2024 West Coast Motorcycle Trip - Part 1
Friday July 26
We met at Petro Canada in Winkler and got ready to head out on our 15 day adventure across 11 states. Being only 15 minutes from the US border we end up in Walhalla for a dart only 40 minutes after leaving. We ride out through this tiny town that we’ve been through a million times before only to be IMMEDIATELY held up by 11 miles of road construction with one lane of traffic. We’re told the wait will be about 15 minutes but it’s long enough for at least a few darts. It’s ball sweat hot as we wait for the Stop sign to turn to Slow. Oh well. We eventually got through.
The first afternoon on our way to Burlington, ND had it all. Road construction, loose gravel, sweaty ass heat, rain, and probably wind. Fun how quickly that changed. We did that 11 miles of road work in the heat, then got to the road to start heading west to Langdon. A quick 20 mile rip that went from heat to rain. Hard Luck trip starting out RIGHT on brand.
Eventually we made it to a really nice and quiet campground in Burlington. We were greeted by an army of Canadian geese that were occupying the camp and working hard to cover every square inch of the place in shit. Luckily they seemed to gravitate more towards the kids play structure area, so that sand is well fertilised. Riverside campgrounds are always a great place to rest the head.
Saturday July 27
A bright and early start to day 2 set the tone for our trip mornings. We made a press of coffee with freshly ground beans, because even dirtbags need some standards. After a hearty breakfast of coffee and darts, we started our trek to Billings, Montana. The morning was crisp but comfortable on the bikes. Crossing into Montana it seems like there’s some kind of agreement between North Dakota and Montana, that Montana gets bigger trees and mountains and stuff, but also WAY bigger bugs. Immediately after crossing the border it felt like I was taking rocks in the shins, but nope, just massive bugs. The bugs continued well into the evening as we arrived at our KOA campground in Billings. As we arrived we were greeted by a choir of Cicadas singing their perpetual song. Thankfully the cicadas were joined by an orchestra of dirt bikes screaming up the hillside. We couldn’t figure out what was going on at first due to not seeing any bikes, but then someone told us that the hill we could see poking up over the trees was home to a national hillclimb circuit run.
Camping right next to us was a hippie couple that had been living here for a few months. It seemed as though these friendly folks were the unofficial campground greeters that had a solid understanding of the local scene. This meant that as the evening wore on more of their comrades seemed to come from nowhere to join the party. Who knows! However, no matter how odd the situation, friendly new weirdos are always welcomed by us.
That night Dan introduced us to a culinary glory known as the taco dog. A taco dog is a hot dog, wrapped in a tortilla. Preferably a corn tortilla warmed up over a fire or in a cast iron pan. It may or may not have a condiment, such as mustard, This would be our supper of choice for most of the trip. It’s cheap and effective while being delicious in a way that would make Gordon Ramsay give up on his career. It’s that good. Take note bikers.
Sunday July 28
Day 3 felt like the first day of the actual adventure, not just travelling to the place for the adventure. Of course every day on a bike is a good day, but for prairie boys everything changes as soon as mountains and curvy roads are introduced. Within roughly 2 hours of leaving Billings, we were riding Beartooth Pass. A road that is truly unreal! At the peak it’s over 2 miles above sea level, a fact that does not go unnoticed by a carbureted bike tuned for sea level, but we made it work. Climbing the mountains was righteous, non-stop curves, switchbacks, and hairpins that remind you that you’re not as good at riding as you think you are. So you should probably take it a bit easier than you want to. Unless of course you’d like to launch over a cliff and paint the rocks below with the colour of your insides.
We took a couple breaks on the climb up so Dusty could shoot some epic photos. We also dismounted at the summit to take in the views, and the cold refreshing air. A welcome change for the blistering heat we felt earlier on the road. The views at the summit were incredible. Snow capped peaks, a mountain lake, and crisp mountain air that provided an other worldly sense which translated to the feeling that we were somewhere completely removed from “normal” life. It was surreal!
Heading back down the pass we entered at least one open range so now we had to keep our eyes peeled not only for deer and other wildlife, but beef as well. Back home if we see cows roaming around, that means someone did a bad job of making sure their fence is, you know, a fence.
After Beartooth you’re spit out at Cooke City, which is a HILARIOUS name for a place with a 2020 census population of a whopping 77 people. We fueled up there, slammed some beef jerky and Redbull, crushed a dart, and proceeded to enter Yellowstone National Park. We took our time, mostly because we had to with all the frickin’ tourists that drove WELL below the speed limit.
We continued on slowly making our way through Yellowstone which was cool as shit. So many buffalo, or bison, whatever, big ass murder cows. We pulled over to watch some big boys try to get it on with the ol’ lady types, but they weren’t having any of it. The sound of a giant, horny bison is pretty relatable, I mean, loud and distinct. Those boys really tried to get after it, but the “it” was not cooperating. We hung around there for a bit so Dan and Dusty could get some shots of wildlife and our gear. It was a fascinating time watching these massive animals who couldn’t care less that we were there in their habitat, Like watching a live National Geographic special. Continuing on to Spire Rock we passed through large thick clouds of smoke from forest fires.
Spire Rock is a Bureau of Land Management campground so not much in the way of amenities which is no big deal for guys living off of motorcycles. That campground had a really cool vibe nestled between two mountains with a creek running through it. We ended up staying in the same site that Dusty had camped at a couple years prior. At his suggestion we ended up there and he did not overhype it at all. As we parked for the night I saw something hilarious. I got Brother Wess to start recording a video and guided him around to the front of his bike to point out to him a bird that decided it would be better to be dead and part of his Yamaha Raider than to continue on in this life. Within this group, only Wess has had close encounters of the bird kind on the bike. An ongoing theme which climaxed with one bird that decided to join him inside his open face helmet the previous summer.
As we dined on some more taco dogs while hanging out around the fire, The beer flowed like wine until it was time to pass out. Thus ending Day 3.