Ketching-Up in Ketchum.

It wasn’t just any small mountain town with old money and $2500 season lift ticket prices.  It was the small mountain town where Ernest Hemingway wrote his famous “For Whom The Bell Tolls.”  In fact, I may just be sitting in the very motel where he first started writing it.  This motel due to its relative history to Hemingway has since been spared tearing down, in lieu of a larger and more income producing multiplex of apartments.  Thank gawd some folks still have sentimental appreciation for American and significant histories.  Hemingway evidently wrote a slew of stories here in this little town, which has spawned its modern day Hemingway Festival, which draws writers and literature enthusiasts from all around the globe to participate in its “writer things,”  (yes that’s the technical term.)  But yes Ketchum, Idaho, the home to Sun Valley: a very historic ski resort town.  Boasting top of the line lift boxes, a gorgeous historic lodge at the very top built between 1936-1939, and sky high lift prices, and year round entertainment, this place can draw the cream de la crem.  It’s also a great way to maintain the warm rich charm that its history, and its old money have grown to preserve.  

I’m here by the graces of the good road, visiting my long time best bud, Mike.  He is the head lift Mechanic at Sun Valley, here in Ketchum, Idaho.  Yesterday evening I rolled into town after spending the day exploring caves at “Crater on the Moon” National Park.  I pulled up to his motel complex and promptly off-roaded up and down all the banks until he popped out of one of the dwellings.  I unloaded my bike, and we went to a quaint little Irish pub.  I ordered a Guinness, he ordered a Sprite and the dinner was quite the delight.  Can I just say, I haven’t drinken Guinness since 2002.  After dinner Mike drove us up to the Ski lift and we got to ride the awesome enclosed chair-lift up the mountain, getting a gorgeous view of the night lights in the Valley towns, all the way out as far as little towns were illuminated.   I got to meet and visit with some of Mikes co-workers, who were operating the mountain for an evening gala.  I got a tour of the historic lodge and we were given free range of the deserts that were left over from the catered event.   It was so rad! I'd say my introduction to Ketchum is off to a great start.  Thanks Mike!   

Anyway, It’s neat getting to live and breath in an historic place.  It helps you appreciate, as well as enlighten you to things that you otherwise were unaware.  For myself, I never studied literature, so I didn’t get a good exposure to a lot of ancient poets or writers like Ernest Hemingway.  I’ve heard the title “For Whom The Bell Tolls” but never read it.  I guess you now know whats on my “to read” list. 

Ketchum, Idaho: This little valley is steeped in outdoor activities which I can’t wait to delve into over the course of the next few days here.  Hot springs, that are actually hot, unlike the luke warm ones in Hot Springs, South Dakota, where everyone kept saying “Hey these are kinda cold.”  Fly fishing is on the agenda, since I’ve been drooling all over the picturesque streams, riding all these northern states.  

I’m gonna also do some bike maintenance that I’ve been meaning to get to.  Primary adjustment/change, and oil and filter change.  My tires are showing their age on this trip.  I started with a bit more tread than I have now.  But I think I’ve got another 2000 miles left in em.  Low and Slow, that’s how I go. 

It’s just great to hang out with Mike.  And it was great just getting to be our old selves.  Here’s to reunions, and feeling at home in the company of old friends. 

If anyone wants to find me this afternoon, I'll be Paragliding from the top of the mountain.  Otherwise, I'll see you on the road.

~J.W Dirty and Free. 

Beartooth Highway, Yellowstone, Tetons

The freezing Glacial winds were whipping up the left side and the right side and across the top, threatening to knock me over its edges at any moment.  But I just kept counterbalancing against its attempts along those narrow and no guard-railed lanes, getting a little close to the edges many times. Swearing was an occasional friend of mine.  Beartooth Highway.  

