2geeks2bikes

This ride was much anticipated as it was through the Magruder Corridor. Not much traffic out here and lots of fire damage. 

Somewhere here is the Montana Idaho state line. No signs : )​

​
We passed into Montana and had dinner at The Joint in Darby.

We settled for the night at Lochsa Lodge. A great lodge for rafting, hunting and fishing. 

All of the staff were 20 somethings. They stay there all season and fill many roles. Chelsea, our waitress took care of us. We asked her if they had laundry and she said if we bring it back before 9pm she’d have it to us the next morning. I was all over that. This girl was so dang go lucky. Every one needs a Chelsea. She was working double shifts, being a waitress, housekeeping, laundry and who knows what else. According to her, it’s all good. Heck, she even said she enjoyed doing laundry. 

Sure enough, next morning she waited on us at breakfast and had our laundry. And she was STILL happy. I wish I got her story, but she was too busy working to chat much.

The ride from Burgdorf to Elk City was certainly challenging. A ton of elevation gain and loss and me mostly riding on the inside track to avoid the steep drop. 

In these pictures if you zoom in you can see our tracks switchback left and right up the mountain. 

After a short ride we ran into a logging operation on the trail. Let me tell you, a loader and 18 wheeler on a dirt road turn the road to dust. Deep dust and a lot of tree debris. We had to wait 45 minutes to get around the loader. It was quite an art watching him load the truck. It reminded me of a huge game of pick up sticks. The loader actually had to push the 18 wheeler to get him started. For us, several inches of dust for 30 minutes proved challenging and fun. Not to mention the dust cloud he kicked up which prevented us from seeing a dang thing until he kindly pulled aside to let us pass. 

Our second short delay was waiting to cross the wire bridge.

After a few more hours riding along the river we made it into Elk City. We stopped for fuel and food at the saloon where we met bartender Chris from New York. Luckily we caught steak night. 

Lots of ‘murica round here, not many dentists.

We did come across a dog catching a ride on the back of a truckload of wood at the store. 

We setup camp at Riders Rest, 

owned by Kelly and his wife Karen. Originally we drove past Riders Rest and a guy on a 4 wheeler chased us down and told us about the camp. So after we ate we went back to it and Kelly sold us on it. Flush toilets. Showers. Laundry. Firewood. Perfect. Showers are big when you are eating dust all day. All of our gear is covered in it. ALWAYS. 

Of course everyone on the trip asks where you are from. Every time Mark says Maine he always gets a “what?” , and funny looks. I struggle with the question since I’ve lived in 6 states at this point. We both point out we either live, or lived in small towns.  That buys us some credibility. Mark gets more being from Maine. Everyone along our path is extremely patriotic so our military service usually pops up and we get some more credibility. Anyway, Kelly is from Washington state and his wife Karen is from the Bahamas. They certainly took care of us. How Karen made it to Elk City I didn’t find out.

That night, as Mark posted, we finished our bottle of Crown (the sleeves are handy dust wipes for our face shields) and headed over to the VFW wearing our PJs, headlamps and flip flops. No one batted an eye when we came in.  We ran into Chris the bartender from the saloon again and some ol’ timers telling stories before we turned in.

The next morning was cold. Low 30s. Everything out was frosted. 

We had breakfast across the street where we listened to some more ol’ timers talk about how the country is going to hell. I’m sure the same conversation is taking place across thousands of diners in small towns across America.

I forgot to mention. I’m posting all of these from my phone. It stinks, but bringing a laptop didn’t seem like a good option. Giving the riding we’ve done, the dust, and the fact that I’ve dropped my bike twice and busted one of my panniers, I think it was the right call. Excuse the typos. 

The ride to Burgdorf was great. Plenty of winding roads and remote towns along the way. Our first stop was Yellow Pine. We had a quick stop at the Yellow Pine Tavern for lunch where we met Laryn, the bartender, and a few other locals. In most of these towns folks are retired and either hunters and fisherman, or miners. 

After lunch, we had to take advantage of the local espresso shop where we chatted for a bit with some other locals. They told us about the wolf problem and how they were decimating their elk herd as well as some insight into the local mining. Folks are serious about mining here. You don’t talk about it, ask about it or trespass. Considering all the open carry we are seeing, that’s probably good advice. 

