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Steve’s Legendary New Years Day
2003 Montana Winter Ride
Page 1 - The Long
Ride ~ Page 2 - The Legend Ride ~ Page 3
The Ride Home
Thursday morning on January 2, 2003
"Leaving the Big Sky Country"
It's 4:00 a.m. in my motel room and the challenge of riding out of the Big Sky Country was
now here. I felt like I was a storm chaser or was it chasing me. Winter
storm warnings were posted all though Idaho and going back through
Lookout Pass was not an option. If I rode back the way I came, I would
be riding right into another major winter snow storm and my second day would consist
of riding home in a Pacific Northwest rainstorm. There has got to be a
better way! I called my friend in Dillon, Montana, the night before to
talk about the conditions of Monida Pass (6,823 foot) and he just simply
said, "well, you're going to have strong winds and blowing snow." In my
mind, that sounded good to me (more of a challenge) so I planned out my
route. On Thursday morning, 4:30 am, I headed south to Butte and then
hung a right on I-15 which took me through Dillon and over Monida Pass
and into Idaho Falls, Idaho.
I stopped in Dillon to visit my long lost friend
who use to live in Mount Shasta. He told me some wild hunting stories
while his wife filled me up with good Montana coffee. You can never
believe hunting stories as they are always exaggerated but after looking
at the racks on his wall, this proved to me that he was telling the
truth. It was a great visit, but I had to move on and get over Monida
Pass while there was still daylight.
 On
the Montana side of Monida was exactly as my friend described, blowing
and drifting snow but to my surprise, there was very little ice on the
road. I started to get more confident as I was able to keep my speed at
around 50 mph and blast right through the icy winds and blowing snow
with no problem. Little did I know that my confidence would soon crumble
as I crossed over into Idaho. The top of the pass is a divider between
Montana and Idaho and that's why they call if Monida.
 I
stopped at the border to take a few pictures and as soon as I took my
gloves off, my fingers instantly froze. My air temperature gauge on the
bike said 15 degrees and the winds brought the chill factor way down
below zero. Burr... I quickly snapped my pictures and said a few dirty
words as I looked ahead at the road which was completely covered in
glazed ice.
The Idaho meteorologist refer to this as "snowfloor," which means NO
PAVEMENT SHOWING. Before I left my Hotel that day, I logged onto the
road conditions using my laptop and the report read "snowfloor" from the
top of the pass to Dubois, Idaho, 40 miles away. Now you see why I said
a few dirty words.
 Through
the entire first half of my ride I had thought Lookout Pass was the
biggest hurdle but I was wrong. Lookout had a "snowfloor" but it was
snow-covered, Monida had a "snowfloor" and it consisted of killer THICK
glazed ice pack and it brought me to almost a halt. I had no choice but
to ride on the shoulder of the road and I could not exceed a speed of
more than 15 mph. I kept myself paralyzed to my seat while trying to
keep my balance. There were a lot of times where I had to slow down to
between 5 and 10 mph while keeping both feet on the ground to stop from
crashing. Once again, it was motorcycle skiing using the Flintstone
method. If I moved a muscle or exceeded my safe speed limit of 15 mph, the
back tire would go into an instant tail spin. One time, I reached down
with my left hand to turn off the heat on my electric clothing and
almost dumped the Harley as my back tire went into a tail spin. Balance,
Balance, Balance!
My other fear, besides dumping the bike, was someone
plowing into me from behind or having the state trooper kick me of the
Interstate and call me an idiot. Going over Lookout Pass, the truckers
and cars gave me plenty of room but the crazy drivers over Monida were
still doing 70 mph and several of them slid off the road and then there
was the guy in a pickup who passed me who I later saw tipped over in the
center divider. I think the only reason the state troopers did not kick
me off the road was because they were to busy tending to all the
accidents. In the past I had ridden over many snowy California summits
but this was pretty hairy stuff as all the lanes blended in and although
I rode the shoulder of the road, sometimes I was not sure if I was on
the road or off of it. There were no yellow or white lines to follow and
all I could do was to try and grab a few cinders along the shoulder of
the road.
