Imagine you’re all snuggled up with your special someone, in a nice King-sized bed. Inside the room is toasty warm, and for now, you don’t even care about how it is outside, you’re just happy where you are.
Suddenly, there’s a loud blasting of horns and the sound of cars screeching.
That’s how day 2 began.
Peering outside from behind the drawn curtains revealed a few things. First, the noisy car culprits appeared to be what looked like a Hot Rod festival. The street was filled with people cheering as different cars tore down the road. Secondly, the weather was shite. Grey, rainy and bleak.
Turning around and seeing the huge bed I’d just hopped out of really did seem like a much better idea. And if I’m being totally honest, after the previous days ride, the motivation to continue was almost non-existent.
But, knowing that we had somewhere to be and loved ones to see was enough to get Henry and I up and running. Given the crappy weather we had to come up with some new plans so that our belongings wouldn’t be getting ruined on our upcoming ride. Unsure of why we hadn’t thought of it earlier, we took out the bike cover and wrapped it around our gear on the rear rack. We’d packed the bike in decent time and were in out wet weather clothes, but were still hesitant to start the looming 4-hour ride. We procrastinated our leaving time by visiting a bike shop and buying some supplies (better gloves for myself and anti-fog shield for the both of us) and enjoyed a prolonged breakfast at DQ.
At some point it became evident that the weather wasn’t going to get any better, so we began our second day of riding. We were heading up to a small country town near the Canadian border called Chinook – a town that I’ve spent a lot of time visiting since I was a little girl. I was very excited to be taking Henry to my second home and to introduce him to my adopted American family. The ride to Chinook from Great Falls is a fairly standard drive; the only part that we were worried about was the final half hour, where the road enters the windy Montanan plains.
Unfortunately, the conditions of the road weren’t as expected, and ten minutes into the ride we found ourselves driving on a gravel highway. Just in case you’d forgotten, we were riding a little 450cc Honda. The fact that the bike was able to function with two people and their luggage was amazing. However, as we approached the recently ripped up highway, it became very evident that the bike was not off-road equipped, so we wobbled our way down the road worked highway. When we finally made it to the end of the gravel road, we very happily pulled over for a quick recoup and took in the glorious sight that we were surrounded by. Montana is a state filled with endless beauty!
Luckily, the rest of the ride to Chinook went as planned. It was a bitterly cold day and the wind made it even more cold, but the ride was totally worth it when we arrived home, were greeted with cuddles and warmed up with cups of tea.
Henry and I enjoyed a few days in Chinook before heading back to Bozeman, via Helena. Where I’d be flying out East for a week, while Henry continued the motorbike trip solo until we were due to meet up in Portland.
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I hope you’re enjoying the tales of our first motorbike trip. The next instalment will feature a guest post by Henry, as he retells the week he spent riding from Bozeman to Portland alone.