North America: Riding a 21 year old Goldwing: 18

Jackson is really cool. How I ended up there is also pretty cool. My good friends from Winston, a classmate and his wife, have family who retired in Jackson. Bill & Ruth offered to host me during my trip, if I ever made it to Jackson. Bill called while I was in Ten Sleep and so I hit the road and left for Jackson. Bill & Ruth have a beautiful guest cottage; my accommodations for the next two days. We went to dinner downtown and had a great time. The next day, I rode another 350 miles around Yellowstone and other mountain roads. I went back to Jackson to get a good nights sleep and to take advantage of the wi-fi. There's nothing quite like sitting outside at the base of the Tetons with a cup of coffee.

Leaving Jackson for what would prove to be an 11-hour, 350 mile ride, I hit some traffic and as a local did a U-Turn to avoid it, I shouted: "can I follow you?" He said: "Let's Go!" What he didn't say was: "Sure, let's ride 5 miles of gravel at 55 mph." It was rough, but he saved me a bunch of time with the shortcut. The next day, I rode the road again to take this picture, though at a much slower speed. My spine, and my mechanical steed were quite happy with my choice to ride 35 mph, rather than the jolting pace from the day before.

In downtown Jackson, the entry to the city park is made from Elk Antlers.

After riding 200 miles of gravel in the last couple of days, my bike is filthy! I need to wash it when it's cool and so that means first thing in the morning.

This is the bike I should have bought for this trip. This I noticed an Atlanta Brewing Company sticker on the bike; sure enough, the bike had Georgia tags. My buddy Dave McClure is the brewer, if you're in Georgia, look for Red Brick Ale.

It rained all through Yellowstone and the drops continued to fall when I reached the famous geyser.

Before leaving Winston, my friend Allison and I went to a Bar-B-Q festival. A vendor had the crushable leather cowboy hats for sale and I've always wanted one. I have a Goretex one for walking the dog in rain or snow. A straw one for the beach, but no crushable one for travel. In the South Dakota Badlands, I found this one for 1/3 of the asking price of the Winston-Salem vendor.

It was nice to be able to stand in the rain for an hour with no unpleasant affects.

While waiting for the geyser, I met Ryan. Clearly, he was riding a bike so we just struck up a conversation. He's from Toronto and is headed to Costa Rica, via Northern California. His bike is a Kawasaki KLR, a 650 dual-sport bike. We talked for awhile about stuff that only people who've been riding for weeks have to deal with. The lack of "inside." There is no car, no rolling up windows or locking doors. There is no roof, no hotel, nothing but the bike. It's so bright out West. The darkest glasses can't keep eyeballs from aching. The constant knowledge that a momentary lapse in concentration would result a situation that neither of us could remedy alone. Riding such heavy bikes is tough and dropping them isn't pleasant.

The rain ended before I left Yellowstone. The ride back was completely different, even though I'd ridden it earlier. With no rain and the spectacular sunset, it was a great ride. I had 3 1/2 hours to ride and made it back to Jackson minutes before dark, about 9:45.

Around 7:30 or so, I came around the bend to see this guy in the road. Buffalo are HUGE!!! I stopped quickly and started taking pictures. Shortly thereafter, I saw the Elk and Mule Deer grazing together.

See the smoke from the Wildfires hanging in the air?

When I got back, Ruth made dinner for me. At 10:30 pm, I had enough chicken, cornbread, potatoes, and salad to last for three meals! It was delicious. Thanks Ruth! The next morning I left for Montana and on the way, I passed the Grand Teton Brewing Company.

Emily poured samples for me, and then I met Bob Mullin, the brewer. Turns out, he brewed my favorite beer while working at the Old Dominion Brewing Company in Northern Virginia: Tupper's Hop Pocket.

He had lived in Arlington, as had I, and we talked about the old neighborhood. Then he picked up the phone and called his wife to see if I could camp behind her restaurant. Los Lobos would play a huge concert downtown at 5:00 and I considered staying.

Bob's wife Constance, had agreed to let the neighbors to her restaurant use the lawn as a parking lot for friends, so I couldn't camp there. It was a sign, I decided to keep riding. It would be hard to top my night in Ten Sleep, so I wasn't too bummed to miss what was sure to be a great show.

I did stop by Constance's restaurant for lunch. It's called Miso Hungary and I had a great bowl of noodles with tofu.

Back on the road, I enjoyed Idaho and then Montana. Hours later, I saw this place in Dillon, MT and had to stop. The iced coffee really hit the spot. Hilarious!

While throwing a leg over my bike in the coffee shop parking lot, the front page of the paper caught my eye:

"Evel Knievel Days in Downtown Butte"

WOW! My friends all know my fascination with the daredevil. I was born in '74, the year of Evel's big jump. I've been a fan since I was 5. At the beginning of this trip, I met Evel's son Robbie in Myrtle. I've read Evel's biography and even saw him in Tampa in 1997.

I was 4 hours from Butte and four hours from sunset. I filled up and got ready to ride.

Leaving the gas station, a fellow and his wife came up to talk. I was off to ride the scenic route to Butte (it was only 120 miles by interstate,) and they asked to ride with me. He'd only had the bike for three weeks after not having ridden for 30 years. It was fun to ride with them.

I still had two hours to ride to make the festival.

I rode through the Big Hole region of MT. The 360 degree panorama is nothing but mountains. It is beautiful, truly amazing.