Page last modified: 08/22/08

To the 'Gambling State' in 2001

by Colin Ford

I have a very good, solid, 1982 GS650GL. I've had now about two years, and it hasn't let me down at all, except for a flat battery caused by a wire from the alternator coming apart at the bullet connector. The bike came as a payment for 'services rendered', and after it had given a good clean I discovered a great bike in good running condition. It was soon dressed up with the full Vetter kit, Windjammer fairing, trunk, and hard side bags, all from a local salvage yard and adapted to fit. Wonderful what you can do with a friend who has a welding kit. Finally came the spray paint cans and a decent paint job, even if I say so myself. Add some gold pin striping and I have a go anywhere bike!

The Koot Scoot, aka 1982 GS650GL

Why the Koot Scoot? Well I live in a small town called Creston in the Kootenays of British Columbia, Canada, home of some of the best biking in the world. Creston is a trans-border town; that is, we live just six miles from the top of the Idaho panhandle. As a result our playground extends into Idaho, Montana, Washington, and sometimes Oregon, Wyoming, and Nevada. Being a border town means we frequently cross the border, often several times a week, to shop, drink coffee etc. Our closest big city is Spokane WA, about two and a half hours away.

So the Koot Scoot is all dressed up, and there is definitely somewhere to go!

Back in the early summer my friend Gord, on his 1985 Yamaha Venture Royal, and I set off for Nevada. To get there all we had to do was cross Idaho, Yeah right! After a cheery send off by the U.S. Immigration officials at the border, we set off to Sandpoint, and then headed east on Hwy 200 to Montana. The highway took us along Lake Pend Oreille. It is one of the larger lakes in the U.S. and this is where the U.S. Navy did submarine training during the Second World War. Imagine that? submarines in a lake! I believe they're still there, and what marvelous lake monster stories they could conjure up. Then away from the lake, going into Montana and higher territory. We didn't have too far to go before we came to the first planned stop across the Clark Fork River into Noxon Montana, and lunch.

We found the place we were looking for called Toby's Tavern. It is an interesting place with Susan B Anthony dollars all over the place. They were set into the counter, under the counter, on the walls, even on the ceiling. Toby reckoned there were close to eleven thousand dollars there! We had a decent meal, and then onto Thompson Falls, a medium sized town. Here we took a short break by the river. We had a drink and stretched the legs, and as it was now hot off came the chaps, as well as the heavy jacket, and on with a lightweight one. After the pause that refreshes, it was off to Rivalli, our next town about twenty-five miles along the Clark Fork River. It was a good road until we came to the signs we all dread, "Road Works for the Next 13 Miles". They were widening the highway and had removed all the surface. So we had to ride on gravel and dirt. Luckily it was dry, and as we were the head of the traffic we didn't get too much dust. The posted speed limit was 25mph and they meant it! There was no way I wanted to go any faster! Finally we made it to Rivalli and onto Hwy 93. Here we encountered quite a bit more traffic; this is the main road from Kalispell to Missoula, which was our next point on our way.

Missoula is a good-sized Montana city with a clean openness about it. At Missoula I took my jacket off and rode in shirtsleeves. It felt very good; still wore gloves and helmet though, those I will not remove while riding. They protect my two most important tools, brain and hands. I was still somewhat uneasy about not wearing a jacket, but it really was very hot. We didn't spend any time here, and were soon heading south down the Bitterroot Valley. We passed small towns such as Stevensville, and Corvallis, and then came to a larger one called Hamilton. Between Missoula and Hamilton, some forty miles, there was a log house manufacturer about every half-mile, some small, and a few very large outfits with multiple big tower cranes. In Hamilton Gord gassed up, and I bought a Delorme detailed atlas of Montana; great books. I have the ones for Idaho, Washington and Oregon. I can recommend these atlases to anyone who is seeking the lesser-known back roads, and even forest roads. They are the most complete maps I have found thus far.

