Be Ride Back

“Life is What Happens to Us While We Are Making Other Plans” [Allen Saunders]

We've now been in Washington for a few days, and although we’ve seen some beautiful places and met some lovely people, we couldn’t quite put our finger on what’s holding us back from fully enjoying our time there. Was it the excessive heat? Maybe the fact that everything was so expensive? Or, perhaps, the crowds? Could it be that we were simply missing our friends in Montana? Or… is it the fact that our adventure is nearing its end?

Or is it all together?

We woke up to a cloudy and grey morning in Chehalis; we were meant to ride to see Mount St. Helens today, but given the poor visibility and the smoky conditions, we decided to give it a miss and instead stay at the hotel to devise a new plan for the next leg of our adventure. Our original plan had us spending a few more days in Washington before heading to Oregon, and from there zigzagging our way through the south-western part of the USA all the way to L.A., but the next few weeks were going to be extremely hot, school holiday is on for a few more weeks, too, and even if we could ignore the squealing kids and brave the heat, there was nothing we could do against the heavy smoke and roads that closed due to the many wildfires that were raging around us. Our mate, Paul, was also riding around the USA at the time, so we needed to come up with a plan that would also get us together for a couple of days before we part ways again, him – heading north, and us – well… that’s exactly what we needed to figure out.

Eventually we decided to wait a couple more days in Chehalis until Paul will get closer to Lyle where we’ll meet him, and from there we’ll return to Montana and he’ll continue on his way; with everything that was going on we decided to go back to Troy, work a few days on the bikes that are now due for service, then spend a week at Lacey and Jason’s farm while they go on vacation and then – well… we’ll figure it out later. This way we get to spend more quality time with our friends, human and furry alike, we can work comfortably on the bikes, and we might even have some spare time to explore the area a bit more (assuming and hoping that the smoke would subside a bit).

And so, we did!

With only around 200km from Chehalis to Lyle we were in no rush to leave the motel, but as we expected another hot day we couldn’t linger until it got too hot either, and at around 10am we were riding east along the Columbia river; it was very smoky and we could hardly see the river, let alone anything beyond it, and we could only imagine how beautiful the view would be on a clear and sunny day; many trains were passing along the river, hauling goods that keep America running, but also, probably, being the main reason why all the ‘action’ was on the Oregon side of the river and not the Washington side.

We arrived early at the Airbnb that we had booked for the night, bought some groceries for dinner and took a cold shower, just when the heat became too much to bear. Paul arrived a couple of hours later and after an emotional reunion we sat down for a home-cooked meal and some stories about what we’ve missed since we said goodbye in Rio Grande, Argentina over 6 months ago. The following day we rode the short distance from Lyle to a shop in White Salmon where Asi and Paul pimped their luggage system while I was busy petting the cute dog that was enjoying the aircon at the shop before spending $7 on an iced coffee at the café next door (me, not the dog), not including the tip I was embarrassed into paying for the lovely girl to do her job. I know I should have asked for the price beforehand, and I know that I don’t have to leave tip, but I break easily under peer (and caffeine) pressure.

For the who-knows-how-many time, we said goodbye to Paul as he headed in one direction and we, the other, with none of us knowing when, or where, we’ll meet again. It wasn’t as smoky today, so we could finally enjoy the beauty of the endless Columbia River and the glorious Mt. Hood, dominating the skyline on the Oregon side. It gradually became hotter, and we made sure to stay dehydrated and focused; we enjoyed the ride, and were happy to go back to Troy, but we were both also preoccupied with thoughts about today and tomorrow and how the next couple of weeks would look like and what’s next, this trip and, in general. It was scary and confusing and a bit overwhelming, so we did what every normal person would do – got into a deep denial and decided to simply enjoy every day as it comes like we still have 3 more years of travelling ahead of us. We checked in to the motel we had booked for the night in Cheney, took a cold shower and bought some stir-fried dinner at the supermarket across the street. It was no Gordon Ramsay, and it has more sugar in it than a sugarcane, but it was also cheap and satisfying and we only had a mild nausea later that night, so that’s a win in our book.

