October 2013 Wild West Ride
Introduction
That’s right my friend; I’ve got stuff to outline before this ride report starts… so you sir, get a introduction. You also get 3 chapters; not just a jumbled mess of story bits and pictures, but 3 official chapters… full of jumbled messes of story bits and pictures. So settle in… make sure your boss isn’t standing behind you and HR isn’t monitoring your computer activity, and let’s do this!
The How: I’m going to give this ride report a try using extensive hyperlinks; sort of in a new age digital writing style similar to Wikipedia. It will give you (the reader!) the option to read through it quickly, or take your time, click on the links, and maybe learn something. You're welcome.
The Who: Paul was headed to Albuquerque for a conference, and graciously offered to throw my dad’s trailer on the back of his van, and haul him and his nearly new Harley Davidson Street Glide out there for a week of western riding. The offer was then extended to me and my KTM Adventure as well, and the plan set in motion.
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This should clear things up for you: |
Paul
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Dad
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Me
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The Where: We had two weeks, but we were planning to take our sweet time getting out there and back, so we figured one week of travel time, and one week of motorcycle time. The travel plans were easy; head south to Memphis, and then west across 40 to Albuquerque. To come home, we were going to meet up in Denver, and head east from there, preferably on smaller roads than the interstate. The hard part proved to be the motorcycle week. But why (you say to yourself, with the sort of genuine concern and sympathy I’m imagining while writing this), when I’ve got this grand plan of how I would love to spend some time out west already formed in my Mountain Ride plan?! The first worry was, mid-October is a very risky time of year to head into mountains on a motorcycle. Not risky like… WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE stranded on Mount Everest risky… more, risky like… aww, this road we want to ride is closed because of snow. Eh, we can manage that, NEXT ISSUE... Less than a week before our departure date, everyone’s favorite Congress decided there were still a few people around thinking they were actually accomplishing something, so they decided it would be best to shut the government down for awhile. In any case, the National Parks, of which I reference 11 in my Mountain Ride plan, were closed. We were entertaining two very different ideas for the week we had to ride. And we left for Albuquerque without knowing which direction we were heading.
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Ride through Arizona, Utah, and Colorado, around the closed parks.
How bad could it possibly be not seeing in the parks, when you can still motorcycle through the areas? Not bad at all of course, but I was hesitant; my dad has already motorcycled this area, and I’m going to want to come back when the parks are open, so is it worth our time to spend a valuable week out west this way?
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Ride South into Mexico, and through the Copper Canyon area for a couple days.
Mexico is an easy day ride from Albuquerque. With the Copper Canyon area being only one more easy day. Mexico is probably a top 3 contender in the running for my next big ride; with the Baja Peninsula hanging off the side, the mountains and canyons in the center, and the ruins to the south, I can’t wait for the culture shockingly great experience that would be traveling down there. Those of you whose impressions of Mexico are solely based upon our media’s interpretation won’t understand, but anyone who reads travel blogs or ride reports with any frequency knows better. “The nicest people you’ll ever meet,” or a phrase similar, can be found in almost every tale.
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Chapter 1
Three Manly Men Go West In A Minivan
The night before go time I’m sleeping on my dad’s couch, because the only thing worse than leaving at 5 in the morning, would be leaving at 4:30 in the morning to meet these guys, to leave at 5 in the morning. 5 in the morning… we have plenty of time, nowhere to be for days… and we’re leaving at 5 in the morning. That… is precisely how hardcore we are.
He backs the van up to the garage, we toss the pre-loaded trailer on, and off we go!
The sun rises somewhere around Cincinnati, and we get through the town without any morning rush hour delay. Louisville; uneventful. All concerns about trailer weighting (we’ve had some issues in the past) were happily erased, and we could cruise at whatever speed Paul wanted, even if it was occasionally faster than we thought necessary. A two-lane shortcut took us north of Nashville. And by mid afternoon we made it somewhere: Memphis!
