After the maintenance, new tires, and a new chain the bikes were eager to ride West. Early Saturday morning, we took the Highway 12 turnoff south of Missoula, and headed for Lowell and Lewiston.
We were soon into it, with long curves and gentle swoops. Ian and I had ridden this road three years ago, and while I remember some of the features of the ride, the specifics were once again, new to me. The beauty of a failing memory.
We stopped at Lolo Hot Springs, where Ian and I had camped, and a a couple of decades earlier, Lewis and Clarke and soaked in the pool. I remembered the rock face which was across from our tents, and the outline which looked like some proud Sioux chief. I think we are in Nez Perce territory, however. These guys were waiting for their next paying customer, and one of them was sleeping on the job.
The road carried on, following the Clearwater river, and providing us with over 200 km of great riding. Towards Idaho, we were beginning to feel the effects of a local forest fire, in that smoke was getting pretty heavy, but not enough to slow the Spyder down.
Grandma handled the Spyder like a trooper, and carved the corners with ease.
There were very large grain farms for 50 kms or so, until we hit the small farms and the beginning of the forested area of northern Idaho. We found some good side roads that kept us of the main interstate, and went through some interesting small little towns.
We travelled through the Idaho Panhandle, eventually stopping at Sandpoint. There is some very beautiful county in this part of the world, and a couple of great lakes.
Finding some shade while we water up..
We left Sandpoint early and managed to cross the border at Eastport. The Canadian border guard was polite, informative and human...maybe he could teach some of the others how to interact with the public.