A Rookie Mistake.

Excluding one miserable hour of standing under the scorching sun at a red light for roadwork, we really enjoyed the beautiful, scenic route from Missoula to Troy. Montana never ceases to amaze us and we love immersing ourselves in its wild beauty, riding beneath gigantic mountains, along endless rivers, and past deep blue lakes.

Troy, our destination, is a small city in northwest Montana; Originally inhabited by the Kutenai, other Interior Salish peoples as well as the Piegan Blackfeet, the area was settled by miners in the 1880s, registered as a town in 1892 and grew quickly after the Great Northern Railway built a freight station there. Today there are less than 800 people in Troy, a few stores and restaurants, but its location, right on the Kootenai National Forest and the beautiful Kootenai Falls that have been featured in movies such as The River Wild and The Revenant, still attracts many people looking to enjoy some of Montana’s finest natural beauty.

We had already explored the area before, so our reason for coming back here for the second time this trip wasn’t (just) about sightseeing, but rather to visit Lacey and Jason, 2 amazing humans whom we’ve met here for the first time 2 years ago; Lacey and Jason run a magical inn named “Lake Creek Inn” in Troy, and when we stayed here for the first time there was a massive heatwave in the area so we had to extend our stay over and over until the conditions were reasonable enough for us to continue our journey, and during that time we became good friends. The second time we saw them was when they came to Colorado to visit us after Asi’s accident, and there was no way in the world that we’ll be back in the States and not go to see them.

The detour to Troy was one of the best decisions we’ve made on this adventure, and what was meant to be a 2 nights reunion ended up being a week full of laughter that made us cry, food that made us happy (and fat) and some shenanigans (do people still use this word?) that would probably be more suitable for a bunch of 12-year-olds, but between the four of us there’s not a single adult to keep us in check when we’re together, which is bloody awesome. In their beautiful home Lacey and Jason have horses, miniature horses, donkeys, a mule, goats, ducks, chooks, dogs and cats, all super friendly and happy to be cuddled, and while they usually do it just because they’re cute like that, I know that sometimes it’s just be the pile of treats in my pocket which they find to be delicious despite looking like p**p with small pieces of corn kernels in it.

To each their own, I guess.

During our stay in Troy we also had to change our plan, again, and cancel our planned excursion into Banff and Jasper in Canada, again, only this time it wasn’t due to wildfires, but rather because we couldn’t find any insurer who’d be willing to cover our Australian motorcycles for a few days in Canada without us having to sell a kidney, eh; we were disappointed, but we didn’t dwell on it and quickly built an alternative plan which will see us heading to the west coast on the USA instead.

After a sensational week, we said goodbye to Lacey, Jason and their Funny Farm animals and left Troy for Republic, Washington. It is not every day that you happen to stumble upon such great people, and we really felt like us leaving was such a miss, but our visas only allow us a limited time in the USA, and we still had a few bucket-list items to checkout before we head home, so we had no choice but to say goodbye, hoping that we’ll get another chance to meet in the future.

It was warm when we left Troy, and by the time we arrived at Republic, Washington, it was extremely hot, and except for a short walk to the local grocery store for some food for dinner, we spent the evening in our air-conditioned room. From Republic we continued towards Mount Vernon, also in Washington, and enjoyed a magnificent ride through the twisty roads of North Cascades National Park; the scenery was mind-blowing and the colour of the glacial water at Diablo Lake looked so unreal that I had to add a disclaimer to all the photos I shared with my family and friends promising that the photos aren’t edited. We could have easily spent a few more hours at the national park, but there were too many people for our liking and the fuel prices in Washington are so steep that for the first time we actually had to rethink our route, so we decided to head to the motel.

