The next day was a three hour drive through Banff National Park to Calgary. It was disappointing to see that the one-lane highways I was riding on through BC with the mountain walls within reaching distance had now turned to monsterous four-lane divided highways to appease the government officials concerned for the safety of all the Japanese tourists. I spent probably 20 hours in Calgary visiting fam and resting up. I had travelled about 1,300 kilometers at this point and completed a engine oil change. While in Calgary I stopped off at Blackfoot Motors - Calgary's premier motorcycle store that sells Moto Guzzi, BMW, and a host of Japanese brands, and picked up a throttle lock. The sales guy was telling me the store had sold two Stelvios last year vs. 30 R1200GSs and 60 F800GSs. I guess all-in-all that ratio of GSs/Stelvios is probably better than the overall North American ratio.
So I had travelled 1,300 kms in three days (well, about two days of actual travelling given my late Seattle departure and my short day into Calgary) and was left to travel 3,700 km in the next four days. It was time to pick up the pace, but I figured this was doable because going through Saskatchewan and North Dakota was nothing but flat, wide open highways with no reason to stop other than food and gas.
From Calgary I cut SE towards Medicine Hat. There was a brutally easterly wind that tossed me around quite a bit for about three hours, making it a real workout to ride. Fortunately at Medicine Hat my route took me East and the wind was at my back. The rain has also returned and contributed to making my life miserable. At day four of strong winds and rain I was getting pretty sick of Mother Nature. This picture was pretty typical of the day but looks no where near as ominous as it did in person. I had just stopped to fill up and was heading into rain as far as the eyes could see.

I hadn't really recognized at how bad the prairie winds were that day because the winds were at my back and my earplugs left me in a world of silence. Going past Moose Jaw I missed my turn towards Weyburn and Estevan, so I had to turn around and back track due west. WOW!!! At that point the tailwind became a headwind. WOW!!! It was brutal. All of a sudden my smooth, quiet ride became a loud, noisy ride with the bike bucking almost uncontrollably into the wind. Luckily it was only a mile or so until I was able to get back on track and head south east. At this point all the roads are two lanes, one in each direction with no median. By now it was pushing 7 pm and I was quite wiped out having fought the rain and wind all day. I targeted Weyburn or Estevan (where I lived between ages two and three) for a 9 pm stop and spend the evening, continuing on to cross the border into North Dakota in the morning. However, again without a GPS or even bothering to look at a map of this region I've never been in before, I ended up taking a wrong turn on a road. I then passed a sign that said "US Border" with an arrow pointing due south, and spontaneously decided to make a break for it. WTF was I thinking? Turns out I had no idea where I was in relation to the US - I was still above Montana and nowhere even close to Minot. I headed due south, hitting speeds up to 180 km/h (115 mph) on the flat roads. Clearly the apprehension I had in Seattle on the bike was long gone!!! Unfortunately the brief but enjoyable good weather conditions were about to come to an abrupt end and I would begin riding in the most treacherous conditions of my life!!!
Soon the wind returned, and returned with a vengeance. Because I was going due south and the wind due east, I was getting hit directly perpendicular. The wind was pretty constant, but every time it gusted, it would blow me from the right-hand side of my lane way into the opposing lane - there was nothing I could do about it. I was literally shocked at this given the Stelvio is a heavy bike and my luggage, gear, and abundant of fat added another 330 lbs to it. If it wasn't pushing 8 pm and these roads literally deserted as the farmers were all chowing down on dinner, it would have simply been a death wish to continue. There was simply no way to avoid getting blown across the road. I was already leaning significantly into the wind to stay upright, and the gusts would come out of the blue with no warning. In fact, on top of my bike lean, I further had to turn my head into the wind and downwards to avoid leaving the chin guard from my full- faced helmet hang out in the wind because it would grab it and reaf my neck around.