Memphis was a potential stop as of, roughly, a week prior to departure. Paul’s cousin happened to be flying into Memphis to partake in the Metal Museum’s famous Repair Days event. We hoped to see some of the event and meet his cousin. Perhaps eat there; perhaps stay the night, all unknowns. Coming into town we see the Great Pyramid Arena, and notice the plywood on the doors and windows; a great (condemned)Pyramid… we all got a good laugh. Turns out they’re renovating it to be a new Bass Pro Shop Megastore. Greatest Bass Pro Shop ever.
The Repair Days event at the Metal Museum was unfortunately only in the setup stages. We strolled through the campus and stared at the great Mississippi river a bit, before heading out for the evening on the town with Paul’s cousin.
Memphis turned out to be the first of many interesting cities. You probably know that Memphis is home to Graceland, not really our thing (in fact, we didn't even drive by)… but it’s also home to Beale Street, a lesser known party street akin to Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
I could easily spend a weekend here; endless live music, good food, and great drinks.
Picture Credited To http://goo.gl/NzW3vC
Naturally we didn’t forget Memphis is also known for its BBQ. We made our way down the stairs into the basement of an old building in some random alley, where we met our server Kevin in Charles Vergo’s Rendezvous Restaurant. Probably my personal favorite food experience of the whole trip, and that’s saying a lot because, while we generally only ate out once a day, we made that one big meal count. Kevin, who looks very similar to Shaq, made the meal even better. We ordered a pitcher of local beer and cracked open the menus, chock full of amazing sounding things. Kevin came up, saw us looking like deer in headlights, and enthusiastically told us flat out, you want the ribs and brisket combo. All four of us ordered the ribs and brisket combo. All four of us loved our ribs and brisket combos. He came up to us with another pitcher of beer, didn’t say a word, but his enthusiasm shown through his eyes, as he could tell we all approved of our refills. Hard to put this experience into words, but it was a killer meal, and I highly recommend going, asking for Kevin, and ordering the ribs and brisket combo.
We decided to drop off Paul's cousin and hit the road for a couple more hours before stopping for the night in Little Rock, AK (named after the pile of rocks on the banks of the Arkansas River).
8am brought free biscuits and gravy (for me at least, while Paul enjoyed an all oatmeal for breakfast diet the entire trip, not sure how he could keep turning down the endless hotel waffles). We had the time, so we went looking for detours and attractions along our route today. We didn’t come up with much. We’re driving near the Ozarks… but would it be worth the side trip through the Ozarks, in a minivan pulling the bikes? We decided against it. We looked at the state parks, but they seem rather… uninteresting. We went to a scenic overlook, that was unfortunately on the wrong side of the road from the scenery… so it was basically an overlook over the highway. I don’t even think we stopped… it was a pull in, start laughing while making a U-turn, and pull out, sort of deal. The hills in this area reminded me of upstate New York; rolling and green. Not nearly the size of the Smokey's, but vast.
8am brought free biscuits and gravy (for me at least, while Paul enjoyed an all oatmeal for breakfast diet the entire trip, not sure how he could keep turning down the endless hotel waffles). We had the time, so we went looking for detours and attractions along our route today. We didn’t come up with much. We’re driving near the Ozarks… but would it be worth the side trip through the Ozarks, in a minivan pulling the bikes? We decided against it. We looked at the state parks, but they seem rather… uninteresting. We went to a scenic overlook, that was unfortunately on the wrong side of the road from the scenery… so it was basically an overlook over the highway. I don’t even think we stopped… it was a pull in, start laughing while making a U-turn, and pull out, sort of deal. The hills in this area reminded me of upstate New York; rolling and green. Not nearly the size of the Smokey's, but vast.
We were passing quite a few bikes in this area, including our first Adventure Duo on I-40 in Oklahoma; an Orange KTM 990 with a white 800 (either Triumph or BMW) I’d guess. Shortly thereafter, a Blue Super Tenere decked out, and with substantial driving lights. All the other riders seemed to look at us, while I pretended they were checking out our bikes (our oddly paired together bikes; one of which should appeal to anyone) thinking how cool they are, they were probably poking fun at us trailering… like I would be doing if the tables were turned.