I just can't believe that I ended up miraculously in a little town called Red Lodge, one evening by complete chance, just looking for a close place to camp.  And that the next morning I would find out it was the base and beginning of the Beartooth Highway.  This is a notorious highway evidently and I was a fortunate recipient and experiencee of its wild and wooly pathways.  And of course I underestimated the time it would take to complete it.  It started out fine and normal, climbing slowly up along a beautiful accompanying river and into a mountain valley, steadily getting higher with more picturesque views.  The next thing you know, the winds start picking up.  Then the switchbacks become more and frequent and tighter.   I'd ridden lots of tight roads, but complied with these winds, it became a whole new wonderful experience.  When I reached the top of the mountain, it was blowing hard across the top, and I found a patch of gravel to pull over, and access my leather jacket.  Folks had been taking pictures of the view and then getting comfortably in their cages and warmly and safely rolling away.  I did not have that luxury, nor to leave my bike kick-standed for too long, cause the winds would probably just take it right off of that.  I pulled my signature relief move, off the edge of my bike, in the presence of a few tourists, and I got back on the road.  Boy was that wind trying.  Overall  the switchbacks were great, watching for gravel and riding those carefully in the blown out corners.  There were a few gnarly spots.
 
 I finally get to this place called Top of the World.  A small log cabin with one old pump.  Inside it's full of fun stuff like mountain things, furs, sticks, weapons, patches and bumper stickers that say things like "I survived the Beartooth Highway." Yes, I bought that one.  I picked up a chocolate bar to give me back the carbs and calories I just burned.  And I entertained the staff with some songs that were running through my head at the time.  Although I wanted to take more time there, I knew I couldn't.  There were dark clouds building over these mountains and all I wanted was to get through and out from under them.  They looked like dumping clouds, and the last thing I wanted was that coupled with cold mountain air.

I was still 25 mountain miles from Yellowstone.  So I raced on.

I got gas in a cute town where bikers and other folks taking their time to enjoy things were shopping and eating in more log cabinesque dwellings.  But those dark clouds made me keep saying "just keep pushing on, you can always stop and set up shelter if it gets too bad."  Well as soon as I was on the road the drops came.  I always want to see how long they last.  Mostly just a little patch of cloud and you can roll through in seconds.  You dry quickly on the road anyhow.   I kept riding.

I flashed my Park Pass to the woman at the Yellowstone gate, and got my maps.  opened them up to the roads I'd be following and placed them on my "dash board,"  a little place under my handlebar bungee cords and back-up/old bubble shield.  It's a great design.

I was counting miles and constantly averaging arrival times with the pace of the tourism traffic.  The stop and go, let alone the slow looky-loo traffic.  It was fine, and I would have been them, had I not been trying to beat a brewing storm.  I made good use of those passing lanes as much as possible.  I was still able to take photos and video of the beautiful scenery, rivers, and wildlife from my motorcycle, as I was riding.  Photos don't do real life any justice anyway, and I try to take it in for myself as much as possible.  Yellowstone is really amazing.  I saw tons of folks fly-fishing gorgeous wide streams along the roadway.  I hear it's big for Cutthroat Trout.  I miss fly-fishing.

Somewhere in Yellowstone among the folks stopping to take photos at everything and cars clamoring for parking spots where there were none, I started to get sleet.  You know messy snow.  I jammed around any holdups.  I just kept saying "ain't nobody got time for this."  Thats my go to line, when I gotta just do my thing.  I finally got through those Yellowstone roads, and they opened up, and dropped down into a valley, and I was suddenly under sunny skies again.  I could relax.  I had no idea what the Tetons would be like, and I kept looking off into the distance going, are those the dark clouds I'm going under?  I'd just have to wait and see.  I stopped twice for gas, souvenirs, and talked with fun and engaging folks.

Then I was out of Yellowstone, and rolling through the Tetons.  Well not the way I thought it was gonna go, like riding through and over the mountains.  Instead the road takes you around the Tetons, from which you can see it's massive features, and smoldering hillsides.  It had been under fire recently and a lot of the forest was burned badly.  I got some footage as I rolled through its blackened aftermath.  Traffic was much smoother through Yellowstone.  Even though it did break suddenly for what appeared to be a young Moose at the roadside edge trying to jaywalk, the cute lil bugger.   I took the scenic forest backroad, following more folks looking to spot Moose along this route.  And I did get to see a cute little Moose butt, disappear into a thick of trees.  I just wanted to see more Moosies. I got to Katies cabin with plenty of light still in the sky, or at least the sun was trying to set behind the Tetons, but still definitely up.  She's a family friend from the home town and works at the Tetons.  We visited for a bit at the cabin and then made a run for some eyedrops and a beer at a nearby watering hole.  One and done, we headed back to the cabin and visited some more before sleep was calling us all.  I even took a shower.  The heat felt nice after a day of freezing through mountain passes.  And all the locals didn't think I'd make it to Jackson. Hahaha  Made it!

