Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

My Birthday... started with a call to Tracy so she could wish me a Happy Birthday, which was followed by a breakfast of 2 eggs over-easy and 4 links (sausages) with a cup of black tea (what I would have done for a proper brew...) at a cafe over the bridge from the hotel. Then back to the hotel to finish packing and load the bike, then drop my bike gear off in the communal “late-checkout” room before joining Richard, Karen, Kevin, Julia, Jeff, Chris and Kenny for the rafting trip.

A short walk to their headquarters and we were kitted out with lifejackets and given our oars and then the short bus-ride to the start of the run down the river. This was at the highest point that boats can be launched, and the river was flowing very quickly with white water all the way down and under the bridge by the hotel. As we were being given our pre-launch briefing, a mother deer and her fawn came to the river's edge about 60 yards upstream and started to cross. Mother made it without any problems, but baby got washed a way downstream before managing to scramble ashore. With our cameras safely in the rooms, we couldn't take any pictures, which is a pity...

We then carried the boat, a big inflatable raft, down to the shore and assumed our positions. As birthday boy I was naturally placed up front so I would get most wet, and managed to cajole Kevin into assuming the position alongside me, on the port side (left). I had originally been in this position, but as you sit on the gunwale (outer edge of the raft) and wedge your foot under the inside of the raft to prevent you falling in, I couldn't do that as it twisted my right knee too much. When launched, we hit the white water, the raft bouncing up and down and a large mass of water completely drenched both Kevin and me. That set the tone for most of the way down the river, with both Kevin and I trying to ensure at least some of the water made its way back to the others.

The guide was really informative, pointing our local landmarks and explaining their interesting history, but as I didn't have my notebook with me, I can only remember sketchy details... The team were itching to get me off the raft and into the water, but with the number of rocks creating the white water, I was safe for a while at least, just enjoying getting soaked as we hit deep waves. Then the guide announced the next set of rapids were known as “Swimmer's Rapids” and was where local swimmers “surfed” the rapids. That was the cue they'd been waiting for, but before they got their chance I rugby-tackled Kevin and we both went over the side into the water... struggling to regain the surface I must have swallowed half the Yellowstone River, but it was worth it to ensure I wasn't in there alone (Kevin knew he'd also be going in at some point, but I still think I caught him by surprise!). Chris and Kenny then joined us, as we lay on our backs, feet forwards in the Yellowstone Swimming position, and floated through the rough water of the rapids, getting swamped by water and grabbing breaths as soon as we surfaced again. After a while of drifting, the guide started getting a little concerned that we were approaching the next rapids and need to get back into the boat, so those left in the boat did a great job of getting to us – any attempt by us to swim back to the boat were useless as the current was so strong (even though it was possible to touch the bottom with our feet, the current immediately pushed us over). They then hauled us back into the boat by our lifejackets, and once we were safely back, we continued downstream, feeling the cold wind bite through our soaked bodies. Just as we'd dry out a bit, we'd hit another patch of rapids and get soaked again...

As we arrived at another area of relatively calm water, Kevin leapt off the side, grabbing Jeff's lifejacket as he went. Jeff, who really hates the cold, struggled to stay in the boat, grabbing Richard's arm and clinging on for dear life. So the rest of us had to join in and ensure Jeff went in. When he got back in the boat, he looked freezing and we were concerned he'd end up with hypothermia he looked so cold... he changed into some dry clothes and eventually stopped shivering. Finally, just before we got to the bus to take us back, we gave Richard, Julia and Karen the choice – as they hadn't yet been in the river, they could go in willingly or otherwise... wisely, they all decided to jump in...

Safely back on shore, we dried off as best we could, then the bus took us back to town. It had been a great way to spend the morning of my birthday, if a little cold and wet...





Back at the hotel, we all got changed out of our wet clothes and into our bike gear, and then rode into Yellowstone National Park. We stopped at Mammoth Hot Springs for a coffee and hot-dog, and whilst parking the bikes up next to a couple of Harley's including a rather nice purple-and-chrome chopper we noticed a couple of bikers walking a little chihuahua. As we were wondering how they took the dog on the bike, the guy picked her up and put her in a bag on his chest and then put a pair of big yellow goggles on her...





The dog's name was Apple, and when Richard asked her owner how old she was, he replied “about 60,000 miles”... They certainly made quite a sight...





After lunch we rode into the park proper, stopping off at Mammoth Hot Springs to marvel at the weird landscape created by the hot spring water rising to the surface, bringing with it an intense smell of sulphur and leaving behind great pools of white and yellow deposits, in strange patterns, some terraced and some more like miniature “hoodoos” like those at Bryce Canyon. Very strange...





