On Fisher's advice I set up camp in Fort Benton, a National Historic Landmark and time capsule of a village nestled on the banks of the upper Missouri River in north central Montana. There I met Mike Arnst, owner-operator of EagleRider Central Montana, to pick up my bike-an immaculately serviced Electra Glide Classic-and check out the rest of his franchise. The spacious, orderly dealership held a complement of nicely appointed Harleys, ATVs and dirtbikes, all available for rent. Having secured my ride, I headed to dinner at the Grand Union Hotel in the center of town.
Built in 1882 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the Grand Union is right in the middle of Fort Benton's Historic District. It's an ideal base for riders exploring the area, which is why I booked a room for the night. The restored structure on the banks of the Missouri River is the oldest operating hotel in Montana and sports that classic combination of good eats, comfortable beds and a killer view.
An after-dinner stroll along the old river levee revealed 11 saloons lined up on the main drag of this tiny outpost. I shuffled across the street to one of them-the aptly named Pastime Bar-to do some, uh, research. Lucky for me, the bartender proved to be a veritable Norm Peterson, dispensing both information and tequila with a heavy hand. In the course of the evening I learned that no other town played such a prominent role in the opening of the northwestern United States. Established in 1846, Fort Benton became an important supply depot for the North West Mounted Police charged with bringing peace to the western provinces. Lewis and Clark spent a good chunk of time in the area, too, and the scenic Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument was right around the bend. The town was a perfect road-trip destination-easily navigable, low-key and full of history. It would be hard to leave.
Royal Roadway
But I was here to survey the land, so I armed myself with maps (courtesy of Travel Montana) and pointed the Electra Glide down Route 87, across the Missouri River and onto I-15 South to Helena. I slanted southeast on Route 12, planning to loop around to the Kings Hill Scenic Byway portion of U.S. 89 heading back north.
Dozens of gravel paths crisscrossed the highway en route, and I had no doubt they led to even more spectacular scenery. At the Byway's north end, I stopped at Sluice Boxes State Park to check out the remains of the Montana Central Railroad and take in views of towering cliffs rearing up from Belt Creek. By the time I hit Great Falls and the Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail Interpretive Center, I was well schooled in the byways of the west.
After grabbing some Zs in the sleepy, western-style town of White Sulphur Springs, I opted for a more leisurely pace the next day, so I picked up the Byway at its southern junction with U.S. 12. The 71-mile rumble north up Highway 89 was the way to savor the lush foliage and Ponderosa pine-scented air infiltrating the Lewis and Clark National Forest and Little Belt Mountains. The sight of the rugged limestone outcrops was invigorating, and Little Belt Creek, swollen from snowmelt, shadowed the roadway. The Kings Hill Pass at 7393 feet proved a bit nippy, but then the Electra Glide did its bit to keep me sheltered. I was guessing this was Russell Country at its finest.
Then There's the Culture...
I felt obligated to put my routes into historical context, and the Lewis and Clark Center was a fascinating way to get a visual slice of local history. But I was also itching to get back into the Great Wide Open.
And sure enough, it was way beyond the city limits that things got more interesting. I'd chosen to zigzag back onto Highway 89 north for a ride through acres of wheatgrass highlands, with no other life-forms around as far as the eye could see. The road was long and wide and the grins came often. The bike settled into a relaxing lope, and my mind was in a beautiful place.