Grand Junction CO to Yellowstone NP
Saturday August 12, 2017
(~795 miles)

I was up with my alarm at 04:15. The hotel had agreed to serve the rally riders an early breakfast starting at 05:00, so I got my bike packed and went in for some grub. I chatted with another rider while downing a quick meal and some coffee, then went out to get in line by the appointed time at 05:30.

I realized to my dismay that I hadn’t filled my fuel tank the previous evening. Luckily there was a gas station right in the adjacent parking lot, so with a minute to go before line-up deadline, I scooted over lickety split and performed one of the fastest fill-ups in my life, in full view of all the rally riders already lined up and waiting for the start (so my thinking went – nobody probably paid me any mind). I then took my place in line, provided my odo reading when requested, and joined the chatter with my fellow riders until it was time to go.

At 0600 precisely, Dale “Warchild” Wilson, who was on the rally staff, begin his famous aircraft carrier gesticulations, pointing at riders when it was their time to head towards the parking lot exit and hit the road for the next 32 hours.The hotel is right next to I-70, so it was a quick couple of turns to hit the interstate heading west.

My first proper bonus wouldn’t be for a couple hundred miles in Salt Lake City, but I planned to aggressively hunt down the letters I needed to spell Heaven And Hell in order to ensure I collected one wildcards for each of those three words. The first opportunity came with the town limit sign for Fruita (for the letter A), right next to Grand Junction, and several Riders had pulled to the side of the highway to get their first photo. It’s a bit blurry but readable.
The sky was beautiful as the sun rose and I snapped a couple quick pics over my shoulder as I headed down the interstate. The next stop was the state border, where I collected a shot of the Leaving Colorado sign and then the Entering Utah sign just a couple hundred yards later. Each sign was worth double duty, both for letters and for proof of being in at least two states so far for the STATES combo.

I had started from near the end of the line, so most of the riders had blasted on ahead, never to be seen by me again during the rally. I did see a few others as I continued to collect letters from county and town border signs, sometimes passing them and then getting passed when I stopped for a picture. I picked up my first church BOLO bonus in Wellington UT.


I picked up a couple more letters and a church en route to Provo, where I hoped to find a city limits sign for the  letter V that I needed – I knew it would be the toughest letter to find. Unfortunately I either missed the welcome sign or Provo is too spread out to care about explicitly defining it’s city limit on the highway.

During my last minute planning, I had noticed another town on the map with the letter V shortly before Salt Lake, called Riverton, that appeared to be pretty close to the interstate. When I approached exit signs for this town, I debated briefly about skipping it and trying to find a V later in the route. The area was fairly urban, and I was concerned about losing time in traffic, but I decided to go for it and just get it out of the way to have less to think about later. I ended up taking the wrong exit to get to Riverton and then it turned out being  a couple of miles off the highway, which seems an eternity when you are in a rush and having to ride ~35mph.

I completely missed the Welcome to Riverton sign the first time I rode by and had pulled a U-ey to get back to the highway. I then caught sight of the sign and pulled another quick U-ey to get my photo. It all felt very sloppy to my rally-juice addled brain and was probably a 20 minute time suck to get that letter V – time that I would regret by the end of the day.

Shortly thereafter, I passed through Salt Lake City and arrived at my first Heaven bonus at the oldest church in Utah, the Bountiful Tabernacle.  A few other riders were there just finishing getting their photos –  they must have passed by while I was dawdling in Riverton. I got my photo and had a quick snack after this first relatively long stretch from HQ.

I spotted another church on my way out of town and then picked up I-84 heading east.

My next stop was my first Hell bonus: a cool rock formation known as Devil’s Slide near Morgan UT, right along the interstate. There was a pull out for viewing the slide, which I somehow missed and then quickly pulled over near the on ramp.  I parked the bike and ran back a little way for a better view and got my photo.

I followed I-84 to the state border and stopped for a photo of the Wyoming sign, proving entry into my third state of the rally and collecting yet another wild card letter (N).

After passing through Evanston, I got off the interstate to follow US 189 north, which consisted of long straight stretches of fast two-lane in the middle of nowhere. You could see for miles, and I kept my eye on a few storm cells in the distance that might prove to be troublesome up ahead. Near the town of Kemmerer, I made a tactical mistake as the GPS had me divert around the city on US 30 and WY 240. If I had stayed straight on 189, I may have decided to stop for fuel as I passed by a station. As it was, out of sight out of mind and my lack of local knowledge is now evident, as I figured at the time that I’d probably reach another town with fuel by the time I needed it.

