Day 3 – Bonners Ferry ID to White Bird Summit Lodge ID

We woke fairly early in the morning, our body ‘time clocks’ still not quite used to the additional hour we had gained by moving into another time zone.  I looked out through the curtains onto the river and the whole landscape was bathed in a morning heat haze – oh good!!  With clear blue skies, that did not bode well.  We decided rather than hunt round town for a diner, we would have breakfast in the room – very nice too.  We had already packed before breakfast had arrived.  Once we had finished our meal, we climbed into riding gear and made our way down to the hotel lobby.  While Wendy checked out, I got the bags out to the bikes and started loading ‘Gertie’ for the days ride.

First stop was just a couple of miles from the hotel to top both bikes up with fuel.  The owners manuals for both machines, states a minimum RON rating for the fuel of 95.  However, as Canada and the US don’t use this octane rating at the gas pumps, we had to carry out some Internet research before we set off from the hotel.  It turns out that we both require a Super Regular rated at 91.  Happy now that we had got the right fuel, both bikes were topped up and off we set.  We were on our way by about 9:30am, the roads were quiet for the time being, but it was already 23.5’C and rising!

The first town of any note that we encountered was Sandpoint.  Major road works were being carried out on the town bypass and the diversion took us on a complete tour of the little town.  When we were eventually ‘spat’ out back onto the highway, we were at the start of a long causeway bridge crossing the lake that the town nestled against.  The bridge afforded a great view out over the lake.  All sides of which were tree covered right down to the waters edge.  We looked out in envy at the people enjoying a lovely day out on the cooling waters.  It was now in the high 20’s and still rising!  Clear of the road works on the bridge, the road cleared a little allowing us to make up a little time.

We had been riding for a couple of hours or so, when we came up upon a small town with a First Nations trading post, aptly named ‘Warpath’.  Neither of us needed fuel, but we certainly needed water, the bathroom and a chance to stretch our legs.  Several Harley riders came into Warpath while we were there.  Not one wore much in the name of protective riding gear.  The State of Idaho does not legislate the use of helmets, and none of the riders wore one.  I thought how wonderful and free that must feel and today, how much cooler it must be.  Then I imagined hitting some loose gravel or any form of accident, and how stupidly vulnerable these riders were.  One small tumble and a head striking asphalt – doesn’t bear thinking about.  That thought brought me back to my senses and I happily pulled on my armoured jacket and my helmet.

On our way south, the countryside had been gradually changing around us.  Yesterday afternoon we had seen the last of the Rocky Mountains.  We had started the day amongst snow capped, glacier encrusted craggy peaks.  As we rode closer to the border, the snow line was completely gone and the peaks less craggy.  Neither were they so close.  Now they were five to ten miles out to left or right, slowly receding away.  Like a travelling companion who can only go so far with you, then must head for home, so the Rockies were heading home and leaving us.

The mountains were replaced by tree-covered hills.  Although the highway still snaked it’s way between the hills, the road was nowhere near as dramatic or as technical to ride.  Still fun, but mountain ‘twisties’ are in a league of their own as far as the ‘fun factor’ goes for a biker.  This hilly scenery continued past Bonners Ferry until about Sandpoint.  The end of the big lakes in the area, also marked the end of the hilly, tree covered countryside and the start of a rolling prairie landscape.  A vast area of gently rolling hills, like a great golden ocean swell.  I was thinking the crops must be ready for harvesting, when I saw the first of several harvesters busy in the fields.  We rode in through the swaying sea of gold, toward Lewiston.

We had been riding at a ‘fair pace’ approaching Lewiston and had to reduce our speed as we approached a steep decent.  Quite how steep we were shortly to find out.  The road sign indicated an 8% grade, so I geared down in order to control the decent speed.  As we rounded a descending left hand bend we got an amazing view of Lewiston, some 500’/600’ below us in the Clearwater River valley.  It was a shame about the heat haze; it would have made an amazing photo opportunity.  As it was, we rejoined the highway and headed the 3 miles into Lewiston and a stop for gas for ‘Sydders’ and an ice cream and more water for us.  As I brought the bike to a halt at the gas station, the OAT gauge was reading 41.5’C – that is seriously hot folk!!

From Lewiston to our night stop at the White Bird Summit Lodge, was about 78 miles.  It was quite far enough in this blistering heat.  The first part of the ride took us along the Clearwater River which gave us some respite from the intense heat.  As the road snaked along the valley, we got into more 'twisties'.  Unfortunately, a number of bridges were under repair, which curtailed a lot of the fun.  That and being stuck behind a large semi.  I waited for a clear bit of road, dropped down a gear and shot past the truck.  Unfortunately Wendy was hanging back a little too far and missed the same opportunity.  However just a few miles down the road, she saw a suitable passing opportunity and soon caught up with me again.  A few more miles of fun in the valley, then we were back onto the prairie heading to Grangeville, which was just 8 miles from our night stopstop.  We were both tired and wanted to get this days riding over and I must admit I was being a little heavy on the ole right hand.  As it turns out, so did the local Sheriff!

We came up over a slight rise and I was clocking about 75mph on a road limited to 65mph.  At the last minute I saw lights on top of a car pointing toward us.  Any chance that he may not have seen us went out of the window as he hit the Red & Blues and proceeded to turn the cruiser round.  I immediately headed for what there was of a shoulder, stopped, turned off the bike and got my license & documents ready for the Sherriff.  Firstly he stopped at Wendy and told her she wasn’t going as fast as me!  On reaching my side, he looked at my speedo and observed that it was in km.  I agreed and listened intently as he provided me with a conversion table – kph to mph.  Then he took my license to perform a check.  After a while he returned and said we were lucky this time, just a warning!  However, he was still concerned that I was able to adhere to the posted limits while reading kph on my speedo.  He then kindly reproduced his table for me on a page from his note pad and waited for us to rejoin the highway.  Of course I did not offer that my GPS was currently calibrated to mph for our time in the US………..  Time to take the break and head out of Dodge!!

A few miles down the road and we turned off of Highway 95, for the short trip to the lodge.  We were made very welcome and told once we had showered and settled in, to come and help ourselves to a beer from the fridge.  Shame not to really!  After the beer Wendy & I wandered about the place and were called back in for dinner at 6pm.  Although we are the only guests staying overnight, there had been a party of six who had been at the Lodge riding out on some of the horses.  As it turned out, three of the party were Brits and we all had a good ‘natter’ over a dinner of fresh salmon cooked on the grill – beautiful.

As is the norm it seems, I am finishing off my writing for the day and Wendy is already bashing out the zzzzzzzz’s.  So fan, tis now time for me to get some sleep before one more day in the pressure cooker!  Sleep tight one & all and for our fellow bikes, ride safe and keep the black stuff down.