See you on the Road!

~J.W.

Devils Tower and Battle at Little Bighorn! 2016

Ok so today I was officially back to my solo DirtyFree2016 U.S. adventures.  After an awesome day of riding to Devils Tower and getting to camp at it's campground, I was off early to make it out to the infamous Battle at Little Bighorn, up in Montana.  I stopped at a rad roadside biker dive for a post breakfast beer, where I tried a lager that is made locally.  The bar was dark, dingy, and filled with ancient artifacts affixed to the ceiling.  The older woman running the place was tattooed like a leopard, and I was immediately in love.  Said she was from Huntington Beach originally.  I sat for a spell and chatted her and the cook.  Had the place to myself.  Then I was back on the road to the battlefield.  I'm a sucker for Indian Trading posts, so I pretty much stopped at anything with a Teepee and some furs in front of it.  Then before I knew it, after a quick pee down a dirt road in the forest, I was finally at Battle at Little Bighorn.  My nifty National Park Pass got me in.  I love this thing.  Spent a few hours there doing the 5 mile battle tour ride, exploring the museum, and hiking up the hill and around the monuments.  What an amazing piece of history.   I left with about 2 hours o daylight to ride, but that sun always goes down sooner than one expects, so it got darker, and the weather got colder, with much more crisp content to the air.  I rode till it was way to cold to not be wearing a leather jacket.  I was waving my arms around for blood flow.   But before any leather would go on, I would find myself at a campground in a mountain town in southern Montana, just outside Yellowstone, which would explain the sudden drop in temperature and loss of feeling in my finger tips.  I had nothing but help in this charming little town.  When I rolled up to get a tent camping spot, the hosts were like "you're kidding right?  In this cold weather?"  I said "you got anything better in mind?" The lady said "yeah, how bout a cabin?"  I said "how much?"  She said "30$"  and I said "sold."  Evidently anyone tenting in these parts freezes to death lately, so the fact that they offered me a cabin for 5$ more than what a tent camping site was gonna cost me, I feel like I just won the lottery. Haha   And  Maybe that's my mojo for saving the life of a 5 legged spider this morning.  It was a great day.



And keeping with the fun devils themed trip, the address of the campground just happened to be "6664" hahaha.

See you on the road!

I Love South Dakota!

Today was my favorite! Woke up in Keystone, after getting whiskey bent last night at the Red Garter Saloon. Mt. Rushmore was rad yesterday. Surreal seeing it after all these years of life. And the last couple days I've been just soaking up all the scenery and rides and experiences and haven't been posting updates, but here I am. Just finished rolling all over the Custer and Black Hills National and State parks scenic rides, like Spearfish Canyon, and Deadwood, getting to minigolf! Here in South Dakota. I got to do a fair amount of fishing, as I had set out to do. You know at least cast a line in a few gorgeous lakes using a really scary lure. But today right after riding through the gorgeous Needles highway, we jumped onto the Wildlife Scenic Loop through lower Custer state park, and that's where ALL the BUFFALO were. Right up close an personal. So personal that a mama buffalo decided to charge me. And I got to do some epic off-roading to avert her fury. I launched off the roadway into the adjoining field where all the buffalo were grazing. And I rode through an turned around on a gravel road and them headed back to the road. That mama buffalo was still there and there I was facing her. And I knew she'd charge again if I rode by her, so I gestured for a van to roll by and I'd roll around them so that mama buffalo wouldn't see me roll by. But she saw me scurry around and come out from behind it, and she made one last little lunge and I pretty much was just riding and weaving through all the stopped traffic and the thick of the herd surrounding the road. That was so much FUN!!!! Favorite experience so far. And the scenery, the bare rolling hills and sparsely laid forests, the babbling brooks rolling through open fields of grazing buffalo, and single lane bridges. Gorgeous. Just gorgeous.

Needles Hwy, Custer State Park, South Dakota.

I'm noticing this slumbering buffalo in the grass ahead of me,
while using natures restroom. 

All the BUFFALO.  All of em. 