This stretch of I-40 had an incredible amount of Semi’s. Like… never ending, solid stream, of one after another semi-trucks; substantially more than we get up on I-70 (or I-71). We passed some pretty cool placards too; Poison, Corrosive, Hazardous, and my personal favorite, Radioactive!
This stretch of I-40 had an incredible amount of Semi’s. Like… never ending, solid stream, of one after another semi-trucks; substantially more than we get up on I-70 (or I-71). We passed some pretty cool placards too; Poison, Corrosive, Hazardous, and my personal favorite, Radioactive!
Picture Credited To http://goo.gl/Q9Twx9
We crossed the Arkansas River in Webber Falls, OK, where about 11 years ago they had a bridge disaster killing 14 people. It’s what happened after that though that’s peculiar. A twice convicted felon showed up impersonating an Army Capitan, and took control of the entire rescue efforts… FOR TWO DAYS… before vanishing.
Who does that???
We stopped at most historic markers along our travels. Most, like this one, were not quite as super-exciting as we hoped. Let me sum it up for you: This was a school! But now it's closed.
Soon though, we found what was sure to be a super-exciting stop! The Devil's Rope Museum in, Mclean, right off old Route 66!
Unfortunately, it was closed.
Right up the street was the first ever Phillips 66 Station in Texas. Excitement factor: somewhere between 'closed school' and 'Lots Of Barbed Wire'.
Excitement truly came when we found an abandoned and eroding service station from back in Route 66's hay-day. You may or may not find this sort of thing interesting like we all did, but that's OK, I don't really care.
Moving on… our destination for the evening turned out to be Amarillo, TX. Endless homemade billboards along the route pointed us towards The Big Texan for dinner; famous for their Historic Route 66 heritage, and free 72 ounce steak. The hotel lady gave it the nod as well, so after a quick drive through downtown (just to see what was there; not much!) and a couple wrong turns, we were there!
This place was great… but not in a ‘Memphis OMG this place is sooo good’ sort of way… more of a, Wall Drug, South Dakota, oddly touristy, giant, Texas sort of way. Had an 18 ounce Ribeye, giant baked potato, salad, and in-house-brewed Whiskey Barrel Stout. It was all very good.
Went back to the hotel and visited the adjoining bar. This place was HOPPING! It was like a busy college bar, without the higher education; lots of youngins, being loud, and drinking terrible drinks. But that made it sound bad… it was great! Very entertaining! I have never seen drinks as bad as they were ordering… I wish I wrote some of them down… picture… 151, with… I don’t know… Baileys… and… I guess throw some of that blue liquor in there…. Shake, and pour into a half a dozen shot glasses. They’d shoot them, laugh about how bad it was, and order the next round of completely different, but equally terrible sounding shots. While it was entertaining… we didn’t last long. I'm a bit dissapointed I don't have a picture to go here, equally disappointed there are no pictures of the place online from anyone else. Hell, the bar even has a facebook page... without a single picture. Just use your imagination... Yeah... That's close enough.
Up in the morning… WAFFLES! Not just any waffles either… TEXAS SHAPED WAFFLES!!! Funny thing about Texas shaped waffles… if you don’t know they're Texas shaped ahead of time… they just look like this ridiculous blob of a waffle. I laughed at some stranger as they walked by me with a blob waffle… thinking… look at that foo’s failed attempt at a waffle! I’ll show them! Then I opened the waffle iron… and it was a freaking blob shape waffle iron. It wasn’t till I sat down I figured out what the heck it was supposed to look like.
It was in the thirties this morning and windy… and we had an early stop to make. Cadillac Ranch, of Route 66 fame… has been relocated to just west of Amarillo. We laughed at the thought of these cars sticking out of the ground… and the idea that it’s not even in its original location any more… but what are you going to do? Not go? Crazy talk.
The sea of empty spray cans was nearly as impressive as the cars, and some careful searching turned up a half full can of purple. I sprayed an obligatory ADV as well as a MIKEF5000, before passing the can on.