I maid a precautionary stop at a gas station which I thought was close to the border and added $5 worth of gas. Given the small Stelvio tank I was often riding well into the reserve and at one point had gone 60 kms on the reserve (in ideal conditions) which pretty much drained the tank. I didn't want to fill up because all they had was regular, and gas across the border was considerably cheaper. But I thought $5 was a good precaution. Note to self: Always fill the Stelvio's small tank up when you get a chance!
I continued due south, fighting the wind. The highway by now had quickly deteriorated as all the tractor-trailer activity to the border had worn deep wheel ruts into the highway. And on top of the wind, more nasty storm clouds were forming to the west. However it was clear to the south and I figure if I booted it fast enough I could probably make it across the border before the storm hit. Wrong. I really had no idea how far I was from the border, nor did I realize that the border crossing I was heading to was not the major crossing I had anticipated, but rather just a tiny garden shed leading into Montana!!!
By now the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind continued blowing me into the next lane. Normally bikers don't like to pass semis because of the nasty air foil spilling off their front ends. Ironically, I actually took great respite in passing the few semis I met on the highway because once I pulled up alongside them, it provided a break from crosswind!!! It was so relaxing. The rain was driving down at a horrendous rate and the wheel ruts in the road were like swimming pools. Although I realize motorcycle instructors advise against riding down the centre of the highway, there was no doubt that this was the safest place to ride for me because of the deepness of the wheel ruts and the fact that they were filled with water. Besides, the torrential rainfall would have washed away any oil slick on the centre of the road. It was still treacherous because the wind would continue to blow me across the ruts and into the next lane, and on top of things the sun was starting to go down. Buy now I was so physically beat and still struggling to keep the bike upright in the rain and wind that I was not even focusing on my speed. I looked down and noticed I was ripping along at 140 km/h!!!!
At this point I realized I had taken the wrong road to the US and was rushing to get the border crossing by 9 pm, fearful that smaller crossings might have limited hours. I had been driving on reserve for a good 25 miles and felt I was getting dangerously close to hitting empty. It had always bothered me that I would be crossing back in to the US with a bike recently exported using a temporary Washington state permit. Sure enough, when I got to the border, the border guards were quite suspicious about why this biker is crossing into Montana with a bike using temporary WA permits at 8:45 pm at night in a torrential rain storm. After a thorough grilling I was able to produce the stamped title to the bike and off they sent me. Before I left I asked how far it was until I got to the nearest gas station. There answer was 15 miles! Yikes!!! It might not even be open if I get there after 9!!! I again hopped on my bike and headed out at 70 mph, hoping to catch the gas station before it closed. If I ran out, I could always walk to the closest farm house as my boots, rain gear and helmet protected me from the elements extremely well (hands were cold and wet after being soaked through for a good 8 hours at this point)!
I ended up hitting a gas station set up for truckers and ended up putting in 4.5 gallons. The tank doesn't get much emptier than that. I found another dingy, small-town hotel began the daily routine of laying out my gear and buttpad to dry as I catch up on e-mail, stock quotes and news on my iTouch. I was so beat that evening that I skipped dinner and went to sleep.
Going through Montana, North Dakota, and western Minnesota was quite uneventful and boring as I was basically relegated to sticking to the the Interstates and cruising75-80 mph to make time. I did pass a small town in North Dakota that had a tank and Apache helicopter on display, so I had to stop and grab some pics. Those Apache's are just plain nasty lookin!!!

Here's a shot of the Stelvio sitting on the side of the highway as I take my war machine pictures:

I spent the night in Bemidji and met up with a guy from Kelowna riding a BMW F800GS. He had the knobbies and full nine yards of outback gear on the bike and was obviously using it as an enduro. He said he liked the bike but it was not without its faults, mainly due to a lack of strength in the components. He's bent both rims and has a two friends whom have have damaged frames - one has a bent frame and the other a broken frame. I told him that the bikes are built for the 80th percentile and that him and his friends are probably beyond that given their central BC dirt biking backgrounds.