Devils Tombstone

Camping at Devils Tombstone was a success.  I rolled in a little after 10 pm and families were already nestled into their campsites. Scattered glows of campfires beneath the dense forest canopy.  I decide to park my bike behind a large sign on the edge of the entrance parking lot, so that my bike isn't easily seen.  I first get my camo tarp draped, so I can conceal my headlamp while I get the tent tied to my bike.  I crawl inside the tent and try to close my eyes, but I can hear the strolling voices of some Irish tourists. Or at least I like to assume they are.  I'm set up between the sign and a park bench, other benches are scattered about 100 feet from one another on a large picnic area.  Some late night campers gather at one of the neighboring tables to discuss how their sons look just like them, how easily it would be for them to go down the wrong path at any moment in their youth, how much that scares them, and to smoke heavily on some weed which the fathers are passing amongst themselves.  I find the whole thing very endearing.  One of them says "is that a motorcycle over there?" My front tire pokes out from the front of my tarp.  I'm ready to shank anyone who approaches my tent.  They realize someone is probably sleeping g under that mess of tarp, and they ease up on their flashlights and conversation to make their way back to their accommodations.  I again try to shut my eyes.  The sounds of buzzing and cricketing and chirping things roars all night in this Catskills land.  I wake up at 2am to what I think might be a growling animal a ways off.  I imagine a yogi bear coming to scrounge for picnic scraps, hoping it doesn't smell nor desire my richly odorous "Parmigiano Reggiano" naturally imported from Italy. I think the store was trying to move it off the shelves because it was so cheap.  Got to love those markdowns.  My 5am alarm was too early so I reset t for 6 and then consecutively 7, and that's when the Asian tourists rolled up, and I finally succumbed to the warming of the morning and a committal to rolling up my camp.  I whisked off a couple friendly little 8 legged wayward hitchikers from the motorcycle, and I utilized my picnic bench for breakfast. Devils Tombstone was a success.

DirtyFree 2016: Road Trip

Ive been in NYC for two weeks, namely enjoying my "visitor" status, and wrapping up, or at least trying to wrap up some loose ends.  Don't you just love loose ends?  Stuffing keepsakes into a large green Seabag to mail home, and whether or not to mail home a game of Settlers of Catan, or bring it with me on the road.  Life's pending questions.

       It's sunny and hot as hell back in California right now, and the east coast has been some rain, mostly nice, and now the humidity and thunderstorms are upon me.  I had this whole week cut out to take off, and I'm fairly ready with everything, but dealing with utilities that are in my name, and a good day to cut out between the days of eastern seaboard thunderstorm.  See I'm headed right along the route of traveling storm, from Brooklyn to Boston.  Thats how the clouds like to flow.  That's my first leg.  I'll be camping at Provincetown, MA before I get to Boston, cause I wanna cozy up with the folks who live where the Pilgrims landed.  And I hear they know how to "get down."  The drinks will flow.

In the meantime, I'm sitting on the couch, next to two pairs of fresh underwear and socks that I just folded, and they're about to get stuffed into my gear.  I was able to compile a simple set of minimalist gear for this trip, granted I don't have too many 0 degree nights, I'm mainly layering small for compactness.  Here's what my items consist of:
*Hammock
*Mosquito Net
*Tarp
*Spring sleeping bag 50deg
*Waterproof bivy sack, compact & light.
*Tent:  (I tailored a tent to make it much smaller.)
*Cowboy Duster coat, full-length, freshly waxed
*Guitar: I go everywhere with my Martin Mini.  I sewed extra pockets on to it for all my nicknacks.
*Stove: the size of a mug.
*Tools: fits into pouch top of my forks.
*Oil filter, and Primary oil (the good stuff).
*anything else I can stuff into cracks and crevices, probably more tools.

And that's about it!  My rig is fairly light and I love that.  Because the less I feel I have to lift with my left leg, the better.  Lucky for me, the two days I rode around on the bike, the leg rode great, and actually liked its riding position.