Good times… moving on…
We spotted this… oddity up ahead. It was the kind of thing where, no one knows what it is, but everyone just keeps guessing as the miles tick by and you get closer and closer… eventually we realize, it’s a monster cattle yard, thousand of cows in this fenced in lot, visible from literally miles away. Cool! (or, um, not cool, depending on your beliefs).
Along this stretch, much of I-40 was laid over the old route 66. This makes it impossible to go drive ‘the mother road’, because it’s constantly starting, dead ending, and restarting. We did our best to get off the interstate every chance we got. At one point we hit a dirt road headed straight towards a field of those huge white wind turbines. We guessed how far they were (1-2 miles) and drove to see them up close. At, I think, the 5 mile mark, we hit a gate that said Private Property - No Trespassing, and were forced to turn around. Unfortunately, we were still probably 1-2 miles from them.
Soon we came to the town of Adrian, TX, the official half way point of Route 66. We arrived shortly after a group of Harleys pulled up. They were here from overseas... and they were freezing their tails off.
The Coyotes Malaga appeared to be from Spain, riding rented Harleys. They were pretty well decked out in the appropriate Harley outfits, and were happily buying up Route 66 memorabilia.
I took a particular liking to Adrian simply because, ten steps out of 'town', and you were in the middle of vast expanses of nothingness. It seemed you could see the curvature of the Earth on the horizon. Even more impressive, the constant wind was blowing the right direction that, even though the Interstate was easily visible meandering off into oblivion, you couldn't, ever, hear it. It was silent and endless... Everything, was silent, and endless, here.
Found this cool car in the middle of nowhere; it was worth the stop for a couple fancy pictures.
Continuing on the small roads paralleling the Interstate, our next interesting stop became blatantly obvious not long after Adrain (I say that as if I have any clue how long after Adrian we found this thing. I don't have a clue, but I know it comes next in my list of pictures!). A massive tunnel burrowed beneath the interstate, in the middle of nowhere. We’re assuming it’s a railroad right of way that has yet to ever been built in. It had odd birds living in mud houses stuck to the ceiling. It would be the absolute perfect stealth camping spot if riding across the country.
Then we came to a serious highlight of our drive out; the ghost town of Cuervo, New Mexico. Remember that abandoned service station, and how I had 7 pictures of just that one building? Well this is a whole ghost town… We took lots of pictures. The church appears to still be in use (by the non-ghost town across the interstate), but everything else was eroding. One house is made from two railroad cars, several others were adobe... and someone left their 1964 Datsun 1300 truck behind.
Look, A Blue Hole!!! That's right, in Santa Rosa, NM, in the middle of a fairly dry desert region, you'll find several odd 'lakes'. These lakes are actually sink holes in the limestone bedrock, many of which are connected via, sometimes massive, underground, under water, caves. How freaking cool is that? The Blue Hole is the most famous... uhm... Lake? Deep Pond? Wet Spot? What would you call this thing? it's a cylinder, 80 foot across, and 80 foot deep (or 60 foot across and 81 foot deep, depending on who you believe). Hugely popular with Scuba Divers.
Only, it's not really just 80 foot deep like they want you to believe, it's at 80 foot that it turns into a cave, rather than a lake, and since 1976, there has been a gate blocking the cave entrance. I found this article explaining how, just a month before we got there, a team opened the gate for the first time since 1976 to go in and map it. The article is pretty vague, but it does mention that it goes to a depth of at least 225 feet! Unfortunately, further research found this article, explaining how the cave dive attempts failed due to "the large amount of rubble piled up at the cave's entrance." Someone want to explain to me why/how there is a large amount of rubber at the bottom of the Blue Hole? Sounds like a shady excuse to me... probably some sort of conspiracy. I'm going to go ahead and assume the Blue Hole is connected to the eastern half of the Pacific Ocean that sits beneath California and Nevada (and Arizona and New Mexico), and the divers most likely found some sort of secret military complex down there.