Then south again to Darby, and on to a spot on the map called Conner to find a motel for the night. Yeah right! one store, and a few houses, and that was Conner. I think I blinked because I must have missed it. We decided to press on a little further although we were getting closer to the high pass at Lost Trail, and the Idaho border. A mile or so further on we came across a log restaurant/saloon/motel that looked quite good, called the Rocky Knob. It had a five-room motel, a fine dining room, and a nice bar. There was some concern that the motel was full as there was a mushroom buyer located outside in the parking lot, and the rooms were all taken with mushroom pickers. Fortunately there was one room spare and we took it, though to Gord's dismay there was no tub only a shower. This is a big mushroom picking area and the buyer's tent had maps of the area where they can be picked. The mushrooms, they are looking for, is the morel mushroom, and the are found particularly after a forest fire. This whole area was devastated last year with major forest fires. These morels are worth something like a $1000 a pound. The buyer is there from 4pm to 9pm, he then takes his collection to the airport, I assume at Missoula, and the next day they are in Japan. I noticed in our local supermarket, that they had small morel mushrooms for sale at $8 for 14 grams, (1/2 ounce). I'll stick to ordinary ones! We had a decent supper in a surprising white tablecloth restaurant, then a cigar and bed.

We left very early the following morning heading on up towards the pass. We soon came to a KOA campsite, cabins, and a restaurant/store, including gas. After breakfast we set off for a fantastic ride up to the summit of the Lost Trail Pass at 7014 ft. The road up was full of great sweepers and twisties, and the same the other side. It was a most exhilarating ride, I even touched my foot pegs a couple of times. Shook Gord who had it in mind that I was too timid. He didn't know then that I used to road race some forty-five years ago; he does now! So on down and back into Idaho, to the town of Salmon, gas and coffee. Although it had started off quite cool, it was now a beautiful, warm morning.

We left Salmon having followed the upper reaches of the Salmon River down a fairly steep valley to the town, but we now set off along the Lemhi River in a flat wide valley. Just out of town we turned off Hwy 93 onto Hwy 28. The whole area is called the Lemhi range, with the Lemhi River, and the Lemhi Valley, but the place indicated on the map as Lemhi wasn't to be seen. We did see Leadore, a small community. Could it be they found lead here? Now started a steady climb. The valley was ranging from low hills to high mountains either side. After a long climb we came to a marker on the side of the road telling us we were at the summit of Gilmore Pass elev. 7186 ft. I hadn't realized we had climbed quite so high. Mind you there is a lot of high country in this part of the Continent. We started down again and I was beginning to have concerns about finding a gas pump. The highway from Leadore is very uninhabited. Finally we came to a place called Lone Pine. Didn't see the pine, but did find a small bar and gas pumps. It looked a typical middle of the desert-stopping place, just like so many advertisements on TV. We were well due a break from the saddle, and when we had filled the bikes I moved mine over to the hitching post, "threw the reins over the rail", and told it not to wander. Then I took "Pilgrim" into the bar for refreshments. Too bad I couldn't clink my spurs.

From here we headed into a lot of wind making for Arco, "The first city in the world to be powered by Nuclear Power!" Yes folks, this is where it all started. In fact a about fifteen miles, or so, south of Arco on Hwy 20 you can visit the first nuclear reactor in the world - "Experimental Breeder Reactor #1". This is where the nuclear industry first started, and the original plant is still there and operating. It is open for visitors, worth a visit but we didn't stop this time. From Arco back out into the wind, and on past the Craters Of The Moon National Monument. Again it is well worth a visit if you haven't been there. It never ceases to amaze me the extent of the lava flows; they go on for mile after mile!

A few miles after the Craters of the Moon, my bike started to miss, as if I was losing one cylinder. It soon cleared up and didn't re-appear the rest of the trip. Scary though, out there in the middle of the desert without too much traffic. The wind, now very strong, coming from the 2 o-clock position, was getting very tiresome as we were fighting it all the time. Add to this lots of dust caused by the wind over land ravaged by last year's grass and scrub fires. Then on to Twin Falls, Idaho