After passing through Opal and rejoining with US 189, I punched up nearest fuel stops on my secondary GPS, and there seemed to be one called “Fontenelle Store” roughly 16 miles ahead, which I calculated was within my remaining range. Whatever coordinates Garmin had in mind, it wasn’t on this highway and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the main road to explore with low fuel. I was close to the point of no return of going back to Kemmerer, but the GPS showed another fuel possibility 20 miles ahead in some town named LaBarge, and I had about 35 miles left on my tank range. I decided to keep moving forward. There HAD to be gas!

Around this time, some of the clouds were closing in, with an occasional drop hitting the windshield. I came up on what could only be another rally rider based on the gear, and stopped to make sure he was okay. He was just taking a sec to make himself waterproof, so I continued on. I passed through a brief shower that caused me to stop to zip up my own vents and the other rider leapfrogged by me this time.

My eyes were glued to my instruments as I paced about a mile behind my fellow rider, trying to keep my speed down to conserve fuel. My fuel gauge continued to recalculate how many miles I had left in the tank, and the calculations were not in my favor, gradually reducing toward the number of miles I had left to reach LaBarge , whatever it was. The scenery was beautiful as we skirted the Fontenelle Reservoir, but I registered it subconsciously as my eyes were peeled for any sign of a gas station ahead.

I pulled up behind the other rider at the town limit sign for LaBarge (might as well get the photo!) with my fuel gauge now showing 0 miles to empty. My odometer read 40,666 – I kid you not! LaBarge was my only hope at this point. The town had some sort of community festival happening (of course!) and had the main highway blocked off to through traffic, increasing my anxiety. I followed the designated detour route through a small residential area and back to the highway… right next to a gas station!  I pulled in, feeling mighty relieved and also ashamed for allowing this things to get this close – mental error!

After filling up, I struck off down the road, immediately collecting another letter at the county line, though I was fairly certain that I had all the letters I needed at this point. The pavement was wet from recent rain, and looking off to the right I could see the heavy downpours that must have just passed through, soaking a nearby hill.

Another fifty miles or so north brought me to my next Heaven bonus, which required riding a few miles of gravel road to a small shrine atop a hillside where Father DeSmet apparently conducted the first Mass in Wyoming.

There were several markers present, so I got a few different pictures with my rally placard just in case. The other rider showed up and needed a hand getting his bike turned around on the dodgy gravel and grass slope, which I was happy to help with.

Rode back out to the highway and continued north on US 189 for another 30 or 40 miles. The next bonus was in the Hell category –  the Granite Hot Springs pool located at the very dead end of an 11 mile gravel road. I was prepared mentally from reading the rally pack – nothing to it but to do it!

So I embarked on the longest stretch of unpaved road I’d been on to-date with the ST – and passed through what looked like heaven to get to Hell. The views from this road included some of the most beautiful scenery I’d seen on this trip or perhaps ever. Mountains close by framed the scene of a crystal clear stream running parallel to the road, with steam rising from the banks in random places from the hot spring activity.

There were campgrounds and other recreational areas along this road, so I encountered a few RVs and other vehicles, but I was able to pass the slower ones without issue as it wasn’t exactly rush hour and people seemed happy to pull over and slow down to let me by. I stayed focused on the road ahead and kept up a light throttle to keep the wheels turning and momentum moving forward over the loose surface. I should really take a dirt training course some day.

I parked in the lot at the end of the road, obeying the signs not to drive further, and hiked the final .2 miles or so to the pool, which to my surprise was actually a man-made pool (in the middle of the wilderness) to capture the hot springs water for bathing.

I realized I could have ridden my bike that last quarter mile to the handicapped accessible parking closer to the pool, so I hailed my fellow rally rider on his way in to provide that little tidbit to save him some walking. I half-wished my rally was over at this point so I could soak in that pool and stream, and bask in this beautiful wilderness. This is a place I must revisit some day.

Adrenaline prevailed, however, and I scooted my way back to the highway to continue my quest. Soon I passed through Jackson Hole, which reminded me a lot of a bigger Lake Placid NY – beautiful surroundings and charming historical qualities, but almost overshadowed with throngs of tourists and a shopping mall and carnival-like atmosphere. I was glad to just get through it. The next several miles presented amazing views of the Tetons mountain range, which looked like you could just reach out and touch them from the road.

The next Heaven bonus was actually just inside Tetons National Park, so I flashed my annual pass and made it quickly to the small Chapel of the Transfiguration, which presented a nice vista with the Tetons in the background.

