Friends and Family

Year three of our annual motorcycle trip to the Yellowstone area has come and gone and I can’t believe it’s already over. The first year I didn’t know what to expect and ended up loving everything about the trip. The second year I knew what to expect and was even more excited to go. This year I’ve been eagerly anticipating our trip almost since the day we returned home last year. I’ve yearned for it, first counting the months, then weeks, and finally the days before we hit the highway.

Our group numbered ten this year and for the first time in three years I finally had a female partner in crime to share the fun with. Five of the ten have made the journey all three years, a few have made it one or two times, and there were two newbies joining for the first time. 

Besides all the fun and laughter, every year I’ve taken away something different and very personal from this trip and this year was no different. Having solitary time on the back of a motorcycle, alone with my thoughts, surrounded by beautiful scenery, naturally leads me to thinking about many of my thoughts and emotions. I realized that it's very rare that I'm able to be completely quiet inside myself, away from all the stress and obligations of everyday life, just reflecting on my life. 

What struck me this year was how close a group of such different personalities and backgrounds can become. Tight bonds are formed that last well beyond our short vacation. This year, like last year, we rented a large house that we all stayed in together. At dinner time on the second night we were all gathered around a huge dining table eating our spaghetti dinner, when someone commented that they felt like they were at a family Thanksgiving. Someone else said, "This is better than my last Thanksgiving when I was alone with some store bought chicken and potatoes." Of course we all laughed and kidded him, but someone also said something to the effect of  "Well, we're your family, so it should feel like a family dinner." 

The day before someone mentioned how great it was that we were all together as friends, people that we'd chosen to spend time with because of the positive things we bring to each other's lives. We don't choose our families, and some in the group have less than ideal family dynamics, but we do choose our friends and our friends can be our family too. 

I realized that on some level that's why this trip, and this group of people, have become so important to me. They feel like my family. I've always loved big family gatherings--having everyone together under one roof, late nights spent talking, laughing and goofing around, leisurely mornings in pajamas drinking coffee while planning the day, and laughter filled dinners at a big table surrounded by people I love. 

I do, of course, have a large loving family of my own, but our family gatherings just aren't the same anymore. For one thing, there have been very few of them in the last three years. The last time we were all together under one roof was the week after Julie died. I don't think any of us would have survived that week if we hadn't been together. Little did I realize how much things would change after that. My mom said recently that Julie was our family lynch pin. A lynch pin is something that holds the various elements of a complicated structure together. That was Julie. Now that she's gone our family structure seems to be in a free fall. We're lost without her. When we are together, as Edna St. Vincent Millay said, "The presence of that absence is everywhere." In her absence we just don't get together that much anymore.

During our trip I laughed until my stomach hurt and there were tears streaming down my cheeks. There were long days and late nights filled with fun, but also talking about more serious things with people we all trust with each other's feelings. There were even some disagreements and squabbles, but they were all quickly put to rest with sincere acknowledgements of one anther's feelings and opinions with apologies when needed. I was surrounded by people that Mike calls "lifers", friends that are there for life, through thick and thin. The connection remains strong whether we see each other once a year or once a week, just like family. 

I guess my soul has been searching for a way to replace what I feel I've lost. I need those large family gatherings filled with silliness, laughter, closeness, support and love. When I got on the back of our motorcycle and hit the open highway, besides a vacation I was also seeking some peace and solace from my unconscious longing for connection. Lucky for me, I found all that and more. 

Bee Stings and Bears

It's hard to believe it's already been a year since I headed off on my first motorcycle adventure to Yellowstone National Park. Two weeks ago, eight of us set out for the 2nd Annual Foley's Jackson to Yellowstone Motorcycle Adventure.  Like last year, I was the only female in the group of seven men and seven motorcycles.  I wrote about that trip here.   Hopefully, next year a few more ladies will be brave enough to join us, so I'm not the odd man (or rather, woman) out again. 

 

The Cast of Characters

This year several of the riders from last year rejoined us, some from last year couldn't make it, and a few new people joined in.  Even though some of us were strangers at the start, we were soon fast friends, laughing, teasing and talking together like we'd known each other for years. We all have the same common connection, our friend Dave, owner of Foley's MMA Training Center.  

