June 26, 2010 – The Road Home

I was glad to finally see that Days Inn in Indianapolis in my rear-view mirror. This immediately brightened my day! Good thing, because we were heck-bent-for-leather on our way back home. This was our target return day and we could not be late. So we shoveled more coal into the fire and kept up the steam, flagrantly speeding down the track until we came to a bend and were going too fast...wait, that's a bluegrass train song I'm thinking about.

We were actually making good time through OH along I-70 and swept through there at an excellent pace. We wheeled through Wheeling, WV, the southwest corner of PA and back through another little stretch of WV (for Interstate, this is really pretty scenic) and then we were back in our home state of Maryland...The Free State...The Old Line State...Home of the Star Spangled Banner...Blue Crabs...yes, our home. We appreciated the beautiful green hills and valleys, carpeted with lush trees like we had not seen them in weeks…which was exactly the case because we had come west originally on this same route three weeks ago. We arrived back home at Fort Alexander at 8:47pm. We moved Lewis and Clark into their own back yard again around which they gleefully ran and baptized every vertical object. We were all glad to be home. I'll be writing more in a few days after I have a chance to review notes and ruminate on the entire expedition.

Thank you, Faithful Reader for keeping up with all this nonsense as our little party rambled across the continent and back again. It was good to know you were following our progress with the same "great anxiety" for our safe return that Thomas Jefferson held for the original Lewis and Clark. We are proud to have followed their trail in our small way (with infinitely more speed, conveniences and comforts) and by doing, gained both a greater respect for their accomplishments and an even greater sense of pride in our nation and the potential it holds for us all.

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=I-70+E&daddr=39.322878,-76.776581+to:randallstown,+md&hl=en&geocode=FcJUXwIdfvLf-g%3B%3BFaCyWAIdjDJs-ykbdWM4FBjIiTEtW4JPhS3spA&mra=dme&mrcr=0&mrsp=1&sz=12&via=1&sll=39.326065,-76.820183&sspn=0.136241,0.308647&ie=UTF8&z=12

June 25, 2010 – Beating It Across Illinois and Into Indiana

"Beating It" is Poetic License and sarcasm for the pace we made across much of Illinois coming out of Iowa. I should have probably applied for my Poetic Learner’s Permit first, but I figured, just go for it. Glad we had a nice rest the day before because that frantic pace of 15 MPH would have just been too much for us otherwise. Apparently, all the Chicagoland area (which must be something approximating the size of Australia) was dotted with road construction...big dots...some of them for miles. Summer is the time for road repairs however, and that's all I'm going to say about that, to borrow from Forest Gump.

Illinois calls itself the "Land of Lincoln", and understandably so. But, it is also the "Ground of Grant" as we learned while traveling the Memorial Highway for this General and President whom Lincoln so loved because he was actually effective as a field commander while smoking cigars and drinking up all Lincoln’s spare whiskey, leaving the empty bottles for Lincoln’s kids to collect for the deposit money. I don't know if Lincoln's kids tried to smoke the cigar butts, but life was hard in those days.

We rode many miles and made camp in Indianapolis in quite possibly the worst Days Inn...no, the worst hotel of any stripe I have ever lodged. Put it this way, no one could have done further damage to this room that would possibly worsen its condition. It was ready for one of those cleansing fires like they did in the movie Ben Hur after moving the lepers out of their dungeon cell. I would have gladly slept outside, but they charged a higher rate for that. They know something.

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Dubuque,+IA&daddr=I-80+E+to:I-74+E+to:39.802206,-85.98175&hl=en&geocode=Fc6BiAIdhJGY-inThorAhCvjhzFHcaMmxh6-tA%3BFdA4dwIdWgmx-g%3BFU7daAIdTKyy-g%3B&mra=dme&mrcr=0&mrsp=3&sz=10&via=1,2&sll=39.692394,-85.77301&sspn=0.542096,1.234589&ie=UTF8&ll=39.789281,-85.896606&spn=0.135334,0.308647&z=12

June 24, 2010 – A Day of Rest

Not much to say here...we'd been on the road for close to three weeks and I've learned where all the sore spots develop when you ride. It was time for a rest day so that bodily tissues could heal. The stopover was suitably slow and relaxed. We did watch the Denmark-Japan World Cup game which was fun. No dirigibles soared over the game and I cannot remember any commercials coming on, but this three-foot-high fence around the field kept flashing different corporate logos every few seconds. I felt compelled to buy some things at the time but now for the life of me cannot remember what they were.