The freeway on-ramps and off-ramps plus the bridges
were scary and it took me out of my 15 mph comfort zone because I had to
cross these from the shoulder of the road instead of the slow lane. I
continued this for more than 35 miles until I was able to move back out
into the slow lane around Dubois, Idaho. This terrifying experience took
a couple of hours to get through and due to my ability as an experience
motorcycle rider and the fact that I did not have a choice, I made it
with flying colors with no scraps or injury and no bent handlebars or
broken taillight lenses. I passed my ice test and may have boldly gone
where no other motorcyclist has gone before!
I stopped at McDonalds in Idaho Falls and was reading
the paper while eating my so-called cheeseburger and the front page
said, "Idaho residents digging out from a major snow storm." That
explains the foot of snow outside and why the roads were all
snow-covered and icy. I wanted to ride to Boise via Twin Falls and spend
the night but another "Idaho Snowstorm" was due in that evening. I also
read that eastern Oregon and of course, northern California were also
digging out from their snow as well so going home though Boise was not
an option anymore. I considered going to Twin Falls and down Highway 93
to Wells, Nevada but I would have had to travel on the two-lane highway
at night over many snowy pass to get to I-80 so that option was
cancelled also. My only option was to take the long way home and
continue south on I-15 via Pocatello and onto Salt Lake City where I
would catch Interstate 80. I knew once I left Idaho Falls, that the
roads should dry out and I would only be faced with some icy spots over
the Idaho and Utah border. I was right and as darkness closed in, I rode
out of the storm and south to Salt Lake City.
 I was finally able to
relax and enjoy the ride so I cranked on the throttle, brought the
Harley up to 75 mph and turned on the stereo and listened to some old
songs such as "Riders on the Storm, Against the Wind, Ridin' the Storm
Out, Ride the Tiger, Ride Ride Ride, Rockin' Down the Highway, I Can't
Drive 55, and of course, Born to Be Wild."
It was dark when I crossed the Utah state line and I
stopped at a rest area outside of Logan, Utah. As I took my helmet off,
a trucker walked up to me and said, "are you the guy that came across
Monida Pass today?" I told him, yes that was me and gave him a brief
explanation of where I had been and where I was going. He was from
Montreal, Canada and said that was one of worst sections of icy roads
that he has seen in many years and wondered why the state troopers did
not pull me off the road. He also said that the word spread throughout
the western states on the trucker's CB radio about the guy on the
motorcycle who crossed over the 7,000 foot Monida pass after a major
snowstorm. He was truly amazed and he said that he was proud to have met
me and wished me luck with the rest of my trip and getting over Donner
Summit (7,200 ft.) in California.
Just outside of Salt Lake City about 7:30 pm, I
stopped for gas and to take care of everything else we do when we take a
rest stop. I had a goal to reach Elko, Nevada some 250 miles away but
due to the Monida Pass ordeal, I was pretty exhausted and the hotel
signs were looking very tempting at this point. I also was not thrilled
about leaving Salt Lake City on my second day home as I knew I had to
get to California a few hours before dark as to avoid the icy roads
going home so I set my path to Wendover, Utah, along the Nevada border.
I figured that if I get there about 9:00 pm, it would give me time to
relax in hotel's Jacuzzi. The only way to accomplish this next hundred
miles was to put in some foot stomping Charlie Daniels band in my stereo, crank the Harley to
75 mph and go for. Even
though the outside temperatures were hovering around the freezing mark,
it may no difference as I was dressed in my Harley Davidson electric
clothing and I simply could not get cold! After battling double vision,
exhaustion, and a few snow flurries, I finally arrived in Wendover about
9:30 pm or so.
