Billings Lunch Ride

On June 9, 2010, three of us set out from Morrison, Colorado, to ride to Billings, Montana, for lunch. We left from the Conoco station at Morrison Road and C-470 at 4:00 a.m. The weather was overcast and cool but we escaped with only a minor sprinkle as we approached the Wyoming state line.

Our first stop was at Wheatland, WY, and the other two guys were a bit nervous about gas consumption by then. It was only a distance of 180 miles or so, but they were both on Harleys with smaller tanks and less fuel efficient than my Beemer. The scenery was wonderful and traffic virtually non-existent once we got out of Cheyenne. I don’t know if I have ever seen Wyoming so green.

The next stretch was originally planned to Buffalo, WY, but we revised it based on their fuel needs and took a short hop (60 miles) to Douglas, WY, so that they wouldn’t have to worry (or run out!) From Buffalo, we rode on to the Flying J truck stop on the east edge of Billings, arriving shortly after noon. We tanked up and went across the street (Old Hardin Rd) to the Subway Sandwich shop. Everything was going according to schedule. The return trip was to be more eventful.

I was in the lead on the first section coming back. Right after crossing back into Wyoming, I noticed that Steve was dropping off behind me, and I couldn’t see Bob at all. We were in a big downhill sweeper, and by the time I stopped, I couldn’t see either of the guys behind me. I thought, ‘Maybe the scenery was so fantastic that Bob just had to stop for an unscheduled photo and Steve stopped because Bob stopped.’ I wish it had been that simple.

We were on Interstate-90, so I couldn’t just make a u-turn and go check on them. I waited 10 minutes and took a couple of photos myself. But when they didn’t show up, I decided to go back. I proceeded about ½ mile to the nearest exit and headed back toward Montana and Crow Country. Soon I saw Steve’s bike on the shoulder but he wasn’t with the bike. A bit farther and I spotted both men standing (that was good to see) beside Bob’s bike which was upright (also good) on the shoulder of the road. By the time I re-entered Montana without finding an exit, I decided (rightly or wrongly) that this qualified as an emergency, so I used one of those crossovers that are only for authorized or emergency purposes.

When I got back to Steve and Bob, I learned that Bob had had a front-tire blowout. Thankfully, he was able to control the bike and get it stopped, though not without some nervous moments. We were prepared to plug a puncture, but Bob’s tire, while looking like a perfectly serviceable tire in all respects, with lots of tread, had blown a huge chunk of tread right off the center and was completely trashed. It looked like what might happen if someone could ignite an m-80 inside an inflated tire.

Fortunately, Bob had cell-phone coverage and had subscribed to roadside towing services. He also had internet service on his phone and soon discovered that he could arrange for a tow truck to come get him from Sheridan, WY, where there was also a Honda shop that had the tire he needed.

Steve and I agonized over whether to leave Bob at the side of the road or to wait for the help that was already arranged, and then finish the ride together. After discussing many scenarios, we decided that staying with him would offer him no material help and would heap unfair pressure on him, when the right decision for him might be to get a motel and take a DNF (did not finish) on this Saddle Sore ride. Our staying would mean that it was unthinkable for him to hinder our success and he would have to push on, regardless of what he really needed to do for himself.

Bob really wanted us to go on and we saw that he was able to arrange all the necessary help. So Steve prayed for all of us and we said goodbye. Steve and I headed on south, but I didn’t relax until I spotted the tow-truck heading out of Sheridan and going toward Bob’s rescue.

Steve and I had lost about an hour on the roadside with Bob, but we had plenty of margin built into our schedule. And we had reminded Bob that he still had the possibility of finishing in time if he got the tire replaced before the shop in Sheridan closed. He only had to document 1000 miles before 4:00 a.m. the next morning. He didn’t have to make it all the way home, since the entire ride was planned for over 1100 miles.

When Steve and I stopped for gas in Casper, I checked my phone and Bob had texted me. The shop in Sheridan was staying open late to take care of him and he was going to take a quick nap on the couch in their waiting area. We quit worrying about him but did not stop praying for him.

We stopped for gas one last time in Wheatland, WY, just before sundown and had no more messages from Bob. When we were almost home, so close that we could taste victory, we were delayed for half an hour (that seemed much longer) when we came upon a bridge replacement project at I-25 and 104th Ave in Northglenn, a suburb of Denver. Suddenly four lanes had to merge into one lane, which eventually went up the exit ramp where officials would occasionally stop the flow completely to allow cross traffic to pass. It was agonizingly slow to creep 1.5 miles in half an hour after blasting along at highway speeds for more than a dozen hours. But eventually we passed through the eye of the needle, like the Biblical camel, and made it back to the starting point at about 11:15 p.m.

At that point, we were able to reach Bob’s wife and learned that he was already in Ft. Collins, CO, gassing up. Bob made it home safe and sound, just two hours behind us, and well before the 4:00 a.m. close of our 24-hour window. Praise God for a successful and incredibly beautiful ride!