Only, it's not really just 80 foot deep like they want you to believe, it's at 80 foot that it turns into a cave, rather than a lake, and since 1976, there has been a gate blocking the cave entrance. I found this article explaining how, just a month before we got there, a team opened the gate for the first time since 1976 to go in and map it. The article is pretty vague, but it does mention that it goes to a depth of at least 225 feet! Unfortunately, further research found this article, explaining how the cave dive attempts failed due to "the large amount of rubble piled up at the cave's entrance." Someone want to explain to me why/how there is a large amount of rubber at the bottom of the Blue Hole? Sounds like a shady excuse to me... probably some sort of conspiracy. I'm going to go ahead and assume the Blue Hole is connected to the eastern half of the Pacific Ocean that sits beneath California and Nevada (and Arizona and New Mexico), and the divers most likely found some sort of secret military complex down there.
Back on the highway... the other side of the highway dropped to a lower elevation than our side, and it appeared that a pickup lost control from our side, and launched off over the median, landing upside down on the other side. It was brutal looking, and the traffic was stopped for miles. Remember when I mentioned just how many semi's were on I-40? Check it out.
Another random stop. There was supposed to be a ghost town here, not sure if I found it online or if there was a sign, but there were just a couple buildings, and they were behind ranchers fences. Found a survey marker though.
We made it to Albuquerque!
Remember Paul's cousin we met in Memphis? Well he lives here, and their home is our stop for the night. We made it to his house, met up with his wife, and off-loaded the bikes. We took her to dinner at Sharkie's, a little outdoor diner type of place.
Next we headed to a coffee shop where we sat out by a fire and enjoyed our beverages. Lucky for me (in keeping my local beer trend going) they offered a couple local brews in addition to coffees. I was the odd man out for sure, but it was worth it.
By complete chance, we landed in Albuquerque in time for their internationally famous Balloon Fiesta! We managed to get up at the crack of dawn, and took up a spot not far from where the balloons where taking off (and immediately next to where many were landing). We took lots of pictures.
Interestingly, there were in the neighborhood of 550 balloons this year, compared to the peak in 2000, when over 1000 balloons were present!
We watched the Mass Ascension Sunday morning, where too little wind caused some navigation issues, but no serious problems. It looks like a few days later they did have a balloon strike a power line.
We stopped for a large breakfast before heading back to the house and preparing to the riding half of this trip. Excitement flared as we packed up the bikes and got suited up. It was go time! Time to head out into the awesome West on the motorcycles! Time to start Chapter Two!
Then the bike wouldn't start.
Chapter 2
Motorcycling is the only way to go! (Except all those other ways I guess)
Apparently I'm not the only one...
(No, I didn't create that meme... it was already in the world of the internet... Bummer)
So this little annoyance has happened a few times, including when I picked up my new-to-me KTM. It wouldn't start in the dealership when I came to pick it up, even though they had run it around the block less than an hour prior. They did me right and threw a new battery in it, which solved the issue at that time (April). Sometime mid summer it did it again. I actually started the thing, rode for 5 minutes, stalled it, and it wouldn't start again. It acted like the battery just didn't have enough juice to turn it over all the way. Just touching jumper cables to it was all it took to fire right up, and I purposely shut it off 5 seconds later, just to see what would happen, and it started right up on its own after that, like nothing was wrong. It worked fine for several more months, till now... standing in Albuquerque.
Not wanting to take the skid plate off, I tried a couple shortcuts: Push starting it didn't work, but did get everyone nice and sweaty. I even tried plugging battery tender leads together with my dads bike. I figured, if it's right on the edge of starting, it just might work... but it didn't. So I dropped the skid plate, and we jumped it with the van. It worked just fine, and she fired up like a beast. Now sweaty, frustrated, and worried about the rest of the trip, we re-suit up... and HIT THE ROAD!