As we entered the city we crossed over the Snake River Canyon on a high bridge. It was close to here that Evel Knievel did his infamous attempt to jump the Canyon. We had to stop and have a look from the viewpoint. After all this was one of motorcycling's more forgettable events. We didn't stop here but were soon south of the city heading toward Nevada. The road was good with not too much traffic. Soon we crossed another high desert summit at 6,050 ft. It didn't have a name, just a sign with the height. Then we dropped down into Jackpot Nevada, which sits right on the border. We literally crossed from Idaho into Main Street, Jackpot Nevada. Needless to say the main, and only, industry is gambling. We rode along the town's main street, Highway 93 for a quarter mile, or so, to the end, having a look at places to spend the night. We turned around and found the Four Jacks Casino with a sign saying $19.99 Senior Rate. That sounded fine, so we checked in. I being the "senior", (Gord has a few years to go yet), signed us in. I was given a chit for $5 worth of nickels, and a book of coupons for free drinks etc. Gord also got one of those. Then up to our room, comparable to any Holiday Inn, and to Gord's pleasure, a tub to soak in. Then down to the restaurant for supper, but not until Gord had his soak. The food was great. Then I had to fill in a simple questionnaire, and was given my $5 worth of nickels. So into the casino and the slot machines, real ones with handles to pull, not those wimpy electronic things. Gord's biggest payout was 60 nickels or $3; mine was 150 nickels or $7.50, WOW! After playing them for a while, and enjoying the free beer, we cashed in. Gord was $2 to the bad, and I was $2.50 to the good; so between us be broke even. Then up to bed as we were both bushed after fighting that damn wind all afternoon.

The next morning I wanted to explore the desert a bit more, but Gord wanted to head back to the mountains, so it on the road north again. I couldn't convince Gord to go further into the desert. The wind was non-existent, and it was a beautiful morning, still he wouldn't budge, saying that, "once you have seen a desert, you have all the deserts around here". We climbed out of Jackpot back into Idaho. After a few miles we came to the road works we had passed last evening, Then, as we waited for the pilot car, Gord pointed out that my engine guard had come apart at the weld on the left side. He suggested we take it off, but I declined suggesting instead that we make it to Twin Falls and find a welding shop. I would keep an eye on it.

Just before we came to Twin Falls we passed through a small one-store town called Filer, and here was a welding shop with the welder working on a horse trailer. We pulled in. He told me he would be just a couple of minutes. In typical country style he finished a welding a hinge on the trailer, and payment was a couple of bales of hay, or something like that. As we waited I noticed on the ground bits of sheet metal with silhouettes of fir trees, and Indian heads, etc. He came over and looked at the engine guard and said it was no problem. We questioned him about the cutouts and discovered he was a metal artist, and a very good one. He showed us examples of his work and it was great. He exhibits art shows, fairs, and stores, etc. He did a splendid job on the guard, and even fixed my bent left foot peg. All for $15 - well $14, it's all I had in change. Then back on the road.

We gassed up in Twin Falls, and then stopped at the lookout again. As we were taking photos of the bikes, a woman offered to take photos with our cameras with us in the photos. Thank you mam! We then set off north to Shoshone, and there we picket up the "Sawtooth Scenic Byway", with signs telling us the Galena Pass was open. We headed north across more high desert, but little wind today. We passed Ice Caves and the Mammoth Caves, which are in fact an extension of the lava fields and are lava tubes. We didn't stop. Then suddenly we were climbing up and soon we came across, and dropped down the other side of a range of low hills into a vast fertile valley. We crossed this very agricultural bottom-land, and as it narrowed on the north side we came into the Ketchum/Sun Valley experience. The first town was Hailey, a community of some 5,000. It has a very sophisticated airport; better than some international airports I have been in. With all the money here I am not surprised. I guess there's a lot of Hollywood dollars here. As we got further into Sun Valley the real estate was, well ostentatious to say the least! We found gas and then headed north again off to the Galena Pass. After quite a ride, and some more good twisties, we came to the pass and it was a high one at 8,781ft. I am sure the old road, which we could see from the new cut was all of 9,000 ft. We stopped and took a few photos, and then dropped down to a huge high alpine plateau, and the headwaters of the Salmon River. We crossed the plateau to Stanley a small but pleasant village, where we gassed up, Just as well!