We had terrible grilled chicken for dinner, gutted to find out the following morning that there was a Burger King just around the corner from the motel; for a moment we contemplated whether it’s too early to eat a Whopper before 9am, but decided to act like grown-ups for a change and instead bought some lollies at the gas station. It’s not all fun and games here, you know.

From Mt. Vernon we headed towards Chehalis, looking forward to today’s ride as it will take us through Mount Renier National Park, which we were looking forward to very much. We crossed Seatle, surprised again about how easy it is to cross big cities in the USA, and when we got closer to the national park, we realised that what we didn’t take into consideration, though, or at least slightly underestimated, was the amount of people that flocks the national park on a Saturday, and not just any Saturday, but a school holiday one.

Rookie mistake.

The road was great and the weather was mostly lovely, but the heavy traffic made it very difficult for us to enjoy our ride; grey clouds hovering around Mount Reinier’s peak, but once in a while they’d spread enough and we were treated with a magnificent sight of the mountain’s snowy peak. We pulled over at a gas station for some fabulous home-made jerky that Jason and Lacey made, fuel and a drink, had a fun conversation with a group of Indonesian Harley riders and continued to Chehalis, where we had a room booked for the night. We had Jack-in-the-Box for dinner which made us regret that we didn’t eat the Whopper for breakfast after all, spent a quiet evening at the hotel and called it a night, wondering what is it about Washington that is makes us miss Montana so much.

Intrusive Thoughts.

It was another early morning, but this time we weren’t only aiming to beat the heat but also trying to get an early start for a long ride of over 600 km; there was a shorter route, of course, but we weren’t interested in spending a day on the highway when we can roam twisty scenic byways instead. We opted to ride road 14 at the Bighorn National Forest, Wyoming, a road which we rode before and were keen to do again and at the last moment we also decided to add another detour and ride the Beartooth Pass once again, one of the first mountain passes we rode in the USA.

It was a beautiful morning, and except for two pickup trucks hauling their ATVs at an exceptionally slow speed thus squeezing the joy out of the first few twisties, we were enjoying our time on route 14 very much; it was as beautiful as we remembered but sadly large areas seem to have been affected by wildfire and the results were devastating. As we climbed up in altitude it became colder, so it was time for our winter gear to come out, only to be taken off an hour later and then on and off again, all day, as the temperatures soar and plummet.

We continued twisting and winding along the mountains’ contour and after almost 350 km we pulled over at Red Lodge, Montana, for some leftover pizza that was baking in my top-box. We had a long chat with a couple of fellow travellers from Germany, and although it was warm where we were, we made sure to wear our winter gear before leaving towards Beartooth Pass, knowing that up there it’ll be much colder. For a few long minutes we were steaming in our gear, but once we were on the move, the light breeze cooled us down and we were pumped to ride the pass again, ignoring the grey clouds hovering above the peak, hoping that they will disappear by miracle by the time we get there.

We started the climb on the familiar long, tight hairpin turns, carefully admiring stunning landscape that was stretching beneath and around us, trying our best not to be too distracted by the view and focus on the road ahead. There was still snow on the mountain and it got windier and colder the higher we got, but it was nothing compared to the insanity we had when on both times we rode the pass two years ago. By the time we reached the peak, our hope for a miracle was gone, and the grey clouds that we saw in the horizon were now just above us, doing what they do best. Being on a motorcycle in the rain at 10,947 feet altitude on the highest paved highway in the Northern Rockies might be less than ideal, but all we could do was slow down and enjoy the view and when the rain finally stopped, we enjoyed a few rays of sun, but they were only there long enough to tease us before hail started clicking and clacking on our helmets.

When we arrived at Cooke City it was already nice and dry, though still a bit windy. We ate the remaining leftover pizza we had from last night, now not as warm as before, bought some stickers from the local souvenir shop and continued on the 212 west towards Yellowstone.