Our VRBO rental in Victor, Idaho

We did a few things different this trip.  For one, we decided not to camp and instead rented a luxury home in Victor, Idaho.  What a great decision that was!  It made packing the bikes so much easier and it felt much more like a vacation.  Being able to sleep in a comfortable, warm bed, take hot showers and baths, and wake up to fresh coffee brewing and a hearty breakfast eaten with a beautiful view from the back deck was heaven. It also didn't hurt that I did none of the shopping or cooking on the trip.  A crew of tough, manly men, several of them professional MMA fighters, doesn't at first glance seem like a group to spend a weekend with, but that's why it's dangerous to make judgements based on stereotypes. I have to admit I was spoiled and well taken care of the entire time. We also didn't ride nearly as many miles as last year, when we went all the way through Jackson Hole, Yellowstone, Cody, Wyoming and over both Chief Joseph and Beartooth Pass, and to Red Lodge, Wyoming and back.

 

The view from the back deck.

 

Mike, the head chef, flashing gang signs in the kitchen.




The crew ready to hit the road.

The highlight of the trip was early on our second day when we saw a Grizzly Bear in Grand Teton National Park.  It was my first time seeing a bear in the wild and it was beyond cool!  I'm giving credit for the sighting to our collective positive energy, as that morning I'd asked everyone to think positive thoughts and focus their energy on seeing a bear.  If I'd known it was that easy, I would have tried that method years ago! 

We also saw a large group of elk, and I spotted a moose drinking from the river when we were still in Utah heading up a mountain canyon.  Dave saw a bee up close and personal, as one flew inside his helmet and stung his ear on our first day as we were driving over Monte Cristo Highway in Utah.  More on that later.

The weather was beautiful the entire weekend, which made riding that much more enjoyable.  Our itinerary was very flexible, so we spent as much time as we felt like at different stops along the way.  In Jackson Hole, we did the usual tourist things, watching an old West shootout on the street, posing in front of the elk antler arches, and shooting whiskey at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar.  Okay, I guess not everybody does that last one, but since it was Shawn's first time there, I felt like the occasion should be properly celebrated.  

Just like last year, we spent way too much time at Old Faithful, or as we like to call it Old Disappointment.  Not because it doesn't erupt regularly, but because it's more than a little underwhelming seeing it in person for the first time after hearing about it for years.  Or, maybe we're just jaded. Honestly, we all like the ice cream cones from the visitor center better than the geyser.


Ice cream and Old Faithful

At this point in the trip, a new member joined our group.  Dave's bee sting had made his ear swell and redden to a point that we couldn't ignore it. His ear had taken on its own identity!  We named him Monte, after Monte Cristo where he was stung. We teased and laughed at Monte unmercifully for the rest of the trip. For a while we were worried Monte was going to require his own helmet and bike! 

Monte, a good listener with an ear for everyone.

Like all vacations, this one didn't seem long enough.  There never seems to be enough time to cover the vast space in Yellowstone Park and see all the beautiful sights there.  We left the park on our second day already making plans for next year.  Yes, we will be back, and chances are I'll be on my own bike.  That's right.  I've been bitten by the bug, and getting my motorcycle license and eventually having my own bike has officially been added to my bucket list.   

Boys and their toys.

Justin had some odd choices for riding attire this year.

   

 

An overcast day in Grand Teton National Park, but still beautiful.

 

Rest stop



  



 

 







Six Motorcycles, Yellowstone, Six Men and Me

About two months ago, Mike bought a Harley-Davidson motorcycle.  When he asked me what I thought about him buying it, I think he expected to hear a list of reasons why it didn’t make sense.  Little did he know, I love riding motorcycles.  Not only would it be fun, the price was right and the savings on gas made sense.  We’ve had fun taking short rides close to home but were anxious to take it out on a longer road trip. 


Mike proposed the idea of riding to Yellowstone National Park for a weekend with a few guys from Foley’s MMA Training Center, the gym he teaches at.  I was all in, and looking forward to a relaxing weekend with friends.  I soon found out I’d be the only female in the group of seven going on the trip.  I was less than thrilled to discover this, especially since I barely knew two of the men, and two more were complete strangers to me.  After some reassurances and cajoling by Mike, I reluctantly agreed to go on what I thought was going to be a testosterone fueled guy’s weekend.  Still, I complained that I’d be bored and out of place, especially since the conversation was sure to center around motorcycles and MMA fighting.  Not exactly subjects I have much knowledge of or interest in. Plus, we were going to be tent camping in bear country, which made me super anxious!  My attitude in the days leading up to the trip was one of reluctant acceptance.  I was definitely going to be out of my comfort zone.


We all met up at Foley’s the morning we left.  The variety of motorcycles everyone would be driving was as unique as their personalities.  Mike’s decked out Road King was definitely going to be the most comfortable.  Everyone teased him about his huge old man cruiser.  He dubbed his bike the “old man starter kit”. Everyone was excited to hit the road.  We all loaded up, and with a huge roar of engines, we were off.  It’s hard not be excited by the sound of a bunch of motorcycle engines loudly revving up and heading down the road.  At least for me it is.  I couldn’t help but smile and enjoy the moment.  

