halfjeep

The previous night I started looking for a campsite after the sun had set. Two motorcyclists offered me to share their spot at an already full campsite that I had found along the road but they also informed me of another campsite a little ahead which I decided to check out first. I found the second campsite a few minutes later and there was one spot left. I parked my bike in front of where I wanted to set up my tent so I could illuminate the spot with my lights which attracted all the mosquitoes in the US but once I had the tent up and a fire going they disappeared. I was the only one still up at this hour and I finally went to bed after midnight with a stomach full of grilled sausages.

The next morning the mosquitoes were merciless in the shade.

As I started packing my things while having a little cereal breakfast I wanted to prepare my GoPro camera for the day but after searching every possible crack I still could not find it. I realized I must have lost it. Most likely the magnet mount I built for the metal panniers had come off on bumpy ground and I immediately had a suspicion where. The previous day about 10km back I had just reached level ground coming down the mountains when I suddenly felt a massive bump in the road. I hadn’t seen any obstacle on the road in my headlights so I just kept going after a quick stop to check the bike over.

I always have a red neon ribbon tied to the little camera so I would be able to spot it in cases I ever lost it. As I backtracked my way (which was easy because my GPS logged my previous path) I found the ribbon and the camera on the road. Luckily nobody had taken it home an no car had rolled over it.

The cheap protective casing I had used had broken off the mount but the camera looked fine despite it smashing to the ground at 70km/h when I hit this pothole:

I was fully expecting the camera to be broken internally and the previously recorded footage to be gone but when I came back to my campsite to check it the memory card the data was all there and even the camera worked like nothing had happened. This camera has taken a lot of abuse in the seven years I have had it and it’s truly indestructible.

I glued the broken housing pieces together and by noon was finally on my way east into the park.

Progress didn’t last long and the bikes handling showed me that it too needed attention. A chain adjustment was in order which I could do in the shade of a little tree which even had a chair ready for me.

The job was quickly done and the handling improved noticeably.

Back in the National Park I spotted a big herd of buffaloes grazing on a prairie.

Further on I noticed cars stopping on the side of the road. A park ranger was there too along with three bears. A sow with two cubs. They were 200 meters away though so it was was only possible to see a few dark spots in the shadow of a tree. Everybody wanted to be closer like one lady who drove her flashy BMW into the ditch.

Back at the center of the park I met a family again which I had had a nice chat with two days ago further Norther in the park. They admired the bike and were very interested in my trip. They had driven to the park from Colorado. I found it interesting that that many people including this family had come from quite far. Many of the license plates in the park were from all over the US, not just the adjacent states. Road trips are a big thing in the US and much more common than in Europe.

Shortly after I met a fellow motorcyclist who traveled on his big BMW K1300GT and I finally had the opportunity to get some first hand feedback on the motorcycle jacked I have been planing to buy for a long time, the Klim Latitude Jacket he was wearing. He was very happy with it and recommended it highly. Unfortunately it has become so expensive recently that I decided to not buy it.

Always hungry I decided to get instant noodles from the tiny convenience store there and I shared a table with an interesting group of people. There were two friendly and curious couples in their 60s who were travelling the West coast for few weeks. I had a great chat with them until they told me that they were Mormon missionaries. First I thought they were screwing with me because they had seemed so – normal. I don’t know what I expected Mormon missionaries to be like but apparently I at least expected them to be recognizable as crazy people from afar. Yet they seemed genuine, reasonable and friendly. Still I suddenly felt uncomfortable in their presence. They asked me if I knew anything about Mormons which I denied so they proceeded to tell me that all of them had lived abroad for many years doing their missionary work in South America and Africa. They had now left this work to their children who were just enthusiastic about it as them. It surprised me how baffled I was to experience these people as completely normal. They even went as far as offering me a place to stay once I reached Utah when I told them that it was my plan to also see Salt Lake City. They were excited to hear that I would have the chance to see all the big Mormon temples which Salt Lake City is know for because the church has it’s center there. I wanted to ask them to explain their religion to me but I felt it would be rude because I wasn’t sure I would be able to pretend I didn’t find it weird. After offering me some of their desert and me promising I would visit the Temple Square in Salt Lake City we parted ways and I eventually changed my heading from East to South to leave the park behind for the last time.

The afternoon sun made it and endurance challenge to reach the scenic outposts scattered around the main road in full gear.