started before 7:00AM and KC suggested that we drive to Bob's Restaurant in Sturgis, SD (home of the infamous Harley Davidson Rally each August). Sturgis was about 30 miles west on I-90 so it was on the way for us. A town that is designed to host upwards of 740,000 riders during the annual rally, Sturgis was a complete ghost town.  I was struck with how many huge, expensive facilities (mostly bars and restaurants) have been built in Sturgis and yet only operator at their full capacity for a couple of weeks a year.  How does the business model work, I wondered?

Wanda's Kitchen

Bob's was closed so we backtracked to Wanda's Kitchen, an open air spot that serves beers, Bloody Mary's AND breakfast during the Rally.  Breakfast was mediocre at best...but I bet if you were drunk you'd think it was superb.

Following breakfast we took Hwy 212 west bound, headed for Custer's Battlefield.  The road was a good one, albeit mostly two lanes, that runs through some very remote country, some of which is Cheyenne reservation land.  Surprisingly the truck traffic was heavy and there were enough travel trailers/RV's to make things frustrating.

It was on Hwy 212 that an incident occurred that I simply refer to as "The Pass".  My dear friend KC is a man of many talents and numerous personality characteristics that, in our modern society, are universally considered strengths.  However, patience is simply not one of them.  And nothing on this planets tests his limited patience more that a vehicle in front of him on a highway and especially so if that vehicle is travelingbelow the posted speed limit.  So imagine the turmoil he must have felt when we rolled up on FOUR vehicles poking along on the two lane road at something around ten under the speed limit.

And so with his right foot all the way to the floor, his supercharged F-150 pinned us both into the backs of our seats and truck, trailer, motorcycles and men began accelerating passed this line of sub-speed limit travelers.  As we passed the first two vehicles the sound reminded me of watching a Nascar race and hearing the sound the cars make when they pass the camera.  The deep, throaty roar of a big block engine.  As they say on TV, "Boogity, boogity."

Ahead a Winnebago, no doubt enjoying the blue sky and lovely scenery, approached us in the oncoming lane.  I thought, "There is not a chance in heaven we can pass the remaining vehicles, including a semi".  KC, however, saw it differently and kept full pressure on the throttle, bringing us safely around the string of offending vehicles at roughly 105MPH.  Seconds after we passed the semi the oncoming Winnebago passed us, close enough that I feel sure the paint molecules on both vehicles must have considered swapping electrons.  That, dear reader, was The Pass.

By 10AM we'd traversed a tiny corner of Wyoming and then finally crossed into Montana. At Colony, MT we pulled into a gas station but found nothing but low octane fuel.  However we did pass a refreshingly honest sign advertising the Stoneville Saloon's "Cheap Drinks and Lousy Food".  I think I've been there before. We saw the first signs of fall foliage as many of the cottonwoods we saw were sporting early yellow leaves.

Custers Battlefield...not my shot.

By late morning we arrived at the Battlefield and were surprised to find it overflowing with visitors, campers and RV's.  We spent five minutes in the museum and decided to pass on the driving tour...I'd done it before and KC was ready to move on.

Back on I-90 West we hauled ass to Billings, stopped for a Fuddruckers lunch and then pressed on over Bozeman Pass to Bozeman.  En route to Bozeman we tracked along side the mighty Yellowstone River and passed by a section that Jon and I fly fished a few years ago...so much fun for father and son.

The Yellowstone River

Trout live here.

West of Bozeman we passed Three Forks, MT which is where the Madison River, the Gallatin River and the Jefferson River converge to form the great Missouri River, the second longest river in North America. It's a river that I've fly fished and is also a river on which Sherry rowed my drift boat while I fished.  On our anniversary.  Am I not the Man?

We observed that the further west we traveled, the more the haze from the western fires obstructed the mountain views.  We knew it was going to be an issue and it is.  Nothing we can do about it...we'll just make the best of things.

At Hwy 287 we peeled off the interstate and headed north around 60 miles to Helena.  The route follows the Missouri River for much of the way and runs through some very remote ranches with huge wheat fields, most of which were golden stubble, and some of the darkest green and lushest alfalfa fields I've ever seen.  So green that, as KC says, you can't look at them.

We have a short day tomorrow so we've agreed to a late start.  I know KC can use the rest...he's driven every inch of the way and I'm very grateful to him for this.

A Full Day

Day 2:  Columbia, MO to Rapid City, SD (850 miles)

Its 10:30 PM (EST), I'm in my nasty room at the Best Western Hotel in Rapid City waiting for my room service and I'm toast.  And if I'm toast, KC, after driving for 14 hours, must be burned toast. 

Burned Toast

Today we traveled 850 miles from central Missouri to far western South Dakota.  We weathered driving rain, a persistent "Check Engine" light, a flat tire on the trailer and around 14 hours of travel time.

On the positive side we drove safely, had a great Mexican lunch and got through a little over half of the audio book, "Indianapolis"...the story of the USS Indianapolis' delivery of the first atomic bomb to its staging area in the Pacific and its eventual sinking by a Japanese submarine.

