You can't see it from here, but the Missouri River flows through west central Montana in the hazy distance. Remove the power poles and barbed wire fences and it's easy to imagine a herd of buffalo out there. This wide open country is near the small town of Carter's Ferry, about 25 miles north of Great Falls. This morning I packed up camp and headed for Carter's Ferry Crossing where the Montana DOT operates one of several ferry boats on the Missouri River.
The quiet and the view along the river was fantastic, but I was looking forward to the river crossing. I guided the bike back on to the gravel road and soon reached the Missouri River without any difficulty. But, what I found at the ferry crossing was both more and less, than what I had expected.
In front of me, the wide Missouri River flowed quietly from the west down toward St. Louis. Its calm surface was as smooth and reflective as a mirror. Across the river, the rugged hills and bluffs were a beautiful sight and despite the gloomy, dark, and cloudy sky, I had avoided any rain so far. Things were going just as I had planned - almost.
For some reason I had expected to find other people waiting to cross the river. But, aside from a couple of distant fishermen downstream, there was nobody else around. Also, the ferry "boat" I had expected to be waiting here was more of a floating platform. This platform was attached to a steel cable that was stretched across the river. I don't know why, but for some reason I had expected more.
Regardless, I was glad to have reached my destination, and pleased with my bike. After many miles of highway riding, the KLR had easily handled the ugly gravel road that led me here. Now, the next step was to find whoever was in charge of running the ferry and see about a ride across the river.
To be continued in my next post...
Five miles of rough gravel road led down to the ferry crossing. My bike was loaded down like a pack animal and when I saw the sorry condition of that road, I paused to reconsider going down to the river. But, I had not came this far to turn back now. I throttled ahead and stood on the pegs as the KLR rolled off the pavement and plowed into the loose gravel that led to the ferry crossing.
It was soon clear that my apprehensions about the heavily loaded KLR on this road were needless. Despite the heavy load and stock suspension, the bike handled the ruts, pot holes, and loose gravel without any problems. As I rolled onward, my trust in the bike was rewarded with some awesome views of the Missouri River valley.
This was a desolate area with no other people or vehicles in sight and even more disturbing, no cell phone service. I was totally alone and noticed how quiet it was when I stopped for some pictures. The only sound was the tall prairie grass rustled by the breeze. Somewhere in the distance a few crows called to one another. I confess it felt a bit strange and a little lonely.
While taking some pictures the thought occurred to me, if this bike does not start, I will have a long walk to find help. I decided it was best not to dwell on that thought. So, I made up my mind to just enjoy the moment and the adventure of "the road less traveled."
The quiet and the view along the river was fantastic, but I was looking forward to the river crossing. I guided the bike back on to the gravel road and soon reached the Missouri River without any difficulty. But, what I found at the ferry crossing was both more and less, than what I had expected.
In front of me, the wide Missouri River flowed quietly from the west down toward St. Louis. Its calm surface was as smooth and reflective as a mirror. Across the river, the rugged hills and bluffs were a beautiful sight and despite the gloomy, dark, and cloudy sky, I had avoided any rain so far. Things were going just as I had planned - almost.
For some reason I had expected to find other people waiting to cross the river. But, aside from a couple of distant fishermen downstream, there was nobody else around. Also, the ferry "boat" I had expected to be waiting here was more of a floating platform. This platform was attached to a steel cable that was stretched across the river. I don't know why, but for some reason I had expected more.
Regardless, I was glad to have reached my destination, and pleased with my bike. After many miles of highway riding, the KLR had easily handled the ugly gravel road that led me here. Now, the next step was to find whoever was in charge of running the ferry and see about a ride across the river.
To be continued in my next post...
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