Day 4
I was going to sleep in the same bed two nights in a row, and Day 4 was left to easy exploring of Glacier National Park.
I could have slept in late, but I was in a bunk room with a bunch of other guys. Sleep wasn't that easy.
While waiting for the diner next door to open I chatted with a guy travelling out of Chicago who was from India. We talked about the ideal vacation to India, because I told him I was intimidated by the country. I've seen too many pictures of trains with people hanging off the outside, motorcycles with 6 people on them, and crazy traffic. He told me there was no way to talk about just "India", it is too big and diverse. We looked at a map on his phone, and he walked me through the mountains to the north, desert to the west, tropical rain forest to the southeast. What to do in each region. Which cities to visit (briefly). I should have recorded the whole conversation. A real decent guy. I am convinced to go to India one day.
Next door was the Whistle Stop Cafe', which is apparently known for the deep fried huckleberry stuffed French toast. But I got a smoked salmon omelet:
I wandered back over to Brownies for another cup of coffee and to pack for the day's ride. Not in a hurry, but I figured the earlier I got out the more wildlife I might see. I'd seen antelope already, that put in a western mood. And Magpies.
I got an overly-direct Hello from a guy with a backpack and a tattoo of a hand grenade on his neck, loitering on the deck of Bownies. He explained that he grew pot in Colorado for half the year, and traveled for half the year. He slept in the post office the night before. See, he traveled without money to get the "authentic experience". He had earned $30 that morning helping a guy who had just hit a deer in his car. So, living off the land so to speak. He said he smoked weed every day (lot of information for 3 minutes of knowing each other). I asked if he was worried about holding so much weed, but he said no, the cops were cool. They knew he was a traveler. I wasn't so sure about that, and when he asked for a ride into the park I explained I was on a motorcycle and couldn't help. Truth be told, I could have been alone in a 12 passenger van lonely and desperate for conversation, and I probably would have told him the same thing. He was actually cool enough, just a bit too much personality for my taste.
I rode into East Glacier, looked for a hardware store so I could get a bolt to re-attach the bar end mirror that had snapped off when I dumped it, but no luck.
I still wasn't sure about the bike. The bars were pretty straight, but the bike pulled to the right now. I had a throttle lock, and coming over Rt 2 I could engage that and ride with no hands without issue. Now the bike pretty authoritatively pulled to the right. I could control if with a leg on the tank and a lean to the left, but something was off. And something didn't feel "just right". There was a change in handling that made me uncomfortable. But I wasn't sure how much was real and how much was in my head.
I had it in mind I might ride to a bigger town with tools and work on the front end again. But later afternoon if at all, first I rode to West Glacier via Rt. 2. Not the most fun road, but mountains in the park were in the clouds and I wanted to give it some time to hopefully clear.
I puttered up the beginning of Going to the Sun road, hoping the clouds would lift. They wouldn't. They stayed planted for days.
There were a lot of cars around, but I had good luck driving past any pullout or attraction with a lot of them, and taking breaks were no one else was stopped. Not sure what I missed, I bet nothing but a crowd.
I started the climb and it started raining. Gear on, camera into its dry bag. Not too much to the ride to the top. Bad visibility, very bad at times, cold and wet. There would be a break in the clouds sometimes and a glimpse of something, but it was largely a bust.
At the top at Logan Pass I pulled out to get under a roof to move my phone and wallet to drier pockets. We were socked in.
As I walked back to my bike I looked to my right and was shocked by this clear view of the green valley below. Where did that come from? And as I dug out my phone for a picture, the clouds closed in again and just like that it was gone.
Coming down the east side, not too far down the road, the clouds opened again. It was really a beautiful view, I spent a while there. And the best part was the clouds. They would roll down from the top, fall into the valley and block the view. Then they'd climb the walls and disappear. Always a fun time looking down on the clouds, especially when they're moving around like that.
The bike did good. I decided not to work on the forks anymore. They weren't perfect, but on a risk/reward level I decided I had more to lose than to gain trying to fix them. Didn't want to strip a bolt or something on the road basically.
I blew a fork seal on the trip too, although I didn't notice it until later. Not sure if that was related to the wreck or not. The bike has quite a few miles on it, it probably is just time to rebuild them.
The other bike issue was that my carb jetting was off. I have a A/F meter permanently installed and I've been happy with my jetting for quite a while. But recently someone told me I was stupid and my jetting was obviously way too rich. So, I tried slightly smaller mains. And the bike got stupid lean. Which surprised me because I didn't change the mains that much. So I put the original jets back in. And I was stupid rich the entire trip. And my gas mileage was lousy. The AF meter was showing around 12 most of the trip, sometimes up to 13 but not often. And at high elevations below 12.