Two weeks ago I did a maiden voyage, 3 months from my Knee busting, and finally reunited with my bike.  I leisurely rode down to Rockaway Island, and did the whole little spit from Fort Tilden and Rockaway Point, down along Atlantic Beach, Long Beach and out to Jones Beach.  That's when the rains finally caught up to me.  I had been doing a good job of staying in front of them and under the bluish sky, but it was finally as far as I was gonna go that day.  I had a nice slow trafficy ride back to Brooklyn in the steady rain.  There was a good amount of splitting lanes cause that shit can get pretty ridiculous at times.  But I got home, and I felt great that my leg performed nicely, maybe an ache here and there, but over all, I felt ready to get this puppy on that long adventure to the west coast, via the Northern States.  I've been stoked about doing this for a long time.  I'll write periodically from the road.  But in the meantime, that's my digs, and I hope to see and hang with great peeps all across my route.

See you on the Road.

J.W. Dirty and Free.

Hahaha Birthday.

         I just had a Birthday on the 19th.  Unlike every uneventful birthday before, I was bound and determined to make this feel like a real event filled birthday.  You know, a real birthday, where you invite all your elementary school friends to the pizza parlor and sit there by yourself, while nobody shows up.  Well, instead of risking that sort of an evening, being as I have practically zero contact with anybody these days, due to hermit/loner/nomad status, I just was gonna wing into some solo activities.   Nothing says "nobody can screw this up" like some activities all by yourself.  
         So there I was rolling into Tuesday morning, ramped up, excited, it was my birthday, and I was gonna do everything I wanted to, given a knee injury that at the moment has me limited to a few ranges of activities.  First things first.  I woke up, went down stairs and spied by guitars sitting against my amp.  So what did I do?  Of course I played the most rocking version of Happy Birthday to Me!!! I was a most excellent song.  I wish you could have been there.  Then, since I didn't get to partake in weekend movie release activities, I decided to save it for my Birthday.  And low and behold there I was seeing Ghostbusters 3D at 1pm.  My mom didn't really want to go, so I was able to talk someone out of doing house chores to go to the movies with me.  I got a hotdog, and popcorn, and a giant soda. And then it was like every trip to a movie theater for me, where I end up screaming and swearing and laughing aloud at all the action.  And holy crap 3D was excellent.  I really enjoyed that movie.  That went for a good long time and I didn't get home until about 4 something.  This was time to ice and elevate my knee, and respond to birthday messages on the dreaded FB.
         For an early dinner Me, Mom and Dad all went to this new BBQ joint for dinner.  I ordered a giant serving of Beef Brisket, take notes, which is my favorite food in the entire world, cause it is so damn good.  Then right after we cleaned our trays, we rolled on up the hill to Twain Harte Mini Golf, where we putted the entire course, of course.   That was tons of fun.  Because if you didn't know I love Mini Golf!  And naturally I got a sweet 'Twain Harte Miniature Golf' hat to commemorate my birthday experience.  Then we headed down the hill to wrap up the day with some classic Baskin Robbins 31 flavors.  I went out on a limb and instead of getting my Daiquiri Ice, I got Mint Chip.  

Part 5: It wasn't until about 1am, that I ran to the bathroom to, well, guess what, Food poisoning, and all the little joys that go with that.   The next morning, I'd verified with everyone who'd eaten at the BBQ place how they were feeling the next day.  Everyone ate all the same stuff, and felt fine.  So then, I was like "I had that hotdog for lunch at the Theater."  My body was all achy and I had chills, a slight fever, and I hadn't eaten or barely drinken a thing all day.  In fact I basically tried to just sleep it off, and good thing my mom was there, cause moms make the best nurses, fact.   Thursday was a total "lets try easy foods, and get rehydrated." That proved to be the trick.  Because I was feeling fine by the evening, and I had a bean burrito for dinner.  Friday morning is where I am right now, packing for NYC and sharing this so I'm not holding onto it.  

Now, I usually like to have what I call a "Birthday week," but not in the sense that I spend most of it recovering from food poisoning.  So there you have it.  My hilarious birthday.  I found it to be hilarious at least.  Come on you can all laugh with me, cause I sure am.  Good thing too, cause was not looking forward to rescheduling this flight.   And photos are always the hardest thing for me to upload, since I rarely have my phone and computer synched.  So here ya have my classic "photos coming later."

Alright y'all, have fun, and don't eat the hotdogs at the theater. hahaha

See ya on the Road.  p.s.  Let's hope my leg holds up for a cross country trip.  That just reminded me to wear my leg brace for the trip.