From Mammoth, we rode further into the park, passing beautiful lakes surrounded by green forests, and past hillsides where the forest still showed evidence of the devastating fires of 1988, when some 793,000 acres of the park's 2.2m acres were burned, despite the efforts of 25,000 firefighters. Even now, the evidence of this devastation (1.2m acres were scorched, the fire affecting over half the park), with new growth vying for space amongst the deadwood. But Yellowstone is more famous for its hot-springs and geysers and these are everywhere and take on many forms, from steaming hillsides to spouting geysers, to bubbling pools of sulphur to boiling rivers... and all set in a beautiful forest. Quite a place...








With so much beauty around, it took a little while to get to our hotel, the historic “Old Faithful Inn” right next to the famous geyser of the same name. This inn, built originally in 1903 and opened the following year, has survived intact through numerous severe winters, a 7.5 magnitude earthquake and many fires, including the devastating fire of 1988. It is built of local materials, mostly pine, and whilst it has been extended many times, continues to blend in well with the landscape. Once checked in and showered (no en-suite as we're staying in some of the original 140 rooms right in the centre of the main building) it was time to go and watch Old Faithul from the balcony.

This geyser gets its name from the fact that it “erupts” every 90 minutes or so, almost like clockwork, attracting huge crowds to watch the display. We joined the throng on the balcony of the Inn, and waited. And waited. And waited. It teased us with spurts of steam, sometimes accompanied by small outburts of hot water, before finally erupting proper, sending a massive plume of water high into the sky... how high is evident in the picture below, the crowed in front of the geyser are only a few yards from it...





With that display over, we retired to the bar, to await the ritual humiliation that is bestowed upon anyone on the Trans-Am unfortunate enough to have their birthday on the trip... my turn...

And so it began, with the group forming a circle with me at the centre, and master-of-ceremonies, Kevin, explaining that the “gifts” had been chosen to match the surroundings and local customs of the area we'd just been travelling through. First, was the card, signed by all the group and containing more than one reference to my liking of a beer or two, and more than one to my enjoyment of fast riding... and several references to me being a “Grand-pa” (seems I've made an impression, one way or another...). Then came the presents. First off, a “Life is Crap” tee-shirt (if you've ever seen the “Life is Good” range, this is similar...). It has a big sign saying “Out of Beer... Life is Crap” - appropriate... Then there was the hat. All birthday folk get headgear they have to wear that evening, and mine was a crushable cowboy hat (which I really like!). Then a sherrif's badge (affixed to the hat for the evening), a “bear bell” to warn away any bears and attached strategically to my belt (see photo), a shot-glass complete with miniature bear handle, a bottle of beer in a cooling sleeve with the words “Instant Arsehole – Just add beer” (where do they find this stuff?) and finally a pair of spoons, pinched from the girls we met back in Bigfork...





I think I got away quite lightly, considering...

Before dinner we also had the minor task of awarding this week's “Prat Hat” for the daftest thing done all week by a TransAmer. The nominations this week were whittled down to 3 pretty easily, as only 3 people were nominated. Nigel for a minor indiscretion in the golf-club (which got practically no votes); Jeff, for 2 offenses – first, getting stopped for speeding (he talked his way out of the ticket) but trying to avoid anyone finding out, 2nd for behaving like a girl when being thrown in the river; and Jim, for leading Mac and Andrew astray and into riding without helmets in the park (to be fair, Mac instigated it, but Jim somehow managed to talk himself into prime position). With the defences heard, Jeff's reminder that we may all need his help at some point, and Jim's comment about his Suzuki being somehow better than all the BMWs, the final voting was almost unanymous and Jim got the hat... I think it suits him...





Dinner was a big buffet in the main restaurant, and I managed to avoid drinking too much red wine or eating too much, although that's a relative term, as I had a bowl of soup, a large fresh-shrimp salad, a plate of bison steak, mash and green beans and a portion of bread-and-butter pudding. Stuffed, I sat back to watch Kevin finish off his 3rd plate of Bison (following 2 plates of shrimp salad) and was then accosted by the entire waiting staff who wanted to sing me a special birthday song. When they started with the words “Show me a home where the buffalo roam”, I was expecting the comedy version (next line “and I'll show you a house with a very messy carpet”), but, no, this was the real Yellowstone version. They then presented me a with a birthday cake, which I cut into very small pieces and shared with the group, before we retired to the bar for a nightcap. As my final act on my birthday, I bought a round of 4 double Balvenies and a beer, and wished I hadn't as it cost $66!

I then went to bed, having had a great day...