Stop.

My rear tire has no more treads and I can’t ride it much longer. This is trouble. In these remote places there aren’t many motorcycle shops and rarely they carry the tires for my bike.

I left the magical campsite, 120 miles to Kalispell, the nearest biggest town on the way Glacier. If I can’t replace it, I might try a risky scoot to Missoula. And I won’t be able to ride Rt. 3 in Canada.

I reach town and start calling shops. It’s also Monday. The Sunday no work of motorcycle shops. I got a hold of a shop that has a fitting tire but next available appointment is in 3 weeks. I ride there to get the tire, chat with the parts guy Dwayne and he gets me in first thing tomorrow morning. Great. Got a motel room, laundry, hot tub and early chill.

Met a couple in huge bus like RV in a pub. A retired aerospace engineer from Alabama, Boeing, no kids, semi pro banjo player in a band, played Telluride bluegrass festival. Nicee.

Walked 1.5 miles to another pub in the downtown. Beer, great pizza, peanuts saloon. Asshole bartender. Forgot my wallet, no phone tapping. A fellow bar patron handed me two casino tokens, for two beers.

Welcome to America. Thank you!

Stopped on the way in what felt like rest area but was beautiful 1/4 mile walk over railroad tracks bridge to beautiful waterfalls.

I guess the not much of a photos blog today.

It’s a stop day. Finally. 

Just could not slow down until now. What am I running from? To?

My head is moving in the same speed and distance as the bike.  It should be able to break away or catch up with my mind and soul. Maybe we are all riding together but kinda each busy in their own world, each on their phone. I should create a group chat with my mind and soul. WhatsApp or Signal?

Enough spinning for one day. Beer time. Again.

Oh, and the stickers collection grows although I missed a few in Canada.

Good night.