The second leg of the tour dawned with an auspicious haze following Toby’s nameday festivities. Around the crack of noon we emerged from Max’s rumpus room, packing light, in varying degrees of stupor, for the quick sprint through Yellowstone, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rare-ish baby American land Buffalo, and avoid any recreation of the events of that John Cusack-Yellowstone Caldera movie.

-Silver, upon reflection

Yellowstone packs a lot of sights for the weary traveler: thermal features, formerly sexy roadwork workers, brown camels (I’m being told these were actually female moose), and breathtaking vistae that make you realize/forget you spent the last 360 days staring at an LCD 12-18 inches from your face.

“The second leg of the tour was a Dickensian ‘best of times and the worst of times.’ The ride through Yellowstone was beautiful, if crowded, a theme that would be repeated at every national park we visited. Once out of the park we were able to open the bikes up on the way home and arrived back in Bozeman just as the sun set (behind a pall of ominous storm clouds).”

-Cobb November 9, 2015

“If you’ve ever been touring, you’ll know that you tend to find yourself hanging out outside gas stations, probably too frequently for anyone’s well being. As often as we could, we’d pack in a couple beers to enjoy on a scenic turnout somewhere along the way. One memorable spot was the lakeside road known as ‘The Swans.’ We pulled over near an inlet and cracked a couple of the previously mentioned (now warm) beers and enjoyed a good sit. It might be a little silly to say so, but sitting down with a warm beer is one of the best parts of your day when you’re on the road.”

-Toberton, fondest memories

“We left the comfort of Casa de Max and began our trip to Glacier National Park. Naturally, all of the campsites at Whitefish were full, prompting another late night scramble for shelter.”

-Cobb November 9, 2015

“After a night in the only room left in Whitefish we entered Glacier National Park and rode up the ‘Going to the Sun Road.’ This main road through the park winds up a steep pass, in which you gain a thousand feet of elevation in a matter of minutes, culminating in a view overlooking the valley you rode up from. We rested and looked out over the park, unaware that hell was just around the bend. After cresting the pass and beginning our descent down the other side, clouds closed in and the temperature dropped. Silver’s nerd-bike is equipped with a thermometer, and he happily informed us that it was down to 36 degrees while extolling the virtues of his heated hand-grips.

Nerd.”

-Cobb November 9, 2015

“I stood there shivering. Wet and miserable. Cursing through clenched, chattering teeth. ‘How the hell did I lose them.’ After Max had gone off looking for a camp site, we had planned to meet at Cut Rock Campground. I missed the turn most likely, on account of the miserable state I was in. The rain wasn’t so bad at first, but then the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, turning the rain into a hail/sleet mixture that was just brutal. After reluctantly backtracking 10 miles, I regrouped with the boys and stopped for a second time at the same dreary turnout. Two more cigarettes and one round of bitching and moaning later, we pushed the last 15 or so miles into East Glacier, where we were glad to find warm lodgings and a few much needed beers.”

-TobySlyder, thoughts from the Tobe

What makes a modern man? Is it obsession? The resilience to stand in the echo-chamber and ignore the white noise telling you over and over how crushingly insignificant you really are? Hatred? Or fear. A pair of testicles, as the Dude did surmise? The drive to document a blog about life-imitating-art-imitating-life? The awareness to see that it’s all a satire of itself? The choice is yours. Whatever it is, we haven’t found it yet.

“I was less than pleased with the situation, having not thought to bring winter gloves. Or waterproof pants when it started raining minutes later. Then it started hailing. And we, again, had no idea where we were staying that night. After some of the most miserable riding of my life we arrived in East Glacier, a small town on the border of the National Park. We checked in to a hostel and began the long process drying out and warming up. This process was aided by the discovery of a bar down the road that had a pool table! We resolved to make ourselves at home and try to forget the hailstorm ever happened. A few pitchers and one spirited treatise from Slider on the nature of ‘road morality’ and we were ready to head into the untamed, frozen land towards which we had striven:

Canada.”

-Cobb November 9, 2015