All the Way to the Water - Day 2

2 MORE DAYS ALONE !

Saturday morning came after I had enjoyed a solid night’s sleep. The combination of the long day and a few beers acted as a sedative and I slept hard for almost 9 hours. I was in no hurry to leave early. I only had about 500 miles to go today from Miles City to Missoula, all the way from the eastern to the western edge of Montana.  I wandered to the office, poured myself a cup of too strong coffee, and went outside with a couple of wet rags the motel offered to wipe down the bike. I pulled off the cover and soon saw the results of riding in the rainstorm much of the day yesterday.  The bike was streaked with mud everywhere, especially down the sides and on the windshield. I knew I would be spending some time cleaning this mess before I started my day.

                                                              

The night before as I was unpacking I saw 3 riders come in to the motel with another bike on a flat bed trailer. It seems that one of them had suffered a break down along the highway about 20 miles east of town. I remembered riding past a group on the roadside last night but thought little of it as they made no signal for help as I went past. I thought they were taking a rest, or pictures, or something else as a small group will do sometimes. I was really focused on getting here and anything else was a distraction from the primary mission goal of the 1000-mile ride. This morning as I spoke with a few of the riders in the group I learned the facts of this unusual situation. It seems the 3 riders I saw come in last night had stopped to help the 4^th broken motorcycle. A woman from Seattle was riding the broken motorcycle. She now had a big problem. Her bike was broken and the towing company would not take her farther. The closest Harley dealer (still under warranty) was in Billings another 200 miles west, and no way to get the bike there.  Further, the other 3 riders had to leave to make tracks to get themselves home in time and this gal was stranded. The motel had started to empty too as people checked out and went on their way. Only a few people were still around and we milled about the office drinking coffee. The stranded lady biker had befriended a local fellow who seemed to be moving toward getting her a ride in a pick up truck with her bike to the dealership for repairs. As this process played out, I volunteered to help if they needed anything, as I would be around for a short while yet preparing for my day. Eventually they asked me to come help push the bike over a ramp and onto the pick up they had backed into the side of a hill. After we got the bike loaded (with some considerable effort), I asked the gal where she was going when she broke down. She then proceeded to tell me that she had terminal inoperable cancer and was out on a 4000-mile ride as part of her “bucket list”; and was on her way home for the last time.

On the way to the dealer

With that somber news I bid her and the others well and mounted up to go west to Missoula. The ride through Montana was fairly easy…interstate highway all the way for the last time for the next many days. 500 miles later, I was in Missoula. I could’ve gone farther but this was the best starting point for a ride through some wonderful motorcycle roads. So after I checked in I went for a nice long walk, got a sub for dinner, and went early to bed…the next day would be a long one, as I knew I was going to Portland Oregon.