Healy-Guttman Blog

It all started with my Dad dropping the motorcycle off at UND last spring semester, and ended up with 3 days or riding West. Then again at the end of the summer I rode East for 3 days, totaling 54 hours of riding in one summer.

On the ride to Whidbey island back in May, I took the US 2 highway all the way home, my first stop was on the North Dakota/ Montana border at the Lewis and Clark memorial park near Williston. The ride that day was abnormal in the way that I had to lean into the 15 knot crosswind, which at 85+ MPH can be scary, so I did the 500 or so miles at around 75 MPH, it was a good easy start despite the constant strain against crosswind. It rained that night at the campground, but cleared up in the morning light; still, packing up a wet tent (and drying it the next day) were a forewarning and reminder, respectively, of day two.

The second day would prove to be the scariest and most trying of them all, it was my trek across Montana in a torrential downpour and cold temperatures. Every hour or so I would need to stop and regain feeling in my extremities, namely my hands. And driving with no feeling in your fingers and combating a sidewind for 10 and a half hours was pressing my limits. My Dad had compared his journey on the bike to being just as difficult and cold as climbing Mt. Whitney (I think that is the mountain), and my ride was equally as bad as his, where he had bitter cold, I had being wet and going fast. There was one part of the ride that brought some much needed humor though, and that was when I entered the Fort Peck Indian reservation. As I was merrily riding along, I reached the top of a small hill and started on my way down, suddenly out from the side of the road, a bird got spooked and flew out, but instead of flying away, it hit me in the face. I was seriously dazed at first, but afterwards found it quite funny, and when picking feathers from my helmet felt somewhat bad for the poor bird. That night I arrived in Hungry horse, MT, and decided to avoid the mass of mosquitoes and an expected thunderstorm by renting a small cabin in a campground near Glacier park.

The third day was the longest at 12 hours, but the easiest in relation to the prior two days. I had brunch at “Jack’s Cafe” in a small town in Idaho where I swear I saw the living impersonation of John Wayne.

Fast forward three months, and I am taking a slightly different route back to Grand Forks, ND. My first night’s stay is in Pullman, WA, where I spent time with my girlfriend Jennn in her new apartment on the campus of WSU. The ride wasn’t particularly exciting, but I did do about an hour of night riding, which requires keen attention for animals, even the smallest of which can throw you off balance resulting in something neither of the two parties wants.
The second day I took US 12 to Montana, and the 200 and 87 north up to Havre, MT. This has been the best day of riding for me out of the entire two trips, with many twisties and beautiful scenery. At one point on the 87, about 200 miles south of Havre, I saw an old, deserted school house off in the distance in the middle of nowhere. I slowed down as fast as the 850 lbs of metal and gear would allow when I spotted a dirt road leading to it, it was deeply rutted where trucks had attempted to pass in wet conditions, but summer allowed squirrelly driving.

The third day was the same as the first day of riding 3 months ago, except this time I was leaning to the left instead of the right. I got to the fraternity house around 6 PM after a solid 10 hours of riding and proceeded to unpack and attempt to socialize in my zombie-like state.
I write now after my first day of classes (Tuesday), and uploading photos from the trip and my room,

Yeah, I cook too. I have so far cooked bratwursts with my George foreman for dinner, and used the hot plate and a frying pan to make some omelettes this morning for me and my roommate. I look forward to school, flying, and living in a fraternity, this year should prove pretty fun.