Ready to hit the road.

The morning was beautiful, and we all cruised along at a good speed stopping for gas every 80 miles or so.  After only one wrong turn and about 20 miles of back tracking we made it to Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  We did the usual touristy things there, snapping pictures in front of the arch made of antlers, and stopped for food and cold beers at the famous Million Dollar Cowboy Bar.  After that it was back on the bikes and into Yellowstone.  

Jackson Hole

We checked into a campsite and quickly got camp set up.  When we checked in we were told that three Grizzly Bears were living about 400 yards down the road and to follow every precaution to avoid attracting them.  Yikes!  That didn’t exactly set my mind at ease.  After a good dinner prepared by our camp chef extraordinaire, Mike, we spent a nice evening laughing and talking around a fire.  So far, there hadn’t been a single conversation about fighting, and the bike talk had been minimal.  In fact, that night we had a rather in-depth discussion about religion and beliefs about life after death.  I was relieved at the ease with which we all got along and how easy-going and fun the group was.  

After an uneventful night devoid of any bear visits, we were up for breakfast, then packed up and hit the road.  We spent some time sightseeing in the park that morning, including time at Old Faithful.  The plan was to leave the park via West Yellowstone and ride over Bear Tooth Pass, then back into the park to camp for the night.  We ended up taking a different route that took us through Cody, Wyoming.  We rode over Chief Joseph Highway, which was beautiful.   We still hoped to make it up Bear Tooth and back, but it was getting late and storm clouds were rolling in.  Everyone had warm clothes, but not all of us had full-length rain gear.  


We decided to take a chance and took off in a light rain.  Within minutes we were in a torrential downpour!  I was soaked to the bone and very cold.  We continued on until we finally reached a service station where we could change into dry, warmer clothes.  After some coffee, and putting on dry clothes and extra layers, things were more comfortable.  At 10,947 feet elevation, Bear Tooth Pass is the highest elevation road in the Northern Rockies.  Needless to say, it was cold and windy at the peak.  After a slow, cautious trip down, we rolled into Red Lodge, Montana cold, damp, hungry and tired.   During dinner we decided to get a motel and stay there that night.


The next day we were all rested, warm, refreshed and ready to tackle Bear Tooth Pass again, this time taking time to stop and enjoy the scenery along the way.  The ride was incredibly beautiful.  The view of glacial lakes and big, open blue sky is truly breathtaking.  It’s one of those places that reminds me what a tiny speck I am in this vast universe.  About halfway up the pass, I realized it was August 29th--15 months since the day my sister died.  I was determined not to let the thought ruin the ride and my enjoyment of the scenery.  But the more I took in the beauty and the feeling of absolute freedom and happiness I had, the sadder I became about her loss. Finally, I gave in to the tears as I once again mourned that she couldn’t see her way out of the darkness in her mind, choosing death over life.  If only I could have been there to remind her of the many reasons there were to live, including heart-stopping moments like this one, in a place that felt like I was on top of the world. 


As my tears dried, we started our descent, ending up in Cooke City, Montana where we stopped for lunch.  From there we headed back into Yellowstone.  Up to that point, the only wildlife we’d seen were some squirrels and hawks.  All of us were anxious to see some more exciting wildlife.  It wasn’t long before we saw moose, buffalo, and elk.  Alas, we didn’t see any bears.  While I don’t like the thought of sleeping in a tent with the possibility of a bear attack, viewing one from a safe distance would be cool.  

Near the top of Bear Tooth Pass

The rest of the day was spent going through the park, stopping at various points of interest along the way.  Then we started the long ride home.  Ultimately, the day turned out to be very long, with at least twelve hours of it spent on the bike.  I was exhausted, cranky and longing for my bed and sleep.  I finally fell asleep hunched over on Mike’s back, making the drive awkward and nerve-racking for him, because he had to keep shifting me so I wouldn’t fall off.  Finally, after 1,000 miles in three days, at nearly 1 a.m. we made it home.  


Despite the long, less than fun end to the trip, I had an amazingly good time.  Not only did I not have to endure talk about fighting and motorcycles, I was hilariously entertained, and got to know   people I might otherwise wouldn’t have known.  Yes, buying the motorcycle was a good choice, as I was once again reminded of all the unexpected joy and great experiences that come when I step out of my comfort zone.     

Last day, ready to head home.