The Dream Roll - Not For the Faint of Heart


by @jessicahaggett

Sitting here on my warm patio, drinking a cup of coffee with my pup, having now fully recovered from my trip to Washington, i’m almost laughing to myself as I think about the name "Dream Roll". For those of you who don't know, “The Dream Roll” is an all-women motorcycle campout at Mt. Adams, Washington. Reminiscing on the extreme highs and lows of my trip, I realize it takes a certain kind of gal to think of a trip like that as a "dream", but wildly enough, I realize I do. I think it's the same kind of gal who would decide to buy a motorcycle in the first place who would think of that weekend as a dream, and let me tell you, this life is not for the faint of heart.

There we were, 7am Wednesday morning, gassed up, packed up, and ready to roll. We had planned to take our time getting there as we knew the scenic routes would be much more enjoyable than the main Interstate RoadI-15. We set off with perfect temps, and the four of us were making pretty good time. We enjoyed a road twisting along the Salmon river in Idaho for a few hours, stopped for lunch, and kept riding. By the time we got to Challis, Idaho, we only had 100 miles left before we planned to camp in the forest near Gibbonsville, ID. We were gassed up, ready to head out, and started our bikes…all except Erika. Her bike just made a loud clicking noise. Ahhh…that familiar sound of a dead battery. We tested the battery, and turns out it's bad, so Amy takes Erika to NAPA on the back of her bike, we replace her battery, and are off. It seemed simple enough. 

The next morning, we wake up excited to get on the road again. We had planned to do highway 12, "99 miles of turns", from Lolo, Montana, to Lewiston, Idaho. This road was easily the prettiest road i've ever ridden. The thick forest and tree lined roads were never ending. If you've never done this stretch of highway, add it to your bucket list. After stopping for lunch, it was 3:00pm and we only had 150 miles left to our next destination. We were going to take a couple hours, take a dip in the river and get back on the road to make it to Walla Walla, Washington by nightfall. Once again, we start up our bikes…all except Erika. Again, we hear that same clicking sound as she attempts her start.  

This time we feel a little more nervous. We're 60 miles from anything, in the middle of nowhere (literally the population was 23 people) with no cell service. By now I’ve run into my share of bike problems, so I know the easiest hail mary to push start her bike. Sweaty and exhausted the three girls push me on Erika's bike. I pop the clutch in 2nd gear and voila! It starts! We hustle to the next city because we're losing daylight and at this point we know we have bigger problems than a bad battery.

After trouble shooting, we conclude Erika has a bad connection so her battery isn't charging as she rides. We re-charge her battery and get on the road again. 100 miles later we're in Lewiston, Idaho. We gas up, start our bikes…all except Erika. At this point we thought we were in the clear mind you. Her bike doesn't even do her the courtesy of clicking this time around. Her battery is 100% drained. It's getting dark and we're pretty much “over it” at this point. There's a Harley-Davidson dealership in Lewiston so we decide to get a hotel. We wake up and head over there when they open at 10am. They get us in right away and tell us it's her regulator (charging system). However, they don't have the part so the only option is to over-night it. But we have places to be and beers to drink! After calling every shop within 200 miles, we find the part, charge her battery hoping it will get us there, and race to the shop on borrowed time.

After 200 miles of 103 degree weather, a possible heat stroke situation, and 6 bags of ice (yes we strapped bags of ice to our handlebars), we arrive to the Harley dealership in Yakima, Washington. With 15 minutes to spare before they close.  We get the part, switch it out and are finally on to our destination.  

Sweaty and delirious we arrive at The Dream Roll at 9:30pm. We decide to slam a couple Coors before setting up camp. I mean, we deserve it right!? Finally, we can move enough to set up camp and of course it starts pouring rain, just like you'd expect in the PNW and our stuff is getting soaked. By that point I don't even care, I set up camp, get in my warm sleeping bag and call it a day.

I'm going to spare you the other gory details of the following three days, but they include a lost key, learning how to hot wire a motorcycle, blown fuses, dropped bikes (effing gravel), and of course more freezing cold rain (on the road this time). 

We had the time of our lives and I can guarantee none of us will EVER forget that trip. With so many incredible highs and lows it pushed us to our limits. It showed us what we were capable of and we are all stronger for it. You might even say we are addicted to it. So, now you can see why I say it takes a certain kind of gal to consider this a “dream”, and i’m sure you can relate, we are all those kind of “gals”. Still laughing to myself about the endless memories created with these badass, resilient women, can't wait for The Dream Roll next year.