Riding through Yellowstone might sound exotic to some, but to us it wasn’t really appealing as we clearly remembered crawling along the 35mph roads behind too many cars, stopping every 5 minute because someone saw something somewhere; now, it’s not that we don’t appreciate how cool it is to see an animal in the wild, but there are also too many idiots in the wild and I was having too many intrusive thoughts about wanting someone to get eaten by a bear or kicked by a Bison, preferably while I am filming, which I suspect isn’t too healthy to any of us.

We rode along the magnificent 212, crossing the Lamar Valley once again, admiring the gigantic Bisons and wondering what Darwin would have thought about the family of tourists walking straight towards a Bison cub. We saw many Pronghorns, a couple of Deer, Prairie Dogs and the butt of a medium-sized Grizzly bear as he was running away from us and into the forest. When we arrived at Mammoth, we were already exhausted, more from the few kilometres we did at slow speed than the hundreds of kilometres we did a couple of hours prior to that, and we were ready to call it a day; we stopped for a short rest, fuelled the bikes, munched on some peanuts and lollies and continued our way west towards Livingston, Montana.

The campsite we stayed at in Livingston was not the place we wanted to be at after such a long day; it was dirty, our mattress was made in hell and in the morning we sounded like two rusty transformers as we tried to get out of bed. We drank our coffee, packed the bikes and left the torture chamber behind us as we headed towards Missoula. We rode the i90 which, despite being a freeway, was surprisingly fun to ride and took us through some of Montana’s most beautiful vistas, with many long rivers, blue lakes and snowy mountains.

We checked in to the camping cabin we had booked for the night which was much nicer than the one we stayed at last night; it was very hot and our butts were still hurting from yesterday’s ride, but there was laundry to be done and food to be cooked, and after some very easy negotiation we decided that we will take the hit and do the laundry but we will order some food instead of cooking.

The overpriced and not-so-mild-although-we-asked Pad-See-Ew we had for dinner was ok, perhaps would have tasted better had we paid attention and saw that it’s coming from a restaurant less than 300 meters away thus able to eat earlier and cheaper, but it was too damn hot and we were too damn tired and it was more like Pad-I don’t see-Ew at the time.

Perhaps we just needed to Wok it off.

Episode 15 is not an episode you'd want to miss! and it's now live on our YouTube channel 😁

In episode 15 of our South American adventure we tick another one of our "most wanted" bucket-list items and ride Cañon de Uchco! We leave Jauja bright and early, and after a short ride on the 3S we head southeast on the magnificent Ruta 24, winding along a stunning, open valley, before starting our ascent to the Andes, where after reaching an altitude of 4,727 meters above sea level at Abra Chaucha, we start descending again, all the way to the bottom of the breathtaking Cañon de Uchco.

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Be Ride Back | South America Ep15 | Peru - Cañon de Uchco In episode 15 of our South American adventure we tick another one o...

Watching Us Watching Him Watching Us.

We spent two fabulous weeks at the Tiger’s Den, Kelly and Allan’s cabin up in the Colorado mountains; we searched for special rocks with Kaiden, picked wildflowers with Eddie, had a laugh and a meal with Kelly and Allan and spent long hours sitting on the front porch watching the lake and the snowy mountains far behind it, or just admiring the starry skies at night. Spring brought with it warmth and fresh grass – a perfect time for baby deer to be born and for us to giggle with joy as we watch them waddling next to their mums, grazing on the young leaves under the cabin. We took the hummingbird feeder out of storage, cleaned it up a bit, made some delicious syrup and ensured that the buffet is open 24/7; what started with a single bird, quickly turned into a humming soup kitchen and we felt like two Buc-Ee’s employees, hardly able to make enough brisket sandwiches for the hungry mass.

The weather up in the mountains was mostly warm and lovely, though some days strong winds would blow, carrying clouds of smoke from the wildfires that were raging around us; we were happy to be far enough and safe, but saddened to hear about the significant damage those fires inflicted on people and animal alike. We took daily walks around the forest, only stopping to catch up on our breath and make sure that we are not being followed by a bear, knowing very well that if we did see one, there won’t be anyone around to hear our screams. It was amazing to think how just two years ago, when we were here after Asi’s accident, he couldn’t even walk a few steps up the hill with his walker and now he’s climbing it like a mountain goat.