From Stanley we headed along and then down to Lowman. After crossing more of the high plateau we suddenly started down in earnest. As I rounded on sharp bend in fourth gear braking hard and then accelerating out of it, I noticed a sign stating this was a Rescue Rope Anchor Point! I don't know either, but it was a long was down to the river. I guess they do river rafting here. Finally we got to Lowman and no gas. It was another thirty miles to Banks. I checked my gas gauge and decided I had enough gas to get there. So off we set along the worst road yet! It was plagued with tar strips. The maintenance crew here must have loved signing their names with these damned tar strips. Going around one corner I was thrown by one, actually touching the right peg down. It sure slowed me down for the rest of this road from hell! When we got to Banks there was no gas station and the needle was resting on empty!

To this point I had not needed to use the reserve switch on the petcock. So onto reserve then off again up this great road, bend after bend. After some fifteen miles of wonderful riding we came to the next community on the map, Smith's Ferry. No gas! So another eighteen miles to the next town, Cascade. Now I was really beginning to worry, and felt good about including a liter of gas in a bottle hidden in my luggage. We carried on and finally came to Cascade, and finally, gas! And what a surprise, with 221 km, (127 miles), on the trip meter I still had 2 liters left in the tank! good for another 50 kms, (30 miles). Now I knew the range of my bike about 270 kms, or 150 miles

From Cascade we headed to McCall, then onto New Meadow, and our motel for the night. It was an older motel with a couple of comely young wenches in the office. The rooms were OK and clean, with a minute¢ tub which Gord looked at with some trepidation. It was time to go look for somewhere for supper. Then off to bed, Gord via the minute tub. I ignored his complaints as he tried to have a soak.

A lovely morning; up at 5.30 and off to A & W for breakfast, then off north, along Hwy 95. We were now heading down the Little Salmon River toward Riggins. After a few miles we came upon some major road works. We were the lead vehicles behind the pilot car, and the road works involved a lot of blasting to straighten the road. Highway 95 is a major commercial route from Canada to Mexico. After a while we lost the pilot car, and off we went enjoying the empty twisting road running alongside the Little Salmon River. Then through Riggins riding along the real Salmon River, and over the new bridge. Did I ever tell you about the new bridge? Well that's a story for another time.

As I said it was a beautiful morning and the riding was marvelous. We left the Salmon River, and its beautiful valley/gorge, and headed up the White Bird Pass, elevation 4295ft. Not as high as some we had recently crossed, but never the less a great climb, and the GS650 didn't hang back at all on any of the passes! Then over the top and down to another high plateau, Grangeville, gas, and coffee.

From Grangeville we carried on Hwy 95 heading for Lewiston, We came to another steep down hill grade just beyond Craigmont. As we started down a big tractor-trailer rig pulled out from a side turning in front of me. I expected to have to ride slowly down the double yellow lines behind it, at least for a while, as it would be in low gear. No way! He set off down the hill at a good 65 to 70 mph, and a couple of times I though he had lost it as one wheel came off the pavement at the back of his trailer. I decided to hold back just in case he went over! Fortunately when we got to the bottom he was still running but he slowed right down, and I didn't see him again once I passed him. Then on to Lewiston and another steep climb away from the Clear Water River. We got to the top and paused to look over the twin cities of Lewiston and Clarkston. Then we left Hwy 95 and headed into Washington and Hwy 195 to Spokane. From there off along Interstate 90 to Coeur d'Alene where we picked up Hwy 95 again. Then north to Sandpoint, onto Bonners Ferry, and finally Porthill and the border crossing. Finally home and the loving arms of my wife, and Gord the loving tongue of Sadie his lovely dog.

A great trip some 2,500 kilometers, (1500 miles), in all. The GS performed flawlessly. Against the big Yamaha the 650 more than held its own. In the tighter corners the GS was much more nimble, The bike is tuned for low and mid range power, pulling away in 5th. gear from 1500rpm up to 8,000 without any hesitation. I found the seat very comfortable and didn't experience any problems after four long days of riding. I got decent gas mileage averaging around 45-50mpgand and burned no oil. Verdict? One great trip, one great bike!

Colin Ford