What is driving me crazy is that as soon as I got home, my mixture was perfect. 13.8 to 14, bang on. Has been ever since I got home.
Only other issue with the bike is the speedometer needle swings pretty wildly. I relied on my tach for speed management. I looked at the cable today and it seems fine. I'm worried it's the speedo itself. I've noticed little grease spots on the numbers on the odometer, I'm wondering if a seal in the speedo didn't let go somewhere? I really don't want to replace it, I want to watch it roll over 100k next year!
All in all though, mechanically-wise I happy with the Bonnie. It's a rugged workhorse and isn't very finicky. It keeps just motoring on. And I always remind myself that old Royal Enfield Bullets held together with baling wire and duct tape climb the Himalaya's all the time. A bike does not have to be in perfect condition to travel on. And mine did the job.
To finish out Day 4: The weather got much better once I dropped elevation. Those clouds just hung over Glacier for days, but everything around it was pretty much blue skies and wonderful.
I ran north to Many Glacier, more cool mountains there.
Coming out I had maybe the best bear sighting of trip. A bunch of cars were pulled over. My camera was packed away because of the weather, but I dug out my little 12x binoculars. There was this huge cinnamon bear out there. Massive. At one point it stood up and looked in my direction, and he felt real close because of the binocs, and I shriveled a bit. It started moving close, and a Ranger told everyone to get in their vehicles and leave immediately. I loitered by the bike a bit, not wanting to be the first to go. The Ranger walked over to me, not sure if he was going to shoo me away or what, but I said "I don't have a vehicle to get into". He said "That was your decision, put on your helmet" and smiled and walked off. I loitered a bit and left. Based on size and color a lot of folks thought it was a griz, but it didn't have the hump over it's shoulder blades. It was just a big impressive black bear.
Heading back to East Glacier I encountered Awesome Motorcycle Road #1: Rt 49 between 89 and East Glacier. You have to watch for the free-range cattle, and horses, but they aren't jumpy. If they're on the edge of the road they'll stay there. Nice fairly tight corners, the type that have you guessing what's on the other side. The pavement not perfect but interesting, not bad. Honestly, about my favorite type of road. Not sweepers, they don't interest me enough, but quicker and tighter corners that keep you on your toes. These curves rebuilt my confidence in the bike, and was when I finalized the decision to delay repairs to the front end until I got home.
I was riding the curves in traffic. Which wasn't perfect but I concentrated on being smooth and maintaining an exact distance from the vehicle in front of me. Just a game I play. I pulled off at a pullout and another car did the same, I really don't remember if it had been in front of me or behind me. And I'm not bragging, just telling what happened ... this younger dude jumps out of his car grinning ear-to-ear and shouted "You know how to ride!" Heh. He and his girl were vacationing from Pennsylvania. Back home he rode a rat bike it sounded like that he's worked on a bunch, and she had just passed her MSF course. We talked quite a while. He had proposed to her just the day before at Yellowstone, and now they were engaged. They were on cloud nine full of young love. Quite fun to be near, and I'm glad they gave me their time.
Eventually, they drove off and I walked down a short path to look at some grave sites I noticed. Not sure how they got permission t be burried there, but we were on a reservation so the rules are likely different. Can't really think of a much better location:
Back at Brownies I bought a few beers, but left all but one in the cooler. And went back for the others as needed. I needed to do laundry and I entered extreme social mode. I'm actually not that social a guy, at least in some circumstances. But I ended up hanging out in the laundry room quite a bit after my clothes were done. Drank my beer and ate some pizza slices from Brownies and chatted with a lady from Maine (wicked excellent accent) and her husband who was an ex-Marine now civilian contractor air traffic controller. And the newly engaged couple showed up again. Maybe some other characters came-and-went.
Then upstairs to sit on the deck, switched to my scotch, and chatted with a couple from Houston who were out on a vacation. Parents of young ones who left the kids behind with their parents. Building shared experiences to talk about beside which kid needs to be where when, what's for dinner, and on-and-on. Good for them.
Eventually, I got talked out and went to bed. Three guys who were just plain drunk and not interesting wandered out, so I scrammed. I crawled into my bunk and they were on the other side of the window. They were a bit loud, betting each other $100 about something. Then as I started to put in my ear plugs I heard one say "where's that guy on the motorcycle?" Crap. So I laid there listening, until I was sure their attention drifted to something else, and when I was convinced I was off their radar I put in the earplugs and got some sleep.