The rest of the ride was incredible. We were climbing and descending for 8+ hours. A lot of the ride was across the mountain top which provided fantastic, if not harrowing views. Nothing like riding cycle in sand and rock up and down steep grades with no shoulder and drops of several hundred feet. 

We rolled into Burgdorf later than we hoped, but luckily the office was still open so we were able to get into our cabin for the night, Ann Marin. 2 beds, a table, wood stove, a couch and an outhouse. 

Dinner was some yummy freeze dried Chinese food compliments of Mark.

In the morning we took a dip/bath in the 100 degree pool and talked to one of the caretakers that moved there as a kid in the 60s from Rhode Island.

All in all, Burgdorf is a must stop. Bring your own adult drink of choice. 

I’m laying in bed at the Timber Inn in Pierce Idaho nursing a sore, possibly broken shoulder. The local Medical Clinic is not open on Saturdays so I grabbed some ice from the bar and a few shots and a few couple of beers. Anything to dull the pain.

I essentially locked up the rear brakes causing me to slide sideways (not a normal direction for a bike travel). Once in this sideways slide, I hit some rocks that caused me to immediately and forcefully slam to the earth. My helmet now has a nice chink in it. My left pannier is dented and not square. My crash bar is bent. My hand guard is split. All in all, the safety equipment worked but damn does my shoulder hurt.

Tomorrow we will try to push on to Wallace. If that goes okay we will press on and if it doesn’t, we will hop on the highway and head back to Park City.

Bob did have a Go Pro on his bike but sadly it didn’t capture the event. 

We woke up, had breakfast and were on the move from our camp at 8,000′. We took a short trip to find the Trinity Lookout tower and decided against making the ride up to the tower. The guy that mans the tower said last year was the first time he saw motorcycles up there, ever. Those guys were pros. So we figured we wouldn’t fare as well. Tough to see the tower in the pic, but once you took the road over that you can see, the ride is straight up on loose rock.

Our next challenge was the toughest yet. Pics don’t do it justice so I won’t post them. Think road closed to cars, not maintained, huge ruts and sand the whole way up. Certainly fun, but nerve racking. This led us to the 50″ bridge. You can figure out why it’s called that from the pic of Mark crossing. 

​​

​
From here things went south. Our intended route was closed due to fires. 

So we found another route. Also closed. Then another, also closed. This took us to Atlanta, which as Mark noted was a dead end. Another mining town in the middle of nowhere. 

We had to backtrack and reroute AGAIN. We finally found a route to Cascade, ID. Thinking the road seemed soft, Mark said ‘I think they must be grading the road’. Sure enough, within a mile, here comes the road grader. Pushing dirt, leaving a tall berm and about 2 foot for us to ride in. This worked for several miles. As I was rounding a corner I saw Mark struggling in deep soft dirt. Figuring I could find a better path I went into the corner lower than Mark, spun my  backend around and dropped the bike. I hit the horn and Mark quickly came running to help out. Luckily I was fine and got the bike back up myself much to Marks chagrin. Damage? None for me, but my pannier took a good shot and is pretty wonky now. 

From there, it was road to Cascade. Beautiful, cold, tired. We wrapped up 11 hours of riding and stayed in a nice 80s hotel where I was certain we’d see the wedding singer. 

Warm and freshly showered, we headed east to pick up the trail after our detour around the wildfires.

A few hours into the ride, we arrived in Yellow Pine for fuel. Upon entering town, we first notice a “golf course” and further up the street an espresso bar. This town was not going to disappoint.

We grabbed lunch at the Yellow Pine Tavern and chatted with some of the locals. The town is home to a huge harmonica festival and jeep and small airplane clubs hold events here.

Before leaving town, we stopped in for some espresso and met some more interesting folks. One man spent 15 minutes listing all the dirt roads we should explore. I definitely want to make it back to Yellow Pine someday.

The next section of the trail was a steady climb to 9000′ and then a steady drop into Warren (which we drove through without noticing the town). 

We arrived at The Burgdorf Hotsprings, checked into our cabin, lit a fire and settled in for a cold night.

I knew Day 2 was going to be an issue. The wild fires near Lowman are directly in our path.