So this little annoyance has happened a few times, including when I picked up my new-to-me KTM. It wouldn't start in the dealership when I came to pick it up, even though they had run it around the block less than an hour prior. They did me right and threw a new battery in it, which solved the issue at that time (April). Sometime mid summer it did it again. I actually started the thing, rode for 5 minutes, stalled it, and it wouldn't start again. It acted like the battery just didn't have enough juice to turn it over all the way. Just touching jumper cables to it was all it took to fire right up, and I purposely shut it off 5 seconds later, just to see what would happen, and it started right up on its own after that, like nothing was wrong. It worked fine for several more months, till now... standing in Albuquerque.
Not wanting to take the skid plate off, I tried a couple shortcuts: Push starting it didn't work, but did get everyone nice and sweaty. I even tried plugging battery tender leads together with my dads bike. I figured, if it's right on the edge of starting, it just might work... but it didn't. So I dropped the skid plate, and we jumped it with the van. It worked just fine, and she fired up like a beast. Now sweaty, frustrated, and worried about the rest of the trip, we re-suit up... and HIT THE ROAD!
As with the last couple times this happened, the bike ran perfectly fine after, and eventually we left the issue behind us and began enjoying the ride. The weather was perfect, but we were stuck on I-40. Occasionally an old Route 66 bridge would be visible off in the fields beside the freeway, but there were no side roads. We tried one exit just to get off the highway, but the road quickly veered off in the wrong direction and turned to sand. We held tough, and I tried some sand riding techniques I've read about since it was flat and straight, but eventually it spit us back onto the freeway. We came up to an overlook with an adobe village on a hill side. There were tons (TONS) of pee bottles, and even baggies of pee; apparently this overlook is a popular target for passing traffic. We didn't stick around too long.
We crossed the continental divide for the first time while heading west. The terrain wasn't anything special here, but there was some interesting stuff happening in the distance, and we were up over 7000 feet.
We then came to Meteor Crater, which was one of the few non-national-park destinations I had heard about, and hoped to see. It's one of those things that you should go see if you're in the area... but you probably only need to go once. It's pretty interesting, and we spent an hour walking around. It was a bit pricey... but it was also open... so it's hard to complain.
We found a black Super Tenere here, and spoke with the rider for a bit. The bike was pretty well decked out, and apparently he was headed away from the Grand Canyon area.
Mister Super Tenere told us some horror stories about his experience at the Grand Canyon. Apparently, not only are the visitors center and overlooks closed, but the road (Arizona State Route 64), a through road that we were planning on riding the next day, was also closed. And not only that, but he rode the open stretch of the road, to go take a picture at the barrier, and a NPS Ranger pulled out behind him and followed him, presumably to make sure he didn't pass the barricade, and wouldn't allow him to take a picture of his bike at the CLOSED sign.
We had roughly an hour ride to Williams, AZ (home of the Grand Canyon Railway) ,our destination for the night. During which both my dad and I, unbeknown to each other, brewed, and built a massive amount of rage up in our minds towards the situation. Sure it's our failing congress that brought the situation upon us all, but if the park rangers are doing any more then the bare minimum required of them in this time of closure, then I see them as part of the problem here as well. Closing a through road because you can see the Grand Canyon from it? Really? Following people, not allowing pictures, and making arrests when someone crosses the barricade... despicable.
That hour ride towards Williams had road signs towards Los Angelos, and the Pacific Coast Highway was sounding more and more tempting. We made it to Williams, signed in to the famous 9 Arizona Motor Hotel on Route 66, quickly discovered we were both equally pissed off, and went to find alcohol (I mean dinner).
Alcohol (I mean dinner) came at Cruiser's Cafe 66 Bar and Grill. A cool old spot with outdoor seating, propane heaters, and guy playing guitar (really well). Local beer this evening came from the Grand Canyon Brewing Co.
The food was good, and we settled down a bit. The Pacific Coast Highway is definitely on our list of things to do, but, with a meeting point near Denver in 1 week, it wouldn't be ideal for this trip. We also revisited the thought of going south into Mexico. Which I am excited to do in the future, but we both decided it would need a bit more planning before venturing off into the unknown. We landed, once again, at the thought of riding through Arizona, Utah, and Colorado, around the National Parks.
