Very often, while traveling hither and yon on my Harley, I spot some man or woman or both trapped in a vehicle. Maybe their kids are screaming or they are screaming. Maybe they are scowling or looking out the window maybe even playing the "I am not going to talk to you game" that 70% of adults use to solve their differences. Or maybe I hear the sounds of Milli Vanilli playing on the radio.
So in some smug, sort of secret way- I find myself feeling sorry for the occupants of cars. Unfortunately, today was not that day. Today, I felt sorry for me. Mr. Donner. The moron who decided to scale Lolo Pass from Lewiston to Missoula on his motorcycle. "Look honey, that guy must be freezing!"
Today the tables were turned.
There have only been two times in my riding life where I have had to throw on everything in the bag. Today was the second time. The first time occurred in Sept. 2007, during a blizzard which extended from Taos, New Mexico to Snowville, Utah. Back then, that was the pinnacle of dumbassery. With four inches of slush on the road- that day is still my crowning achievement. Today, just gets a silver medal.
As I am writing this, you should know that the heater is on high in my room. I have draped my jeans over that heater- jeans which actually got wet through my chaps.
The weather was a perky fifty five degrees or so which plummeted as I climbed the 215 mile pass. The declining temperatures were aided by multiple rain showers which together conspired to turn my nuts into a couple of caraway seeds. That I am able to even type right now is a testament to my dedication and commitment to my readers here at FG.
Still free and worth every penny.
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| We tried to kill them- they killed us. |
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| On top of Whitebird Hill where the cavalry got whipped |
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| Lochsa River- approx. same temp as photographer |
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| Snow on Lolo Pass |
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| Like the Grizzly Motif |
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MM