The day started well enough. We woke up at 7am and it was 46 degrees inside the tent. I was looking forward to a dip in Big Trinity Lake but I couldn’t convince myself that the water was warm. We ate breakfast (rehydrated scrambled eggs), packed up camp and headed out.

We crossed many bridges, followed many creeks and climbed a rutted out sandy track to the 50″ bridge. We turned to the east as the route directed and encountered our first closed road due to the fires.

​

​
I suggested we head east and after 27 miles discovered my road around the fires was a hiking trail. We turned south towards Atlanta and discovered the road ended in Atlanta. We grabbed beers and lunch and then more beers. This did not solve our problem.

We inquired about gasoline and the guy at the end of the bar said he could get us some but it would cost us. This was no surprise so we waited for him to return.

He never returned. This did not solve our problem.

We backtracked to the 50″ bridge and made our way to Idaho City with one accident recorded. From there we headed to the heart of the fire and passed through with no injuries but did suffer minor smoke inhalation.

Now in Lowman and 9 hours of riding for the day, we spoke to a friendly Sherrif. He suggested a stay at the hot springs down the street.

Gluttons for punishment that we are, we pressed on for 2 more hours and the promise of a hotel in Cascade.

After we left Glenn’s Ferry we hit a ton of sand. On a bike, that’s ‘fun’. Fun watching Mark bobble left and right paddling his way through. I was certain he was going to drop the bike at this point. Alas, he made it through without a scratch, but the pucker factor was high. This lead us into the South Fork of the Boise River and the Anderson Ranch Reservoir. The view and drive down was awesome. Quite a bit of exposure here.

This lead us to Trinity Lakes where we setup camp for the night. The climb was several thousand feet but well worth it. Here’s a shot of Mark on the climb. 

​Camp

and a view of the lake before bed. 

Day 2 started well with a great breakfast in Jarbidge. Michelle (the host, cook, hotel staff, and town info booth) hooked us up with homemade bread and jams, and loaded our camelbaks with ice. Coffee in the restaurant is self serve, but if you grab the pot, you have to serve everyone. So we also got to meet Curry, who grabbed the pot and filled our cups. He’s been going to Jarbridge for 60 years. He let us know the road we were on that was closed provides frequent entertainment for locals. They often have to go up there to bring people down that can’t make it. That made us feel better. We also learned the town had 300″ of snow last year and that the road to Idaho was closed due to a car sized boulder that had to be dynamited to be removed. 

After fueling we got to see both Ron and Chris from the bar before we left. The fuel pumps were old school. Mark filing up. 

The Outdoor Inn. Bar, cafe, hotel. 

The ride out of Jarbidge through the canyon was great, leading us into the basin. Wide open spaces. 

​

​

We took a quick stop in Glenn’s Ferry for lunch before heading north towards Pine, ID. 

To be continued….

366 miles total today. 250 on paved road, 116 on dirt. One of us ran out of gas, lucky we had a spare fuel can. I decided I dislike highway riding. 

Here’s the route and the start of the dirt section in NV. 

 Once off road it was quite an adventure. Dirt, sand, loose rock, snakes, chukkars, deer, cattle, coyote (dead), hawks and an apparently closed road we took into the canyon that had the sign at the bottom where we turned into another road. Seems to make sense as it was the toughest section we were on today. The locals said it was a ‘good’ road. 

All of this got us to the start of the Idaho BDR, Jarbidge, NV. The Idaho state line is 10 miles north. What this town lacks in people (we were told 2 dozen) it makes up for in character. We met Dot, the bar/cafe owner, Laura the bartender, 82 year old Army vet Ron, who invited us to his 100th birthday in 18 years, 77 year old Chris, and Jimmy with the Hawaiian shorts. Great little town of primarily folks that hunt and fish.

After 8 hours of riding, a few beers, food, and homemade Irish Whiskey ice cream we’re dusty and beat. As I write this Mark is sawing wood. Like big wood. Forest maybe. I’m thinking we may be run out of town.

No mishaps today. So it’s been a success. I’m shocked to have a cell signal. The whole 1 bar.  We didn’t have one the last 4 hours. Next ‘town’ is 100+ miles away. All dirt to get there. 200 miles to our campsite tomorrow night at Trinity Lake, ID. Sounds like 8 hours of riding. 

Hopefully we’ll get enough signal somewhere tomorrow for Mark to load some of his pics.