The Breakfast Club: MOA Rally 2015 [page 18]

Monday, July 27, 2015

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Alberto’s tale… DAY FIFTEEN - BILLINGS

“Does anybody know what time it is?” - I looked at the clock and saw 4:45 am, “it is almost 5:00 am”. There was no reply. From the grunting and snorting I could tell they did not go back to sleep. One gets up, goes to the bathroom. Five minutes later, the other goes to the bathroom. Five minutes later the third.

“Guessing we are all awake” someone said. “We might as well get up”. I did not need to hear this again, getting up, gave them a warning; “Going to turn on the lights, cover your eyes”. “Gosh, that light is bright!”

The day started in good spirits as we had a good rest. Last night we all went to bed some time around 9:00 pm. Eight hours of sleep, fabulous!

Still, from getting up, to getting going, was at least two hours. We had to load the bikes, and going out to the parking lot was not exactly enthusiastically done. It is raining. Hard. We loaded the bikes with a reserved attitude, but we loaded anyway.

By 8:00 am we are all bundled in rain gear heading for Lolo Pass, some nine miles away. At the base of the pass there is the town of Lolo. Not much in the way of cafes, so we settled for MacDonald’s. Okay by me, as I like the egg-Mcmuffin. “Miss, may I have a number 1, coffee and two-for-one apple pies”. Harvey dittoes, and so does Chris. Not bad. Fast, tasty and cheap!

The rain has not lighten, in fact it seems to have gotten a bit harder. Not really, but we are at a higher elevation and in addition to rain we now have the clouds or fog contributing. No matter, that is what rain gear is for. Up, up and away! While riding I was a little tense, yet once again, I concentrated in relaxing arms and mental attitude. I am getting good at this - it works. Fifteen miles later we are at the top. We stop at a museum exhibit for rest and restroom. This is at the state line where we picked up a hour of time - time Zone.

The exhibit, is for the benefit of the Nez Perce Indians. You remember Chief Joseph, from when we went up the Bear Tooth mountain. The one and the same. Well, I now have a favorite Indian tribe. The Nez Perce, and skip Crazy Horse, Geronimo, Sitting Bull, or whom ever you choose. Chief Joseph, is my guy. Looking him up and impress yourself.

Highway 12 parallels the Nez Perce trail for a long way, well over one hundred miles of pristine forest. All running along the Lochsa River, which eventually creates the Clearwater River (quite big).

But, enough history and geography. This because today not much happened.

For the most part we traveled highway 12. We had lunch at Kooskia. A very old western town in the middle of the Nez Perce Indian Reservation. There we ran into several people traveling independently from one another. Imagine, all heading to the Bay Area. Specially Doug King, a retired lawyer from Berkeley. He sure had stories to tell, but the most interesting feature: 89 years old, traveling by himself! My kind of man. Whew! Wished I can do that when I am that old.

After, we headed for Lewistown, on highway 12. crossed the Columbia River, this is the River The Lewis & Clark expedition took to Astoria (remember where I lost my credit card….there!). Powerful River with much history. We crossed the Columbia onto Washing State and south to the town of Dayton.

Dayton is a special town for us. Harvey’s wife grew up in this community, and her mom had been the owner of a shop. The shop still exists and the new proprietor runs Woody’s Family Restaurant and Bar, photographs of the shop, the bar and Woody who was taking care of business. Harvey and Woody talk extensively about things Harvey knew and Woddy knew. As it turns out they have quite a lot in common. Imagine that! Out a million miles from nowhere and he shares much with a complete stranger. I guess six-degrees-of-separation is true, yes?

Departed Dayton toward Pendleton, of the famous shirts. Yes, they do make them here. Chris catches me at a traffic light and hollers, “hey Alberto! One day - four states - not bad eh?” Correct, today we started in Missoula Montana, onto the Nez Perce of Idaho, crossed the Columbia River onto Washington and now in Pendleton, Oregon. Not bad is right!

Trivia for those that are trivia inclined. So far since leaving home We have covered 3,456 miles from Pacifica at the Shell Station where I met Chris. (Plus another 40 miles to my house in Saratoga). We are but two thirds of the journey and I have had a blast! The BMW bike is certainly a great machine.

Right now we are at some flea-bag motel, don’t tell this to Harvey or Chris, but it is. No point complaining as the are no other facilities available. Take what you get and be happy. I am!

Good night.