The First Harley Trip, 2014 Part 7: Heading to Niagara Springs, Idaho

The First Harley Trip, 2014

Part 7: Heading to Niagara Springs, Idaho  

“You got to be careful if you don’t know where you’re going, because you might not get there.” ~ Yogi Berra

Just a few miles from my dad’s house is the Umatilla Indian Reservation. Hotrod told me that the Wildhorse Casino on the reservation serves the best breakfast buffet. I decided to give it a try, thinking that too much bacon sounded delicious and like a really good idea. Walking through the casino to get to the restaurant, I noticed that the only ones that were there at 7 AM (other than the employees and myself) were a rag-tag bunch of your garden variety chain-smoking hungover losers, shoveling their quarters and government subsidies into the slot-machines. A bit amused, I got a sense that some tribal genius figured out that Indian gaming casinos are the perfect revenge against the white devils accused of someone else’s atrocities from days long past.  Karma is a bitch, I suppose.

For some reason, the buffet was closed so I ordered off of the regular menu. Not exactly the 2 pounds of bacon I had envisioned but the large stack of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs all covered in a generous serving of artificial maple syrup seemed like a reasonable substitute.

Somehow, the order got screwed up. They forgot the pancakes and brought me fried eggs……I guess Karma has no boundaries.

After finishing breakfast, I fired up Dorothy and left the casino’s parking lot headed for the gas station at the lot’s edge. As I left, I heard the unmistakable sound of two Harleys leaving the lot headed towards the gas pumps. As I got nearer, I noticed one on the riders was wearing the colors from the same MC club as my brother’s club. Parking Dorothy at my pump, I approached the two, offered a handshake, and introduced myself.  “I’m Glenn, Hotrod’s brother.” A moment of silence, a hard stare, and then, “Get the fuck outta here. You’re Hotrod’s brother? Damn, glad to meet you. Heard a lot about you. I’m Marshall and this is my dad, Butch.”

Over the years, I’ve heard stories about these two going back to the days when Marshall was just a little pup. Imagine randomly meeting them out in the middle of nowhere at some gas station on the reservation. Fate, I suppose. They had some business to attend to and then they were also headed towards the club’s spring opener in Niagara Springs, Idaho. I looked forward to spending some time getting to know them.

Heading east and then south, I made it to the Idaho border. From a cyclist’s standpoint, the world just changed. California and Oregon both have strict helmet laws and more restrictive speed limits, more reflective of their left leaning liberal legislatures that insist that if a little government is good, more must certainly be better. Idahoans, loving their freedoms and less government shoved up their asses, allow the rider to determine what’s best for themselves and if a skid-lid isn’t in the picture, then so be it. Idaho also has an 80 MPH speed limit (which really means 85+ MPH) and lots of fully loaded logging trucks……I soon discovered I had just signed up for an 8 hour E-Ticket ride.

Not having a choice, I was forced to ride a bit faster than I care to ride on crowded highways. Flow of traffic has a way of taking that choice away from you. By late afternoon, I made it to our rendezvous location, a truck stop called “The Farmhouse Restaurant” in the small town of Wendell, Idaho.

I was about half way into my order of Diet Coke, cheeseburger, and fries when Hotrod arrived……and trust me, Hotrod knows how to make an arrival! He enters the restaurant and all eyes are on him. He has that kind of charisma. Plus, he knew just about everyone in the restaurant. 25+ years in the game you get to know a few people.

After eating, we made our way several miles down a farm road that led us down the side of a mountain on a long steep dirt road (Niagara Springs Grade) and into the Snake River Gorge, and then to the campgrounds at Niagara Springs State Park. Other riders had already arrived and had their tents pitched. From that point on, it was a steady flow of riders all arriving for the Spring Opener and the buzz and orderly confusion of several of the clubs Prospects getting the kitchen, bar, and music area set up and prepared for the next 4 days.