Motorcycling is pretty straightforward: Oh, here's water, so I'll take it slow an easy; uh oh, here's a patch of gravel, so I'll get it and go. But life doesn't always present itself in such an easy-to-figure-out way.
Carter dug Denbeigh's grave in the back yard with a little moral support from a neighbor. The old Corgi was the only dog either of my boys had ever known as a family member.
The 11-mile stretch is said to have 318 curves. I could believe somewhere in excess of 100 if you count the tiny wobbles off a straight line, but not 318. Oh well, why quibble? It's fun!
It’s one of the legendary roads that riders talk about with a mix of pride and wistful sighs; pride for having braved it, and a sighs at witnessing nature unadulterated.
I entered the Wyoming Frontier Prison Museum with a breezy attitude, looking forward to seeing the place where colorful outlaws paid their public debts. I emerged a very different person. Here's why.
I wasn't there to explore the Northwest Passage, I was there to ride the Lolo Pass. At the summit, I met Clark the biker and Henry the pannier dog, one of many canine bikers I've met.