It was now time for us to leave the cabin (again) and start heading northwest; Asi woke up early while I was still snoozing in bed, and when he came to wake me up whispering that there’s a Moose outside, I jumped out, almost forgetting to put on my pants before rushing out. We quietly opened the cabin’s door and indeed, a huge Moose was standing just across the road, watching us watching him watching us. We were both grinning with happiness (Asi and I, I am not sure about the moose) and stood there for a long time staring at the majestic animal until it was tired with the staring contest and wandered back into the forest. There was nothing we wanted more than to see a moose again, but as we were leaving today, we thought this might never happen.

But it did! What a sendoff.

We drove to Fort Collins, ran some errands and went to Kelly and Allan’s house to return the car; we removed the tarp that Kelly and Allan strapped above and around Woolly and Elsa to protect them from the elements, loaded them up, changed into our riding gear and rode to the campsite we had booked for the night; it was hot and humid and we were both sweaty, stinky and eager for a cold shower and a rest. Later that evening, when our internal temperature dropped back to a reasonable range and we smelled fresh and fluffy again, we met Kelly, Allan, Kalene and Randy for dinner and we laughed so hard that I thought I will choke on my pizza.

It was a bloody good pizza.

The leftover pizza was now packed in little boxes and though we tried to ignore what was to come - it was time to say goodbye. again. We hugged as hard as we could, kissed as much as we could and hugged again, so sad to say goodbye, but also feeling lucky to have someone we love so much to miss so much.

The following morning we woke up with the birds, hoping to cover as many miles as we could before it gets too hot and windy; we had over 500km to ride to our destination in Buffalo, Wyoming, and we were keen to get on the bikes and on the road again.

The road wasn’t all that interesting, but the view was beautiful and we were reminded why we loved Wyoming so much when we were here for the first time 2 years ago; the camping cabin we booked was small but clean and since it was too hot to cook we decided to see what’s on offer on UberEATS; we contemplated between Domino’s pizza and Domino’s pizza and decided to shake things up a bit and order Domino’s pizza. I am not sure it was Michelin star worthy, but it was warm and it didn’t make us sick, and that’s a win in our books.

"The Only Thing Sweeter Than Union is Reunion." [Kathleen McGowan]

The wind was howling all night, but Woolly and Elsa stood strong and, in the morning, they were both there, battered, but ready for the next adventure.

We took the scenic route to Colorado Springs, riding through windy country roads, enjoying the wildlife and the peaceful countryside. We gave way to a mama dear and her baby so that they can safely cross the road, a sight that gets us excited every time. When we got closer to Colorado Springs we saw a familiar sight ahead of us – Pike’s Peak, standing proud in all its glory, unbeatable and proud. We still can’t believe that we rode all the way to the top of this beast!

We stopped at the local carwash in Colorado Springs to get the muck and all the bugs off of Woolly and Elsa, had some lunch and arrived at Christian and Viki’s place in the afternoon, excited to be reunited with our friends; we met Christian for the first time almost 2 years ago when we did the offroad training together, and he was there for us after Asi’s accident, which meant the world to us. We remained friends, regretting that we live so far apart, but happy that we got another chance to spend some time together.

Christian and Viki kindly hosted us in their beautiful home; we had lots of fun exchanging adventure stories, talk philosophy and roam the local farmer’s market together and we were spoiled rotten by Christian’s cooking, knowing very well that our diet would have to be put on hold for the duration of our stay. Christian cooked for us delicious “Osobuco al Disco”, which, as the name implies, is cooked in a "disco" (short for disco de arado) - a large, concave steel pan made from repurposed agricultural plow blades and can only be found in Argentina; the ‘disco’ rests over an open fire and inside root vegetables and juicy pieces of Osobuco are cooked together. Being Argentinian means that Christian sure knows his way around great food, but it also means that 11pm is a reasonable hour for having dinner.

