Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road. ~ Walt Whitman
As I pulled back into town, I noticed a few riders had already arrived at the gas station to fill there tanks for the long trip ahead. Of the eight people going to Bonneville, I knew only half. My father, my brother in-law, and dads two friends Mike and John. The remaining crew I had only brief interactions with via email. The other notable observation about the lot was that half of us were British. How great is that, I wondered. All of the greatest motorbike adventure flicks I've watched always had British folk. Surely it was a sign of things to come.
We finished our breakfast at the diner and set about determining where we were to meet down the road somewhere. It was decided that the best place to stop was Fernie. The first leg of the journey was nothing more than a chance to unwind from the daily routine we all involved ourselves in. We had all traveled this stretch of road countless times and knew each stop, turn, hill and roadside turn out well enough.
I was nervous at first. I was after all the chase/support vehicle. What if I passed them by? I was driving in a vehicle, while completely reliable, lacked the good fuel mileage of a motorbike. For the most part I stuck to traveling around 90 to 100 kilometers per hour. I finally caught up to them at our arranged stop in Fernie at the Tim Horton's.
After some refreshments, some ribbing for my father showing up late this morning and the chase vehicle driving like I was molasses in January we carried on down the road. The weather was clear and warm, and the black top was as smooth as silk.
We finally pulled into Sandpoint Idaho around 6:00 pm and settled in for the night. James and I had planned on camping out along the way and after getting lost, receiving incorrect driving directions and finally buying a map, we ended up camping next to the Pend Orielle Lake. What a place. We set up the large polyurethane tent and relaxed for a spell under a full moon and a canopy of old cedars. A little piece of magic.
The next morning, Jim and I wrapped up the tent, loaded the gear and headed back into Sandpoint to meet up with the rest of the crew for breakfast and determine any changes in our route.
Once both the belly's and tanks were full, we continued south. Our next leg of the trip would take us beyond the familiar and into uncharted land. The scenery changed by the mile. From fertile farm land to lush forest and through open plain and beyond. Truly an amazing stretch of road. Part of our journey placed us on the I95 which runs through Hells Gate Canyon. A majestic stretch of land with an eye popping vista. I travelers must see.
Keeping our group together became more akin to herding cats the farther along the path we went. Not that we were under any obligation to stick together, but keeping an eye out for everyone was challenging to say the least. It likely would have been far more to my advantage to have brought a map as well. I do have a good sense of direction when it comes to traveling, but the details can get literally lost when I have no reference point. An example of this became quite clear on this particular leg of our journey. I will start that story later. For now. I'll leave you with this montage.
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