Friday morning on January 3, 2003
"Day 6 - The Ride Home"
Welcome to the state of Nevada, that is what the sign
said as I walked to the casino the morning before I left. Wendover is in
Utah but West Wendover is in Nevada and they are right next door. I
quickly dropped a hundred dollars in the machines, then walked across
the street and gave McDonalds $6.00 for breakfast and then saddled up
and rode away. From Wendover to Elko, Nevada, the temps were in the
upper 20s and the entire 132 miles consisted of icy roads and a few snow
flurries. The fast lane was very icy the entire way and the slow lane
was also icy when crossing over the 6,000 to 7,000 foot passes. It's
called "Deja Vu" as my windshield was once again plugged and I could not
see a thing. I scrapped a little peak hole but it only lasted till the
next truck would pass. There was one truck driver ahead of me that
seemed to like keeping his wheels along the shoulder of the road. This
was bad news, as he was flinging cinders at me at a high rate of speed
and it felt like I was at war with a pellet gun. I had no choice but to
pass him in the fast (icy) lane and gain some ground ahead of him.
Almost all truck drivers are cool and respect motorcycle riders but I
thought this guy was doing this on purpose. I looked in my mirror after
I passed him and it seems he was taking short naps as I watched him
weave onto the shoulder and back out into the lane again.
No need to drag this story on any further, expect to
tell you that once I left Elko the roads became completely dry and the
sun came out in full force, something I had not seen in a long time. I
stopped in Winnemucca for gas and the obvious choice of music, at this
point, was Creedence Clearwater. Ever been on your Harley with the
throttle cranked open at 80 mph riding across the state of Nevada
listing to Born on the Bayou? It doesn't get any better, except for
maybe a summer day with temps in the 80s! From Winnemucca on, there was
something terribly wrong and I was not sure how to deal with it. The
temperatures soared to near 60 degrees and the sun was slightly burning
my face. Help, I was trapped in my monster Harley Davidson full riding
suit with electric gear and extra clothing wishing I was dressed in a
tank top and my leather riding vest. I quickly pulled off the freeway,
clicked the off switch to the electric gear, unzipped my suit part way,
and pulled of my protective Harley Davidson face mask--I can breathe
again.
I rode through Reno about 2:30 pm and the temptation
was overwhelming as my bike wanted to hang a left downtown and donate to
the state of Nevada by gambling all my money away but common sense took
over and said, "no way, you need to get home." Go home, but which way?
The quickest way is the same old route that I have taken a million times
and that is to take Highway 395 from Reno to Susanville, then 5 miles on
Highway 36 to Highway 44 where it connects to Highway 89 at Old Station.
From Highway 89, it's a straight shot to Interstate 5 and about 100
miles away to my hometown of Mount Shasta. I knew time was of the
essence as I had to get through Highway 44 before dark because there was
no doubt that the roads would start to freeze and then it would take
forever to get through.
 As
suspected, once I left Reno and headed north on Highway 395, the
temperatures dropped about 15 degrees and once again had to pull over
and put on my mask, zip up my riding suit, and click on the heated gear.
I arrived in Susanville and took a very short break as I knew I had to
get through Highway 44 before dark. Everywhere in the state of
California can have nice weather but you can always count on icy roads
on 44 during the winter. Us locals just call it "44." Sure enough, the
temps dropped to near 32 degrees and once again, I was battling the
slick ice only this time there was pavement showing with a few dry
stretches in between. I still had to ride slow and flag the cars with my
left arm to pass me. The elevation on this highway averages around 5,000
feet for about 60 miles and the road consist of several curves with a
few straight aways. Once I hit "89," I headed north and was only 100
miles from home. It seemed like I could not get there fast enough. The
rest of the ride home had its share of icy roads too but I just kept on
a "chugglin" down the road until I finally reached my destination, my
home!
After my dog Mojo licked me and
mauled me, my Girlfriend took over and did the same thing. I did a damage assessment on my bike. The total
underneath of the bike including the Mag wheels had chemical burns from
the de-icer they put on the road, the right side muffler had some of the
chrome chipped away from the cinders, my windshield had hundreds of
scratches from the ice scraper, the front fender and both lower and
upper fairings had dings and pits from the cinders plus the entire bike
was coated in road crust that would no doubt take hours of elbow grease
to remove. Never once did I complain about anything on my trip and there
wasn't a mile that went by where I wasn't loving every minute of it,
except for the 40 miles over Monida Pass that I did not die on. Somebody was
watching over me!