While eating breakfast in the morning, still not sure what to do with the day since we can't get near the Grand Canyon, George (of Alaska Ride fame) came to the rescue with a random, but perfect, suggestion of hitting Oak Creek Canyon. A quick look at a map showed a potentially perfect loop, south from Williams through the Kaibab National Forest, then northeast through Sedona, and all the way up to Page, AZ, our potential stop for the night.
The road out of Williams was a 2 lane beautifully paved and empty stretch. The map showed about 30 miles paved, and 30 miles unpaved. It was a big enough road to be on the map, so it... umm... should be Harley-able.
As the road turned to dirt, it appeared hard packed and well groomed. We ventured on. Soon, we passed a sign informing us that Water Crossings could be dangerous during inclement weather. I laughed as I watched my dad stare at the sign. We ventured on. I love water crossings. If we came to one that he wasn't willing to attempt (on is brand new and costly Harley), we'd turn around... remember, we didn't really have anywhere to be. The road crossed several different terrains, but my favorite was when it was carved in the side of a hill/canyon. The road would change colors with the different layers of rock, as it ascended or descended the mountains. One low laying stretch became somewhat sandy, but quickly turned back to hard packed dirt.
At one point we came upon a lady riding up a steeper section on a single speed mountain bike. We were floored, and applauded as she passed us again when we were stopped. Eventually we found a man on a bicycle as well. Very impressive; these roads were not technical, but they were never flat.
At one point we came upon a lady riding up a steeper section on a single speed mountain bike. We were floored, and applauded as she passed us again when we were stopped. Eventually we found a man on a bicycle as well. Very impressive; these roads were not technical, but they were never flat.
At one stop (for a couple pictures) we found this freaking cow. Just one, lonely, random, cow. When I say, we found this cow... I should say, this freaking cow found us.
We were here for several minutes... walking around... taking pictures... long before we ever saw it... but according to my pictures, obviously he saw us. We laughed about this cow for a long, long time.
Here's a fancy picture I took... Do you see him? Because he sees you!
How about if I crop the picture down a bit...
Anywho... in coming off of this 30 miles of deserted dirt road (following 30 miles of deserted paved road) we came across this ancient looking mining operation, and then around one more corner... and TAA DAA! We were in Jerome, AZ, a huge fancy tourist spot! Tons of people walking around... traffic... shops... Apparently there is a normal way into this town.... and then there is our way into this town. We were both flabbergasted, to go from nothing, to everything, literally by going around a corner.
All that being said, it was the perfect break after an hour or so on a dirt road. We parked the bikes and walked up and down main street.
We hit US-89A north through Sedona, and up through the canyon towards flagstaff. We cut off the main road a couple times, once to ride through Red Rock State Park, and another time to view a huge overlook. It was a great ride. It all was great.
Heading further north, we stopped for gas at a fairly rough looking station, and found this sign... Interesting.
We landed in Page Arizona for the evening, which worked out well. It was a bit early to head to dinner, so we went to the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area Overlook.
The timing was right, so we stuck around for sunset at the overlook.
Not sure why this picture is blurry. If you click on it it clears up.
The next morning we went on a tour of Antelope Slot Canyon in Navajo Nation. You may not have heard of Antelope Canyon, but you've surely seen it. Pictures can be found in calendars, computer desktops, generic backgrounds, all over. We rode out on the back of this pickup truck, then proceeded on an hour long tour. I (we) are more of the adventurous types, and would have much preferred being able to roam and explore on our own... but this is in Native American land, and that's simply not permitted (nor possible at this location). This stop was pretty darn cool, but you must go with the mindset of "I'm going to go take some great pictures," because that is what the tour is all about. It was a parade of groups of people, and just one after another photo opportunities. We would walk ten feet, stop, our guide would explain how to take a cool picture here, and then walk another 10 feet and repeat. Just constant stopping to take pictures. So, I guess, without further ado, the pictures:
From Page, we more or less did a loop around the Grand Starecase Escalante National Monument. We cut west across the Vermilion Cliffs area (home of The Wave, you've seen the pictures), then looped around and headed back east on State Highway 12, an absolutely fantastic road that basically goes from Bryce Canyon National Park to Capitol Reef National Park. We stopped for the night in Torrey UT, just outside Capitol Reef.
