OldHog: The Journey, Not The Destination

Our motorcycle trip this year has gone in a different direction than our previous ones. For the last three years, our trips have been focused on reaching destinations or travelling to various places. This year the focus is more on the experience of riding.just for the sake of riding. Our course has been determined by two factors; finding decent weather, and riding roads that are just fun to ride. On this trip we have been successful, and today was part of that general trend.

When we left Missoula this morning the sun was shining but it was abut 10C so we bundled up with sweatshirts, Jim and Garry with heated vests, thermal tights - anything to keep from getting a chill. US Highway 12 splits off from US 93 and heads west at a small town named Lolo. The highway climbs and descends, and twists and turns from just outside of Lolo and for ninety-nine miles according to the road sign that we saw at the beginning of the ride. For ninety-nine miles (155 km) riders experience a series of turns, some sweeping, some sharp, that take them to the Lolo Summit at an elevation of 5 233 feet.

Things to come

And still more

From there the road gradually descends, most of the way along the aptly named Clearwater River for most of its length. There are very few straight stretches on thi road and several publications have named this route one of the best motorcycle routes in western North America. I suppose that many roads get that designation from many different writers, but in our eyes the ranking is well-deserved.

At the beginning to the ride Tom and I said goodbye to Garry and Jim because they wanted to ride faster than Tom and me, and we tend to stop more often to enjoy the scenery. To each his own, though. Our first stop was at Lolo Summit where we read signs that explained to history of the region from the local people's perspective as well as that of Lewis & Clark who came over this pass in September 1805 on their journey to the Pacific.

Our next stop was at Lolo Hot Springs lodge, a place where people can soak in private hot pools while enjoying proximity to the wilderness. While we were stopped an older man ambled across the highway carrying a bucket. In appearance, he was the stereotypical 'Marlboro Man', lean and rangy with cowboy boots, big belt buckle, cowboy boots, a plaid shirt, and cowboy hat. It was a sight that isn't uncommon in this part of the US.

Stopped on the highway

Lolo Hot Springs Lodge

Rock formations near the lodge.

Garry and Jim rode ahead as Tom and I took a more leisurely approach to the ride. We enjoyed riding the curves while enjoying the sight of the river as it raced downhill. In places there were rafters and kayakers, as the river is quite large and while lowing quickly, it does not seem to have the treacherous rapis that others seem to have. There are sever suspension bridges that allow hikers and horseback riders to cross the river at various points but motorized vehicles and bicycles are banned from the trails. I don't understand why horses are allowed on the trails while bicycles aren't. it seems to me that a horse can be more dangerous and cause more damage than a bicyclist.

Typical suspension bridge across the Clearwater River

Rapids on the Clearwater River

The ClearwaterRiver flowing fast

The highway is a series of curves that hug the river bank for most of its length. Sometimes it is a challenge to both ride and watch the river as you do so, This is what a rider experiences many times over on this ride.

Part of the ride

More of the ride

As we neared the end of the winding section of road we had not yet caught up to Garry and Jim, so after a refueling stop we carried on through various small towns along the river. At Orofino we passed tow motorcycles parked at a restaurant and after second thoughts, we turned around and came back to find that the guys were there, just having finished lunch. We joined them and as I was thinking about what to order the lady, Emma asked if she could help me. I told her that she could, but I didn't know just how, yet. The cook called out, 'We can help you, but we don't do psychiatry.' My reply was that my therapy was sitting out in the parking lot, and that you never see a motorcycle parked in front of a psychiatrist's office.

The hamburger I ordered was the best one I have had in years. Emma says that it was because the meat had never been frozen. She is probably right. If I lived there I know that I would be a regular at that little restaurant. Strangely, for a roadside restaurant, it also had an eight lane bowling alley, so things must be hopping there on bowling nights. As we were leaving a little boy walked into the restaurant and climbed up on a counter stool. He was dressed up as Woody from Toy Story, and a young woman who had come to the counter to pay her bill remarked, 'Oh there's a little Woody.' It was the best line I heard all day.

We left the restaurant for the final thirty miles into Lewiston-Clarkston. The river was larger and slower at this point but the highway still clung to its bank the rest of the way into town. The hills that rose along the banks of the river were devoid of trees with only short grasses on their flanks, Again, the combination of river and steep hills was striking.

After stopping at Starbucks in Lewiston, we found rooms at a motel in Lewiston, WA, and checked in. Since we were here, and the Old Spiral Highway was a short distance away, it seemed a shame not to ride it, so Jim, Tom, and I did from the bottom to the top and back down again. The highway gains or loses two thoudand feet of altitude in eight miles with sixty-four curves that in total make more than a dozen complete circles if their angles are summed up.

Tho Old Spiral Highway, Lewiston, ID

The viewpoint at the top of the road offers a panoramic vista of the Clearwater and Snake Rivers, as well as the town themselves. The phots below should give an idea of the view from this place. If the Lolo Pass Ride was the main course for today's ride, the Old Spiral Highway was dessert. It wnderfully topped off another excellent day of riding.