Interestingly, Minnesota doesn't have a helmet law so many of the bikers (mainly Harley riders that I saw) whipped around without any skull cap. Before setting in for the night I took a little rip without a helmet and found it neat but noisy and unsecure. It was at this time I noticed that the vibration in my right handlebar and literally vibrated my right hand mirror to pieces as it vibrated incessantly. It wasn't noticeable with my ear plugs in before hand, but it was afterwards once I knew what to listen for.
I continued ripping through Minnesota and Wisconsin as fast as possible, stopping only for gas and food. The bike held up well under such arduous conditions. In Duluth I pulled into BP station (on reserve, as usual) to fillup. As I finished up pumping the gas this 50-something guy with a face full of stumble came out at me from the garage with an ear-to-ear grin on his face - "What do we have here?" he asks. I started with my spiel - "It's a Moto Guzzi..." when he started pointing to his chest. I think noticed that he was wearing a Moto Guzzi T-shirt! We chatted for a bit and it turns out he has been riding Guzzis for decades and has three at home. I was the first Guzzi he has seen pass through town. Turns out he is quite active on the WildGuzzi forum and goes by the handle "StEVe" (I guess the capital EV is because he owns an Evolution?). Anyways, we exchanged pleasantries and went on about our merry way.
One thing I noticed about northern Wisconsin and northern Michigan is how economically challenged the regions are. It seems like along hwy 41/28 there is literally nothing there to generate commerce other than fishing and hunting. There are a number of signs that it was a once-bustling area 30 years ago with lots of motel and cabins, but most are closed not and sit in ruins. I suspect these are from a bygone era where the family vacation consisted of packing the car and trailer and going on a camping vacation whereas now it is a matter of driving to a cottage rental in Cape Cod or parking the BMW SUV at the airport and flying somewhere. Pretty sad, but then again it appears people in this area are happy as long as they have their pickup and fishing boat. This is clearly a case where governmental aid is needed to inject new indsutry into the area.
I was making pretty good time up to now, but the driving through northern Michigan was going to be slow as the place is crawling with cops looking to nab out-of-state speeders to prop up the local economy. I was hoping to make it to Sault Ste. Marie that evening but ended up shacking up an hour short at Newberry. Outside the hotel was an Escalade pulling this trailer of six ATVs and coolers. I think it belonged to some surveyors or loggers. I'd hate to encounter this load on a tight mountain highway! I can just see the trailer hitting a speed bump in the road and the ATV on the end getting launched in the air!

By day 7 I was ready to arrive at home. The day started off with a thick pea soup fog which spoiled my morning plans. I finally got an early start and was hoping to rip 150-160 km/h to the Soo on the assumption that the cops won't have their traps out that early, but the fog put a damper into those due to the risks of wildlife crossing the road. And once I hit Canada, the speed limit dropped down to a crazy 90 km/h and I had to watch myself because the cops are plenty and the speeding tickets actually count! It was a fairly uneventful trip through northern Ontario and when I got home I was quite happy and slept well!
Some observations:
The fairing on the Stelvio offers some protection, but it isn't designed to provide the same protection as a full touring bike. However I made it 5,000 kms in seven days running bone stock so it is very usable. I've now acquired a Touratech windscreen extender on the cheap and would look at the CalSci replacement windscreen for another big trip.
The small tank is a PITA, but not a show stopper. You may have to avoid passing up gas stations like you would on other bikes, but it holds enough fuel to last a riding session before you should get off the bike to stretch the legs. As I saw it does become a hazard in areas with remote filling opportunities, but better fuel management comes into play ((when driving in remote areas, fill up whenever you get a chance!!!).
The Stelvio provides significant power and handling and is suitable for large and long tours, even two up. My equipment and I added an extra 330 lbs to the bike and it could still haul ass to pass on single-lane highways.
The bike worked pretty good. During the first three days I had a significant number of dashboard problems where dash display would crap out, but it has not happened since. I thought maybe it was related to the rain/humidity, but I went through hellish rain after that and it never crapped out.
The Givi E360 panniers are amazing. Spacious and not a drop of rain entered the bags despite all the crap I went through. I'm giving the bags an unqualified five star rating.
Cory