It was totally worth the heartburn.

Asi took the time and the garage space to balance Woolly’s front tyre, a task we couldn’t do when we installed the tyre in Bariloche, changed Elsa’s front and rear tyres, and while he was at it, he also replaced the worn front wheel bearings and I, as always, stood by his side and tried to help (or, at least, not interrupt) as much as I can but also keen to learn how to do maintenance on the bikes. I was trying to make myself useful when Asi was engineering a solution to pull the bearings out, and when I was given a hammer, I hit my target 99% of the time. The remaining 1% is now a hematoma on Asi’s hand.

I still think that 99% is quite good.

We were supposed to also meet Manu, another friend we met in training last time we were in Colorado, and go for a ride together, but the weather was bad and instead we spent a nice, relaxed day at home; for dinner, Christian baked incredible Neapolitan Pizza and Argentinian Fugazzeta, which had loads of cheese and onions, probably enough to justify a triple heart bypass, but we were in no position to refuse the incredible oniony cheesy smell that was coming from the woodfire oven.

After 3 great days we said goodbye to Christian, Viki and their adorable dog Shaggy and headed towards Denver, where we were planning to see Asi’s cousin, aunt and family; we had a short ride to get to Denver, so we took the opportunity to do a pitstop at the local REI and buy a new pillow for Asi, had a sandwich at Jimmy John’s and by late afternoon we were already laying on the grass, under the shade of a Maple tree in front of Asi’s aunt’s house.

We spent 3 days with Asi’s family in Colorado with our diet still on hold since I don’t think it includes French pastries and Indian food. We drove up to a beautiful lookout just outside Denver where we could see the entire city, as well as Buffalo Bill’s grave at the top of the mountain, where he asked to be buried.

Being dead sucks but having a great view from your grave helps, I guess.

We left Denver late in the afternoon, because someone decided that going to the French Bakery in town to buy some flaky pastries for the road is prudent, and also because by the time we were back from the bakery, Asi’s aunt already made some lunch so we sat to eat, just so that we don’t shrink with hunger in the 1.5 hours it will take us to get to our destination.

Our stomachs were full of meatballs, my topbox was full of pastries and by the time we left Denver it was already late in the afternoon, and the sun was up high, shining down on us with full force, which was quite brutal, especially when standing in traffic trying to get out of Denver. Luckily, we left the city just before rush hour and soon enough we were on the i25, counting backwards the kilometres to the next Buc-ee’s, and our destination for the day – a campsite in Fort Collins.

Now you might wonder what do we have to do in Fort Collins, not really a tourist destination in Colorado, but some of you might remember that this is where we stayed after Asi’s accident, and more importantly, this is where the latest addition to the family lives – Kelly, Alan, Kalene and their family, people who opened their hearts and home for us when we needed them the most and one of the main reasons we decided to get back to the USA before returning to Australia. We checked in, got into our cabin, sent a photo and location to Kelly and Allan and in no time their Buick was parked next to Woolly and Elsa, and all you could hear for miles were squees of happiness, laughter mixed with tears and bone-crushing hugs.

Our hearts were full.

We spent the next day resting at the cabin; for breakfast we had French pastries like royalty and for dinner we ordered from our favourite Indian restaurant in town, and while this restaurant might not be the main reason why we’re back in FC, it’ll be a lie to say it wasn’t on our top 3. The following morning we packed our gear and headed to Kelly and Allan’s home, where they left the keys to their car for us, a space to park Woolly and Elsa and an open invite to stay in their cabin on the mountains, a place where we spent 2 months recovering from the accident, a place we never thought we’ll see again. We organised everything, drove to the grocery store for supplies and up to the cabin, a drive we did so many times before. It felt familiar and weird and good and when we opened the cabin’s door we knew it –

We were home.