There was no trail to follow today!

June 23, 2010 – Thunder and Lightning Overnight, a Farmer’s Breakfast, Spider and Bologna Sandwiches, More Riding, Two Museums & Steve McQueen (again)

We had a lot of weather action overnight, but the rain let up around dawn and the sun shined most of the day. We breakfasted in Atlantic, IA at the Farmer's Kitchen, home of flapjacks about the size of wheel covers. Seriously. I had mine with two scrambled eggs and Tabasco and was lovin' life.

We rode slowly out of town as the Police HQ is next door to the Farmer's Kitchen and it is best not to antagonize LEOs with any wild riding antics in town. Don't ask me how I know this. We headed east on I-80 a ways to the exit for John Wayne's birthplace in Winterset, IA. This is the place that Marion Robert Morrison saw his first light though it was the sun and not a Marlboro. We didn't take the tour because the building was pretty small and I figured John Wayne's really valuable stuff was either in California or possibly fell out of his pockets out in the badlands where the western movies were filmed. My best guess is that this place might have had some of his parents' stuff and maybe some of his old school report cards or baby shoes (baby cowboy boots?). I did take some photos of the place for my Uncle Buddy, an avid John Wayne fan, retired Marine and famed thrower of golf clubs. My Uncle Tony once quipped that Buddy could throw his club further than he could hit a ball.

Stopped for lunch along I-80--bologna sandwiches and spiders. The spiders were not placed on the sandwiches intentionally, but I wondered what their nutritional value might be as we brushed them away as they fell upon us from the upper reaches of the picnic shelter where we sat. Not much fiber, but plenty of protein is my guess.

We continued up the road to Iowa City and just east of there, headed northeast passing through the town of Solon (whether this rhymes with Salon, Saloon or Colon--I just don't know) to the National Motorcycle Museum up in Anamosa, IA. When we arrived it was closed due to them moving to another location in town. However, the staff was busily packing and moving items and was happy to stop dripping sweat on antique motorcycles and memorabilia for a few minutes to chat. A couple of other visitors had ridden there specifically to see the exhibits and were visibly shuddering with fury that they could not enter to view all the cool old stuff. Threats were made, spittle flew out of deep, red angry faces and nothing really happened. So it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut used to write. As things were being moved, we did see some old Indian, Curtiss, H-D, Triumph (of course), Henderson and other bikes. They were supposed to have Steve McQueen's 1947 Indian somewhere in there, but I didn't see that being moved. I reckon it had moved on already, much like Steve himself.

A short ride further north took us to J&P Cycles, also in Anamosa, IA. I've ordered stuff from these folks and figured I'd stop by to say "hello". They were busy as hello is all I can say. There were four LEOs from multiple jurisdictions all comparing notes on how to set up a speed trap. I don't know if this was the equivalent of a convention or seminar, but they kept to themselves and let the bikers be.

We met a Canadian couple at J&P who had dropped their Goldwing. The bike wasn't badly damaged, but he had some cracked ribs and couldn't ride. Or sneeze. Or laugh. Or cough. She was already injured from a drop with her own bike about 10 weeks prior and had been following him with the family pick-up truck. Nobody was riding the Goldwing home, so we speculated whether it could be placed in the bed of the pickup. After some careful measurements (always travel with a measuring tape is my advice), we all felt confident it could be safely done if secured properly. Our Lewis & Clark party felt particularly confident in this opinion because their trip home to Canada would not involve us and we did not use our real names during the introductions. We wished them well on their return to the Great White North.

By this point, the day was drawing down and we made it to Dubuque, IA on the Mississippi. Plans call for a brief rest here and then continue toward home on Friday and Saturday. Wish us well on our return to the Great Damp East!

