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This was the time that we were very close to our destination. What color
          you wonder, it’s yellow and stone, the amazing park, sprawling midst the
          Grand Teton Mountain Range. Oh man, were we in for a ride of a life-
          time!
              The three youngsters wanted to do some rock climbing and the 2 old
          guys didn’t, so we split up. They ventured off into the parks directly while
          the older brothers chose to enter Yellowstone via Beartooth pass out of
          Red Lodge Montana, (state #6) at the northern end of the park. The ele-
          vation there is 5568ft.  and that makes the canyon almost a mile deep.
          Sleeping in a tent on another camper site, by invitation was great but,
          darn cold. The morning was a maze of frost. Motorcycles, roads, and we
          were covered. Our decent down the side of a cliff on hair pin turns was
          quite testy. My second big mistake here was fussing with my radio, and
          in a split second of distraction found myself about 3 feet from becoming
          air born. Shock set in as I was scared! I regained my composure at the
          base of the pass after my top speed was about 20 MPH on the trek down.
          Just darn dumb!

          Yellowstone was amaz-
          ing, with scenic, twisty,
          mountain roads, lots of
          wildlife, green forests
          and the Yellowstone
          River flowing with white
          water. I called it liquid
          ice after bathing in it,
          for a very short wash.
          The Old Faithful Geyser
          was a treat and didn’t
          miss a beat, erupting
          every 90 minutes to heights of between 106 and 185 ft. and spewing
          3700 to 8400 gallons of H2O at each event. What a sight!
          Well after wheeling through the park we were homeward bound. Ne-
          braska (state # 7) and Iowa (state #8) but not so great. While in Iowa,
          nephew Rich and I failed to wear our jackets that morning, thinking it’s
          going to be warm enough, it was not. After motioning for the others to
          continue, while we stopped to jacket up, we would catch up. Cruising at
          100 MPH was so cool. The other three bikes were now in sight and a fly
          by at high speed would be shocking, and it was.
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            February 2020            The Snomad               Page 14
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