|09-14-2010, 07:29 PM||#1|
Joined: Nov 2008
Location: Billings, MT
Yaak, because I've never been there.
There exists in our minds the names of places we've heard and wondered to ourselves, "What's it like there?" Some bring connotations of the worst, like who wants to go to Sioux City to visit the stockyards?
Yaak, for me anyway, has had an allure since I first heard the name 15 years ago when I moved to Montana. It's about as far away as you can get in the state and is just up the road from the lowest point in Montana at 1,820 feet above sea level on Hwy 2 at the Idaho border. I have now been there and to the top of the Beartooth Pass. No sign posted to mark this topographical milestone, consequently, no pic. A motorcycle parked under a sign that says Hwy 2 just doesn't do much for me. Why waste a pixel on an SD card for that?
I have some on the Beartooth, but those are pretty commonplace on the net. I find it a holy obligation to ride the Beartooth and Chief Joseph Highway at least once a year.
About 95% of this mini-trip was done on two lane highway and dirt back roads. I've made a commitment to myself to see as much of Montana as possible before shedding expensive rubber on other states' roads.
To Yaak & beyond:
I left Billings via Hwy 3, running north to Hwy 12, then west to Townsend. High upon a hill overlooking the town and Canyon Ferry Lake (a wide spot in the Missouri River), I saw this:
A fitting tribute, since it was this site that got me off a Road King and into the wonderful world that exists beyond the tarvy.
I passed up some chow just before getting to camp and settled for my own cooking:
Short story shorter, I stopped for the night at Placid Lake State Park, just south of Seeley Lake.
Morning, or how Placid Lake got its name. Pic taken from my campsite:
Next day, it was off to meet up with Chains45 in Thompson Falls and go on from there. I took the back road (FR349) out of Placid and rode up the Jocko River Drainage. About 40 miles of one lane, beautiful scenery, gravel, pot holes, freshly repaired washouts and bear scat.
Once out, I hit Hwy 200, the Garmin wasn't kidding:
Love is blind, marriage is an eye-opener.
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