Here's today's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=E+7th+St%2FWhite+Pole+Rd&daddr=US-6+E%2FUS-71+N%2F650th+St+to:I-80+E+to:IA-1+N%2FN+Market+St+to:US-151+N+to:Co+Rd+E28%2FE+Main+St+to:13225+Circle+Drive+Anamosa,+IA+52205+to:42.486824,-90.633996&hl=en&geocode=Fd_FdwIdxJ1W-g%3BFaVAeAIdDj9X-g%3BFXsGfAIdEWlw-g%3BFRIOfgIdoOOL-g%3BFbn8gQIdRAqP-g%3BFYKFggIdKx2P-g%3BFfjKggIdF3KP-injjhdkRpzkhzEnVXfeMODxbg%3B&mra=mi&mrcr=5&mrsp=7&sz=15&via=4&sll=42.484789,-90.637422&sspn=0.016679,0.038581&ie=UTF8&ll=41.881831,-92.807007&spn=2.155225,4.938354&z=8

June 22, 2010 – Storms Spared Us, Nebraska is Uneventful Yet Aromatic, Another Steve McQueen Reference, Iowa is Full of Steak

Only light rain overnight after some threatening looking skies at sunset. No rain today at all. Hot but great weather for the extremely uneventful yet sometimes aromatic ride from Ogallala, NE through to Lincoln, NE and sweeping north to a town just south of Omaha, NE called Papillion...not Papillon like the Steve McQueen movie (while he rode no motorcycle in that, he did protect Dustin Hoffman from those who would do him harm, smoked a cigar with a leper, ate insects and escaped from Devil's Island on a raft made of coconuts, all of which is plenty adventurous and bears a striking resemblance to much of this trip).

Following the visit to Papillion, we zipped north on 84th Street into Omaha and its rush hour traffic. Not as bad as the DC Capitol Beltway, but busy. Continued ENE past the town of Chautauqua (re: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance--though the Chautauqua movement started in NY) and east some more on I-80 to the town of Atlantic, where we made camp for the night and dined on freshly-shot steak. So they told us. During a Chautauqua.

Here's today's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=U.S.+30+%26+E+1st+St,+Ogallala,+Keith,+Nebraska+69153&daddr=210+W+6th+St,+Papillion,+Sarpy,+Nebraska+68046+to:omaha,+ne+to:atlantic,+ia&geocode=FSaIcwIdZgjw-SkjaBwHgcJ2hzGv-PC357RYgw%3BFfITdAIdSnpG-ikRuyQ84IqThzHVyaMMek1gIg%3BFXZ8dQId5ipH-int_Ay1yI2ThzEEtjeuT01CRg%3B&hl=en&mra=ls&sll=41.157978,-95.652466&sspn=0.776487,1.234589&ie=UTF8&z=7

June 21, 2010 – Ride, Ride and Ride Some More, Losing and Saving My (Boot) Sole, Why Weren’t the Beds Made?

Dawn came just about the time the sun rose, as you might expect. In an effort to mitigate the possibility of outgrowing my present clothes, breakfast consisted of two yogurts and some coffee.

Off like a shot after that, we bulleted along I-80 out of Rawlins, WY and traveled through all that Western Movie kind of terrain with mesas, gorges, sagebrush and so on. Ruggedly beautiful but very sparsely populated. A few oil rigs working and some railroad tracks, but just deer and antelope playing beyond that. And I don’t recall hearing even one discouraging word, in fact. We went through the Routt National Forest in a corner that ironically, was pretty much bereft of trees. Probably saved time when they put the Interstate through there.

Dad decided the truck needed an oil change at this point, so we stopped at a place called Grease Monkey (there was ample grease but I saw no evidence of monkey activity) in Laramie, WY. While Dad was there, I took the bike to a place to hose off that mud that was caked all over it from the road repair area we went through a few days ago, being careful to avoid washing away the spot where Father Walt blessed the bike. It looks better and suddenly, I'm getting better mileage. Funny thing out this way--mid-grade gasoline is only 87 octane and premium jumps up to 91. I've been burning the lower octane so the bike won't run as hot, but the mileage is lousy.

I swung back over to meet Dad and we dined on bologna sandwiches again. We spiced up the meal with a can of beans that we ate cold. No sense warming them up on the truck's engine block.