I had clocked a total of 2,195 miles for the entire
road trip and it was not more than two days later and I was ready to do
it all over again. This time I had my sights set on something even more
challenging and am currently planning my route as we speak. I have
always wanted to join the
Iron Butt Association and enter in their SaddleSore 2000 with mileage requirement of at least 2,000 miles in 48
hours. I plan on conquering "two birds with one stone" and that is to
also break the Guinness World Record of "The Longest Non-Stop Winter
Motorcycle Ride." All this depends upon receiving the paperwork from
Guinness before winter ends.
I have owned many bikes over the years and have been
riding all my life and just bought my Harley Davidson Electra Glide on January 4,
2002 from Redding
Harley Davidson and put more than 25,000 in the first year. I always take a lot of
long rides, at least once a week, of at least 500 miles or so and can't
seem to get enough of it, especially long distance tours. During the
month of September, my girlfriend (who loves to ride) and I went back to
Iowa via the northern states and returned via Colorado Rockies and the
national parks in southern Utah. We clocked about 5,000 miles and
averaged about 500 miles a day and yes, we did get a little saddle sore.
So far, my record daytime ride is 712 miles from Mount Shasta,
California to Spokane, Washington on December 29, 2002.
 The Harley Electra Glide Classic not only has pure
comfort but there is a ton of storage with it's metal trunks and top
rack. Plus with its stereo and floorboards, there is no end to the
amount of miles you can put on it; it's truly the luxury liner of
motorcycles! Now with my newly purchased Harley Davidson electric
clothing and riding suit, there is no telling how far I can ride. I am
now bullet proof!
Apparel Heaven!
-
Harley Davidson Riding Suit - This was a great deal as the
suit cost around $800 and it was marked down to $349 with an
additional 15 percent off for a total of $296. I felt like I stole
it!
- Harley Davidson Electric Clothing- Sox's,
Pants, Jacket, Gloves, I stayed toasty roasty the entire way!
- Mountaineering Clothing - Polypropylene long
johns and top, sock linkers, and my $125 lightweight climbing
(full windproof) vest.
-
Black
Sheep Boots - Maker of the best all-weather leather motorcycle
boots available. These Black Sheep Boot Company waterproof biker
boots were engineered by and for seasoned motorcycle riders.
2010 Update:
My bike now has way over 150,000 miles on it and I have moved from
Mount Shasta to Idaho in 2006 then moved back to Mount Shasta in
2008 but then moved to Tucson in 2009 so you can only guess where I
am moving next. Now, lets get down to riding -- I have rode to all the
western states, into the mid west and all through Canada. I have covered at least 90
percent of the roads in all the western states and have logged in
many more "butt pucker upper" winter rides and countless upon
countless 700 to 800 mile days with some being back to back. I have
been to all the national parks and simply put, I have been
everywhere! In 2004, I completed the
Saddle Sore with Iron Butt
Association for a grueling 1,056 miles in less than 24 hours and am
working on more rides soon. The Guinness World Record of "The
Longest Non-Stop Winter Motorcycle Ride" did not pan out as they
stopped accepting applications for that record. Darn, I was ready
and had a 2,000 mile non stop winter ride and had it all planned
out. My bike was in hog hospital (the Boise shop) for July and
August of 2007 and I have a brand new motor, but the oil pump failed
in 2009 so as of September 2009. I know have a brand new motor, a
pumped up top end, and a few other performance goodies, plus kick
ass cams. I just did my winter ride this year from Arizona, New
Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma and back home again. 2,000 miles in 3 days
and honestly, I was just getting warmed up. I had a ride a few years
ago at 6,000 in 8 days. Move over Rover, let Stevie take over. My
bike kicks ass and I am ready for another 100,000 miles. I figured the math --
if I ride for 200 days straight at 500 miles a day, I will reach
another 100,000 miles and I could do this without even getting a
sore ass. Believe or Not!
The States
Me & My Harley Have Been In...
"I RIDE WITH THE WIND
& FLY LIKE AN EAGLE"
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The Long Ride ~ Page 2 - The Legend
Ride ~ Page 3 The Ride Home
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