I stopped for gas at the trading post just outside the park and continued north on US 191 toward Yellowstone, with the Tetons continuing to dominate the horizon. The views of the mountains across Jackson Lake were stunning, but I was now focused on passing slow-moving traffic and getting to Old Faithful – it was my final daylight-only bonus and I needed to photograph it while it was erupting. I had a website called geysertimes.com punched up on my smartphone that I was checking periodically throughout the day. It lists the exact time of each geyser eruption in real time, as well as a prediction of the next time based on recent averages – currently about every hour and a half. Unfortunately, it looked like I was going to be 40 minutes late.

I managed to make up some of this time as I rode through the park, and was perhaps 10 miles away or 20 minutes out when the website updated to show that the gyser had just gone off! This is where I began second-guessing my earlier decision to pursue that Riverton sign near Salt Lake.  If I had made it to this last eruption, I could have spent minimal time at the geyser and would have been well on my way to the next bonus at Beartooth Pass by nightfall and everything that was about to happen… probably wouldn’t have happened.

I briefly considered just riding on and using one of my wildcards for the Old Faithful bonus, which was a Hell bonus worth -99 points. I had already ridden the miles so I would still get my 1700 mile ride, and if I stayed I would be stuck waiting here for at least an hour, pretty much guaranteeing having to skip the rest bonus later that night. I finally decided to stick around and see the eruption, figuring the wildcards were better used for higher value Hell bonuses. On a less pragmatic level, I’d always wanted to see Old Faithful and here I was!
I found a place to park near the front of the lot with some other motorcycles, now taking my time to gather my thoughts as I had over an hour to wait. BTW, there are some pretty huge ravens that hang around the park and I watched a few squabbling over bits of food.

After having a quick snack, I moseyed over to the geyser viewing area and camped out on one of the benches, which were mostly empty in between predicted eruptions. I reviewed my progress thus far, double-checking my photos and confirming that I had indeed gathered all the Heaven and Hell letters I needed – that’s three wildcards already in the bank!

I had a good cell signal here, which I figured they must provide for tourists, and I was able to communicate with my wife and friends a bit and update them on my status. As the predicted eruption time approached, more and more onlookers appeared out of the woodwork to join me on the benches, but it never really felt truly crowded.

Old Faithful erupted right on schedule this time, at 19:45, and it was a lot quieter than I had imagined, with a fizzing and popping sound. This would be the last eruption of the day during daylight, and I got my rally picture and took a few more for good measure, watching the varying force of water being sprayed out of the hole in the ground. Realizing there would be a rush for the roads after this was over, I hightailed it back to the bike to get moving again before the crowds.

I now headed for the Northeast Entrance of the park, where US 212 dipped briefly up into Montana through the towns of Silver Gate and Cooke City, where I planned to get a receipt showing entry into my fourth state of the rally (and completing my STATES combo). As the sun dipped lower towards sunset, I made good time getting through the rest of the park, passing other vehicles where allowed. I knew there are plenty of animals around, and I wanted to get out of the park before complete nightfall, if possible.

It became clear soon enough that I would not make it out by dark, and I began to use my high beams including powerful auxiliary lighting, when there was no oncoming traffic. This basically turned night into day, giving me a very good view of the road ahead. Due to the brightness of my LED lighting, even on low beam, sometimes I get flashed by oncoming traffic who think I have the high beams on (they usually regret this when I flash back). This happened a few times as darkness fell and I thought nothing more of it. I was riding along doing perhaps a few miles over the 45 mph limit, less than 10 miles from the border, when an oncoming park ranger vehicle in a line of oncoming traffic momentarily flashed their top lights. I took the hint and slowed down to the speed limit – at least I thought that was the hint.

It was full dark out as I came around a gradual sweeping left hand curve, with hillsides on the left and some open plain off to the right of the road, best that I could tell. I could see a line of car headlights up ahead, and they simply registered as more oncoming traffic, thus forcing me to stick with my low beams. The road then curved gently to the right, facing the oncoming traffic directly and as I slightly rolled on the throttle coming out of the curve I realized that all these cars were stopped on the opposite side of the road. My lights picked out a guy waving his arms over his head on the other side of the road and shouting what might have been ”in the road”  before my attention went back ahead of me and my eyes barely picked out a mass of light and dark brown fur completely blocking my lane.

Things seem to go into slow motion for a few seconds, and I fully realized it was a bison even as I swerved slightly left at the last second, and plowed into his hindquarters.