As I stepped away to discard the wrappings of our lunch, I nearly lost my life tripping over my right boot sole. It had been loose for a couple of days and I was going to make the Corcoran Boot people fix it, but this needed fixin' and needed it quickly. We had no buffalo hides and sinew with which to fashion some moccasins, so I drove around Laramie looking for glue. With the boot sole flapping in my relative wind. I tried near the University thinking that kids will sniff anything, but I was wrong. They're obviously beer drinkers there. So it was back a couple of miles to the local branch of a widely-known chain of stores whose name begins with a "W" and ends with “almart”. Several people were amused by my flapping boot sole as I searched for the crafts section, some of them dancing to that crazy beat. Fortunately, I found the two University kids in Laramie that DO sniff glue (they weren’t aware that the spring term had ended and everyone gone home for summer) and asked them to recommend something. After a few sniffs, I blearily reached for the nearest spray can in the Glue Section, made my purchase and went out to the parking lot to commence repairs. These consisted of wiping off the dust on the sole and spraying the glue onto the parts to be joined without overspraying onto my clothes or my stockinged foot. All I needed was to glue the boot onto my foot later. I was adjacent to the garden section of this "W" store and wedged the boot between a couple of bags of mulch to hold the sole on the boot as the glue set-up. Thirty minutes later the glue had mostly set and we were back on the road.

We continued on I-80 into Nebraska and proceeded to outrun some menacing dark clouds and lightning (I could see it in the rear-view) and finally arrive in Ogallala, NE about 7pm. We made camp in the Days Inn at Exit 316. On entering the lobby, I noted that they had received several President's Quality Awards and was feeling pretty good about my choice of lodgings. I accepted the room key from the Innkeeper and walked down the hall. I did not expect to see the beds unmade and used towels on the bathroom floor, so I returned to the front desk to report the matter. The Innkeeper was as apologetic as he was dumbfounded but quickly set me up with a better room with a view of the parking lot. Such a feature is not to be underestimated when you have your motorcycle sitting outside.

Neither Lewis nor Clark was successful in their three combined escape attempts today. They are learning to work together as a team, but I am the dominant species and have predicted their every move. They bear close monitoring. I believe they will next attempt to tunnel their way out of a ground-floor hotel room. But I will book on the second floor or higher to foil them. Daily lashings will continue until morale improves. We are aiming to make Omaha, NE tomorrow. G'night!

No photos today!

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=E+Cedar+St%2FUS-30+BUS+E&daddr=I-80+E+to:E+Grand+Ave+to:S+15th+St+to:I-80+E+to:CO-11+S+to:41.115688,-101.710322&hl=en&geocode=Fb6yfQId5AOc-Q%3BFVsNdgIdZJu1-Q%3BFYpXdgIdSgK1-Q%3BFRpUdgIdBAK1-Q%3BFWNicwIdKFrA-Q%3BFaJYcQId3l7n-Q%3B&mra=mi&mrcr=5&mrsp=6&sz=17&sll=41.114732,-101.710986&sspn=0.00426,0.009645&ie=UTF8&z=17

June 20, 2010 – The Grand Tetons Are Most Impressive, Lewis and Clark Are Shackled Together, Nothing Closes When There’s a Prison In Town

We drove through the remainder of the Grand Teton Park, with even more spectacular mountain ranges to view and several Snake River vistas. It's a different Park than Yellowstone with more opportunities to view antelope and deer than we saw in Yellowstone. Wished we had seen some more bears (my favorite animal...they can chase a beagle and not wheeze and pant) and bison, but it was not to be. As we left Grand Teton, we headed south to Jackson, WY, sort of a cowboy/mountain town. I purchased two carabiner clips to better secure Lewis and Clark to each other or to immovable objects. Dad suggested he could clip onto his belt-loops on his pants and keep his hands free while walking Lewis and Clark, but I had this mental cartoon image of the dogs running in opposite directions and pulling his pants off, so I suggested he clip the leashes around a bike rack. This worked well. The ride south of Jackson toward our eventual destination of Rawlins, WY started through some beautiful national forest land, taking us over many twists, hills and Snake and Hoback River loops. The place is positively lousy with rivers.