We got an early start after a really good breakfast at the Hampton Inn.  The woman preparing the food was a sweetheart named Dolly,  a 22 year veteran of that hotel, who called me "Sugar".  Its been a looong time since I've been called that.  By 7:00AM we were on the road in a light rain.  Almost immediately KC announced that he was getting a "Check Engine" light and we decided to seek out a Ford dealership. 

Check your engine son

We were able to find one just 5 miles down the road and even though they weren't supposed to open for another 35 minutes they ushered us right in and plugged in a computer to read the error codes.  The search provided no error codes and KC and the mechanic concluded that we'd gotten some bad gas and we decided to try to find better gas next fill up.  In the end putting the truck on a steady diet of 91 octane gas from gas stations that looked prosperous enough to have fresh gas cleared the code and made the truck run like a top.

At Kansas City we took the perimeter route I-435 which had very light traffic and connected us to I-29 N. After we'd passed through Omaha we stopped for gas and discovered that we had a flat tire (one of four) on the trailer. KC was well prepared for this and we had the wheel removed, replaced with a spare in five minutes. 

KC, hand me the whatchmacallit.

Move along folks, nothing to see here.

It was about this time that we'd finally out run the weather system that had been streaming up from the south and we could see lifting skies and happier times ahead. 

This naturally made us start to think about lunch and since we'd dodged both an engine issue and a flat tire, we decided Mexican food would make us happy.  Mind you, we were in the middle of the American Heartland.  Not exactly the center of the universe with respect to Mexican food.

But, dear reader, we remembered that Google Is Our Friend and with a minimal effort we located a Mexican restaurant named Mi Familia

Mi Familia...our favorite Mexican Restaurant in Iowa

Crossing the Missouri River in Sioux City

a mere 75 miles ahead in Sioux City, Iowa. And we're glad that we did.  Both lunches were, as Sherry would say, "DUH LISH USS".  We arrived at 2:15 and had the joint to ourselves.  Nice.

Following lunch we made tracks for Rapid City, a mere 428 miles away.  The drive was pleasant enough, blue skies, relatively light traffic and no construction delays.  The route took us through endless corn fields (like 800 miles of it..seriously)...much of it drying before harvest, endless soy bean fields and some other crop neither of us could identify.  We saw dinosaurs at Wall Drug

and some very odd sculptures at The Porter Sculpture Park along I-90.

Approaching Rapid City we had glimpses of the Badlands to the south and we promised ourselves that we'd try to see it on our return home. As we closed in on Rapid City on I-90 the sun slipped behind the hills ahead of us and darkness settled around us.

Its late, I'm tired and its past my bedtime by a LOT.  But there's nothing I wouldn't do for my gentle readers.

Night y'all

Wallet Overboard

Day 1:  Homer, GA to Columbia, MO (750 Miles)

At 5:00AM This morning I rolled out of bed, showered, fed Bella, packed a few last minute items, loaded my SUV and headed out the driveway en route to KC's.  By 6:05 AM we had his F150 and trailer pointed west, hoping to make Columbia, MO by 8:00PM.

Our route took us to Cartersville, GA via mostly back roads and the ride was uneventful if somewhat choked with traffic.  We decided to pull into McDonald's for a quick bite to eat.  Minutes later we merged onto I-75 North and aimed the rig at Chattanooga.  My son Nick lives in Chattanooga and we received word from him that his new Ferrari 458 Italia had just arrived.  He describe it as "Spectacular".  I can't wait to see it.

Ferrari 458 being loaded in Ft. Lauderdale

Nick's Ferrari 458 just off the truck

KC's F150 just had a major upgrade...the addition of a Ford supported supercharger.  It boosted the engine's output to 640 HP and over 600 pounds-feet of torque.  As we motored through Chattanooga's mountainous roads the truck and trailer climbed effortlessly, barely downshifting to scale the long, steep inclines.  But on one particularly long climb the truck began to shudder violently.  It felt like we'd run over rumble strips at 70 MPH.  KC backed off on the gas, reapplied the throttle and it shook again, as before.  He repeated this several times with the same result...profound vibration shook the truck.

I thought, "This isn't good", and I privately wondered where we could safely pull off and figure out what the issue was.

But, dear reader, as so often happens, KC was several steps ahead of me and figured out that he'd accidentally shifted the transmission into Manual mode, locking it into 8th gear...which caused the engine to lug badly on the incline we were on.  Shifting back into Auto mode immediately cleared the problem.  Whew...adventure averted.

About a hundred miles later we stopped for gas.  It was KC's turn to buy and seconds after exiting the truck, he announced, "My wallet's gone".  After searching high and low, we concluded that his wallet must have fallen out of his shorts in the McDonalds we'd stopped at two hours earlier.  Three hours into our trip and we have a real problem...KC has no cash, no credit cards, no ID...we're in a pickle.

