Sunday morning found me waking a bit late, so I skipped breakfast, gassed up (28.5 MPG) and made my way into Montana. You gotta love a place with no speed limits on the Highways. Unfortunately, it was Sunday, so my desire to open it up was offset by my need to conserve fuel. A major portion of the ride today would be on a 220 mile stretch of state roads between Billings and Great Falls, and there wasn't any way to predict how many open gas stations I would find.
Entering Montana on I-90 immediately places you in the Crow Indian Reservation. It's a large reservation, and there isn't much for the traveler to see except for the Little Big Horn Battlefield.
That's a solemn place, as it should be, being a reminder of what almost always happens when vastly different cultures clash. Without a doubt, the majority of Native Americans, along with the Settlers and Pioneers, all wanted the same thing. In fact, I firmly believe that the majority of humanity all wants the same thing. Just a lifestyle sufficient to raise a family in reasonable comfort, a little time off now and then, and a enough culture to provide a little mental stimulation and recreation once in a while. Unfortunately, there is a small percentage of humans in all cultures who are not satisfied with the simpler pleasures. A few want to dominate everyone else, a few want to own everything, and a some get off on violence and inflicting pain. If it wasn't for the greed of a few, despite their dissimilar cultures the Native Americans and the Settlers could have for the most part coexisted peacefully. There would have still been isolated problems in some areas, and of course many of the Native Americans would have succumbed to new diseases, but not nearly as bad as what eventually unfolded.
The majority of the pioneers and settlers just wanted a plot of land to farm with a little grazing area for a few head of livestock. The real problems arose with the greedy few who were determined to control vast stretches of land to graze thousands of cattle. Vast herds of bison compete with your cattle for grazing land, and diminish your profits, so you have to get rid of them. You can't really blame the Native Americans for fighting the influx of the "white man" under those circumstances. When you're faced with the destruction of your entire way of life, you either fight or become extinct. It's not the first time in human history this has happened, and it sure as hell wasn't the last either. As bad as it was, at least there still remains some large reservations under Indian control, and there is still a substantial population in this country. But what does all this have to do with a bike trip? OK, I'll move on.
One marker picqued my interest, and a close inspection revealed a familiar name. I wonder if the National Park Service will be erecting a similar sign in Waco, Texas?
I stopped for a late breakfast and gas on the reservation (35.6 MPG). Damn fine blueberry pancakes. The waitress was a lovely, delightful Native American girl, probably high school age. She was surprised that I finished the pancakes, since they were so huge. While sitting there enjoying the coffee my mind flashed back to the Kevin Costner movie, and after a bit of solemn reflection, decided my Indian name would be "Dances with Syrup". After breakfast, I talked a bit with an elderly couple on a 1200 Goldwing towing a trailer. He was fairly small, and knowing the older models didn't have reverse, my curiosity led me to ask him how he handled backing that sucker up. He said he never backed it up, even when he didn't have the trailer! If there wasn't enough space to circle and park the bike pointing out of the parking area, he just went somewhere else! Now that's a creative solution!
Leaving Billings, the shortest route on the map towards Glacier National Park was State Road 3. These roads are always a gamble. You get more of the local flavor, but the road conditions vary wildly, as I soon found out. Major stretches of this road were being rebuilt, with mostly hard packed dirt and many loose dirt and gravel sections. My only difficulties arose when an oncoming truck would approach, which forced me to move over one track. That was always a bit dicey, but I never did take a spill. This had me feeling pretty good about my newly acquired dirt bike skills until---Don't tell anyone, but at one point I was actually passed by a lady in an old Volvo! How embarassing! There are those few isolated times when four wheels are better than two.
Passing through the alleged towns of Acton and Broadview confirmed my earlier suspicions. Neither had an open gas station (actually, I think one of them didn't even have a gas station). the next town, Lavina, did have one station, and it was open. The bike didn't really need gas that bad yet, but it would have been foolheardy to pass up any stations on this stretch. After topping off (31 MPG), I went East on Hiway 12, just cruising along at 85-90 MPH, enjoying the wide open view. It is obvious why Montana is called "Big Sky Country". That's pretty much all you see. I was looking forward to seeing the night sky in this area. Although the map showed towns named Slayton, Ryegate, Barber, and Shawmut, I don't recall seeing them. Perhaps I blinked or something. Harlowton had a large gas station with food, so I fueled myself as well as the bike (32 MPG). My mileage had improved a bit despite the speed due to a stiff tailwind. I won't bore you with every little town or stop the rest of the day. The remainder of the day took me north on 191, then 87 to Great Falls, followed by I-15 to Shelby. The majority of the time was spent between 85 and 90 mph whenever the road conditions permitted. That entire strectch came in at 29.4 mpg.
The gas mileage on the entire trip really surprised me. I normally commute at 70-75 MPH with 80 % of my mileage being Highway, and I usually average 40-42 MPG. I never realized how much of a penalty that extra 10 to 15 MPH cost you. Then again, my previous traveling machine, a 91 Ford Explorer, was a real gas hog at any speed, so who cares!!
Game 4 of the NBA playoffs was coming up soon, so I checked into a motel in Cut Bank. Had a fantastic fried chicken dinner, a couple of beers (honest officer, just a couple), then back to the motel room for some basketball. Normally, I am not a hoops fan, but the NBA finals are fun. Given the choice, I prefer watching Women's basketball, mainly because their game is more at my level. It reminds me of the old high school games. Passing, layups, no dunking. The men's game is so far evolved that it's hard to conceive of playing at that level. However, it's not often you get to see an athlete as gifted as a Michael Jordan, and there's no telling how many more opportunities there will be in the future. Also enjoyable was the spectacle of Dennis Rodman vs. the entire state of Utah. Where else but in America??
After the game, I went outside to see the night sky, but it seemed a bit overcast, and there was too much lighting in the area, so I gave up the stargazing, went back in and studied the maps a bit, then called it a night.
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