I saw some dark clouds ahead and stopped to put on some leathers. Good thing because it really busted loose for about 15 minutes with what I thought was hail but which was just a little semi-frozen rain drops. This cleared-up and then we came out of the hill country and saw the land begin to flatten as we neared the town of Pineland, WY. We dined here on beer, hamburgers and bratwurst at the Wind River Brewing Company. Great IPA! Lewis & Clark had behaved well and found their way back into my good graces by now and were tossed a few morsels from my hamburger. We pressed on to Rock Springs, WY along US-191 through terrain that was pretty much arrow-straight and very reminiscent of the Dakotas.

With a few hours of daylight remaining, we gassed-up and continued along I-80 East toward the pastoral village of Wamsutter, WY. This place will likely remain a pastoral village for many years because everything is closed on Sunday. We decided to do some more pressing on toward Rawlins, WY, where we hoped that it being the site of the Wyoming State Penitentiary, we'd at least find something open on a Sunday since that's Family Visitation Day at most penal institutions. Don't ask me how I know this.

There are a lot of signs along the highway with the words, “GUSTY CROSSWINDS”. I thought initially this was the name of a famed Mountain Man from the Frontier Days or perhaps a Western Movie Star, but soon realized these were advisories. Still, it makes a good Movie Star name.

Dad and I ended the day with a real Father's Day Dinner (this one was right on schedule) and then retired for the night.

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Jackson+Lake+Lodge+Road,+Moran,+WY&daddr=W+Broadway+to:US-26+W%2FUS-89+S+to:US-189+S%2FUS-191+S+to:W+Pine+St+to:Elk+St+to:41.792122,-107.216184&hl=en&geocode=FdaFnQId-MVo-Sllav8OxERSUzFjSWAL_pJ6TQ%3BFSZylwIdQuFl-Q%3BFZBqlAIdbF1l-Q%3BFYEakwIdsGhr-Q%3BFZ4XjgIdpJRz-Q%3BFYbtegId2Ed9-Q%3B&mra=mi&mrcr=5&mrsp=6&sz=15&sll=41.791889,-107.21858&sspn=0.016862,0.038581&ie=UTF8&ll=41.791057,-107.205963&spn=0.016862,0.038581&z=15

June 19, 2010 – The Beauty of Yellowstone, No Room at the Inn, Lewis Makes an Unsuccessful Dash for Freedom

We awoke to a partly cloudy sky and breakfasted on fat, carbohydrates and sugar as everyone should. Positively shuddering with anticipation, we entered Yellowstone Park at the North Entrance where I learned I have to be 62 to qualify for a Golden Age park pass. The ride through the Park was again great fun over the twisting turns and ascents/descents. The scenery is definitely a distraction! Several bison, one grizzly bear and small groups of both elk and antelope were sprinkled over the landscape as we rode along. I am sure there were birds, or possibly pterodactyls too, but we were too busy looking around to look up. Many geysers steamed, Old Faithful being the most famous and offered its blow (when a geyser spouts the hot water and steam) right on time with about two minutes duration. Very impressive and a real crowd-pleaser--there must have been a thousand or more gathered to witness the display. I talked briefly with the guy who controls the valve on the geyser that makes it spray…just kidding. There’s a valve, but nobody tends it…just kidding. Really. No, really.

We spent the next few hours viewing more scenery, handling the many autograph requests from admirers of beagles and lunched on bologna sandwiches and beer. I am happy you can enjoy a beer in a National Park (if I could only have a beer in church, ah, life would be bliss). This trip just gets better and better!

We left Yellowstone later than planned (or we just drove slower than we should have) and the skies darkened as we crossed-over into Grand Teton National Park. The road we took through GTNP offered more straightaways (fewer turns) and broader plains to each side...but at the edges of those plains loomed large, snow-capped mountains and some beautiful lakes and rivers. The skies began to drop a light rain on us and we worked for the next hour on trying to find a place to stay that would accept Lewis and Clark. Dropping their names had no effect on the clerks at the front desk of the first three stops, but at the fourth...jackpot! We landed a cozy little cabin from which Lewis promptly escaped as Dad was bringing in some stuff from his truck.