KC tried calling the McDonalds where we thought it might be and got their VM.  After turning the interior of the truck inside out, we decided that we'd continue on and make the best of things.  As we approached the on ramp for the interstate we were in a very dark place.

Suddenly KC said, "Look" and pointed to the spot where the dashboard meets the windshield.  And there, where I swear we'd both looked before, was his stupid, freaking wallet.  Another adventure averted.  Kind of a prodigal son thing.

Jesus KC, its 10:15 and I'm emotionally spent.  Go easy on me man.

Anyway, things smoothed out considerably after these incidents and by 7:00PM (EST) we pulled into a Hampton Inn in Columbia, MO.  The day had really gone by quickly and we chalked up 750 miles on day one...decent weather, an hours worth of pretty heavy traffic west of St. Louis and minimal construction.   A interesting start to our fifth trip together.  Tomorrow we'll try to make Rapid City, SD.

Little River Canyon

While this post has almost nothing to do with our upcoming Northwest Tour, it did take place in the time frame between the creation of this blog and the start of our tour...so I'm posting it here.  Mostly to assist two senior memories that are not improving with age.

Last summer KC and I did an over night trip to Fort Payne, AL to stretch our legs and for him to show me the Little River Canyon...a natural wonder created over a couple million years as the Little River carved its way through some serious rock.  During that trip we thought that we'd see more if we could return before the leaves emerged.  That turned out to be the right idea, although the views were still hampered by the thick brush along side the rim of the canyon.  Though it probably would violate any number of state and federal laws, this was a job for a drone camera.  Next time....

This past winter/spring has been cold, windy and wet, so this was the first time since last year that we've done an overnight trip.  Our route to Fort Payne aboard our 2016/2017 BMW R1200GS Adventures was beautiful, though it was a busy Saturday (the day before Easter and mid-Spring Break for thousands of kids)...

The end of the trip was the payoff as we climbed the steep switchbacks inside the canyon and stopped frequently to gawk at the canyon/river views.  When I say steep, I mean 20% or better and first gear all the way.

The last stop was at the Little River Canyon Parkway where you could descend a trail/stairway to observe a beautiful waterfall.  I failed to read the signs and ended up on the angry end of the Ranger's whistle and then his bullhorn.

"TWEEEEEET.  TWEEEEEEEEEEET"

"STOP NOW.  TURN AROUND.  GO BACK.  YOU ARE GOING TO DIE".

Relax man....it's gonna be OK.

Apparently (he thought) I had endangered my life being where I was and this brought out the control freak in the Ranger.

OK...I'm an idiot and he's an asshole....we were made for each other.

While I made my retreat upstream I spotted this family showing no regard for their safety.  Hey Ranger, save them quickly.

Around 4:00PM we checked into the Hampton Inn in Fort Payne and chilled out for a couple of hours in our superbly air conditioned and wifi connected rooms. The front desk recommended we try the Santa Fe Steak House..

for dinner and it turned out to be a good choice.  In spite of the parking lot being slammed full, we were seated in minutes and then observed a model of efficiency as our waitress served us dinner in minutes...we suspected that they were busy enough to have food cooked in advance.  While they took two shots at cooking KC's Rib Eye steak to medium rear (and neither pre-cooked attempt was right) the rest of our food was pretty good (the dinner rolls were airy enough to float in mid-air and the cheese sauce had a nice kick to it), given the crowd and being in Fort Payne, Alabama.

On the following morning (Easter Sunday) and after a hearty Hampton Inn breakfast, we set out for our prime destination...Desoto Falls State Park.  The route placed us on one of the canyon rims which was lined with very nice homes which must have had, one imagines, unspeakably gorgeous views.  We turned into the parking lot for the falls and had a very short walk to the falls, which were spectacular.  Once again, I put myself in a dangerous spot, but this time there was no Ranger to save me.  Somehow I managed to escape the Reaper's grasp.

From Desoto Falls, we began our return home ride in earnest.  The temps rose steadily to the mid 70's under, in the words of George Strait, a blue clear sky.  At the I-75 overpass near Resaca, GA we stopped for pee breaks, a slice of Flying J pizza (delisioso!!!!) and a brief chat with a trucker sporting the very best white beard I'd ever seen (and I told him so).  Our final break came at a gas stop outside of Dawsonville where we had a hot dog and a refreshing pink lemonade.  With our jacket vents wide open we eased back onto the road and pointed the GSA's towards home.

The last turn of the day called for us to turn left onto Hwy 365 with a massive flow of southbound traffic.  KC caught a quick break and shot across the oncoming lane and swung left onto the northbound lane.  I was clearly pinned in with a steady stream of Holiday traffic heading south and said goodbye over our intercom as I waited for break.  The intercom sputtered as he rode out of sight a half mile up the highway.  Twenty minutes later I pulled down my long driveway, about thirty minutes ahead of when I told Sherry I'd be home.

Not having ridden two consecutive days in many months I was plumb tuckered out.  We both need to get our riding legs back and, to that end, we are planning a West Virginia trip soon that should be 5-6 days in the saddle.

That'll help.