There was a time when I could run 100 yards in full football gear in about 10.5 seconds but those days are gone...Lewis would run ahead about 30 yards and look back like he was taunting me as I heaved and shuffled along...then repeat. The years have not only caught up with me but it seemed they were now leading by a considerable margin. Fortunately, a young man named Max offered to help and I was glad to gasp out a thin and wheezing "Yeeeeesssss" in response. Lewis responds far better to strangers (believing possibly that they have better food than that which I provide, but that's a beagle for you, always seeking to improve his lot) and allowed Max to approach and stand on one of Lewis' ears to keep him from running off. I thanked Max for his trouble and grabbed Lewis by his collar and hand-carried him back the quarter mile or so back to the cabin. Lewis was immediately shackled to the heaviest piece of luggage Dad brought and gave us no trouble for the remainder of the evening. I am now convinced I need to improve my physical shape as I obviously could not outrun my own A-double-S if it was on fire.

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=gardiner,+mt&daddr=Jackson+Lake+Lodge+Road,+Moran,+WY&geocode=%3BFdaFnQId-MVo-Sllav8OxERSUzFjSWAL_pJ6TQ&hl=en&mra=ls&sll=42.836415,-108.894125&sspn=3.02501,4.938354&ie=UTF8&z=9

June 18, 2010 – High Winds at Pompeys Pillar and Our Clark Makes His Own Mark

The day dawned sunny and dry, so we rode out from Billings, MT to Pompeys Pillar, MT. This is one of the few remaining places where physical evidence of the Lewis & Clark expedition remains visible. Captain Clark engraved his name and the date on the Pillar about mid-way up. The rest of the places have had Taco Bell parking lots paved over them. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Anyway, after realizing a nearby grain silo was not Pompeys Pillar, we instead directed our attention 180 degrees around to a rock tower about 130 feet high. It's managed by the National Park Service and is very tidy, the graffiti added before the start of NPS stewardship notwithstanding. The Pillar was a stopping place for Captain Clark on his split return journey to meet Captain Lewis who had followed the original course home only to be shot in the buttocks by Cruzatte, a nearsighted hunter with the expedition--how Cruzattte landed that job, I cannot possibly say. I expect all the fishing positions were filled. Captain Lewis was so badly wounded that Clark stepped-up and led the party back to St. Louis, MO along the river.

While on the Pillar, I met a marmot (aka, rock chuck) who was pleased to be sunning himself on the rock and cooperated for a snapshot. A group of kids was at the Pillar on a field trip and were pleased to meet my Lewis and Clark, who reveled in the attention. One of the kids asked why one dog put their nose down near the other dog's personal parts. I started to say that's how dogs say "hello". Fortunately, the light-bulb went on right then and I announced that Clark was checking Lewis' bullet wound to make sure it was healing. The kids were REALLY impressed with that!

Narrowly escaping with our lives from this encounter with the local natives, we hauled back to Livingston, MT and headed south on US-89. We entered Yellowstone Park and well...I am very glad people had the good sense to make this parkland and not just let capitalists slap-up fast food places and strip malls out here. There are some gorgeous vistas here and plenty of interesting turns and twists to make a motorcyclist happy. If you are with the Park Service, do not read the next two sentences. I stopped and stood about ten feet from a bison bull and took a quick photo. I was close enough to smell him--it wasn't awful, but I don't think Calvin Klein will be putting it in a bottle any time soon. I have no idea how I might have smelled to the bison. We're encamped tonight in the town of Gardiner, MT, just across the river from the Park and plan to explore it further tomorrow. Good night, all!

Here's the day's route:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=billings,+mt&daddr=pompeys+pillar+national+historic+landmark+to:W+Park+St+to:Scott+St+W+to:Grand+Loop+Rd%2FGrand+Loop+Road+Historic+District+to:US-89+S%2FGrand+Loop+Rd%2FGrand+Loop+Road+Historic+District+to:45.035307,-110.712298&hl=en&geocode=FfaYugIdLmmI-SmXnfqIiG9IUzFQtXnx1FY1Nw%3BFQ7VvQIdN_aP-SHCjzLD-es8fA%3BFY6xuAId2N5o-Q%3BFRovrwId2Klm-Q%3BFX1DrgIdZthm-Q%3BFbbVqwIdjGZm-Q%3B&mra=mi&mrcr=5&mrsp=6&sz=18&sll=45.035409,-110.711229&sspn=0.001998,0.004823&ie=UTF8&ll=45.0357,-110.711514&spn=0.003996,0.009645&z=17