This day's ride was nothing short of spectacular.
Next we traveled from Torrey, AZ to Cortez, Colorado. We first cut east across Capitol Reef National Park, where we stopped and saw some ~1000 year old petroglyphs; how cool is that? We proceeded southeast and crossed the Colorado River at the opposite tip of the Glen Canyon area from which we started the day before. Following the river the other way leads right into Canyonland National Park, where I would have loved to have spent a day (if timing, weather, and congress permitted) riding the White Rim Trail loop. It didn't work out for this trip... but there will be future trips. We crossed the Colorado boarder (first time either of us have ridden in Colorado) and visited a closed (unrelated to congress, it closed at 5pm, we arrived at 5:02) Four Corners Monument. I know of the reputation ($$$) of the real monument, so we were both quite happy with our version. Colorado marks the, I believe, 31st state I've motorcycled in. Cool!
This was another exceptional day of riding.
This was another exceptional day of riding.
Colo-Freaking-Rado! How cool is this?! We're riding in Colorado! Not entirely sure why it's taken me so long to get here, but we're here now! Unfortunately rain is set to move in overnight, and the next day very likely will be a wash out. No big deal, we've still got some time, and we'll make due. About a mile up the road from our hotel was the Main Street Brewery (and restaurant), the obvious choice for dinner. Good food and beer, with a great logo (right), and a great slogan: Avoid Heart Attacks, Drink Beer.
We met some other riders from overseas here, touring on Goldwings. A few of them went off and spent the gorgeous day riding the fantastic local roads, while the rest (about 20 others) decided to spend the night before drinking, and spend the whole day sleeping and/or hung over at the hotel. Must've been an 'optional ride day' on their tour... I think they made the wrong choice.
The rain was light, but consistent the next day. We spent the morning in the Hotel before getting antsy and deciding to make the 1 hour ride east to Durango. Light rain and high 30's isn't optimal riding weather, but we've got rain gear, and only need to make it 45 miles to spend the afternoon in a larger town.
We ventured off unfazed (7000 feet elevation) in the cool rain. Unfortunately we got stuck behind a semi (8000 feet), which slowed us down to the point where rain wouldn't clear from our visors. Eventually I couldn't stand it anymore, and before making a move to pass the truck, I swiped my visor clear with my non-waterproof glove. That's when I (we, both,) realized it wasn't entirely the semi's fault our visors weren't clearing... they were frozen. It's now freezing raining... Then it's (8500 feet) snowing. I'm constantly (perhaps as often as every 15 seconds) wiping my visor clear with my now soaking and freezing left hand. I don't much care about snow on me or the bike, Durango is less than half an hour away, as long as the road stays clear and we can continue at 50 MPH. Then, as if we passed some mysterious barrier (9000 feet) the road wasn't clear anymore, not by a long shot. The snow was sticking here, and has been for some time; inches of slushy snow crap cover the road from edge to edge. I slow, and slow, and slow, and am now cruising around 25 MPH, perfectly comfortable with going in a straight line, yet terrified to turn or hit the brakes. Then, passing us going the other direction...
Suspense...
A freaking snow plow.
A FREAKING SNOW PLOW.
Suspense...
Not really, no more suspense about it, I coasted to a comfortable 2.3 MPH and turned the hell around! A SNOW PLOW means it doesn't get better ahead. A SNOW PLOW means motorcycling is not advised. We had no where to go, no where to be, and no business riding in snow to get there. Went back down to 8000 feet and took shelter in a car wash bay for a few minutes so I could get feeling back in my visor-wiping hand.
We ventured off unfazed (7000 feet elevation) in the cool rain. Unfortunately we got stuck behind a semi (8000 feet), which slowed us down to the point where rain wouldn't clear from our visors. Eventually I couldn't stand it anymore, and before making a move to pass the truck, I swiped my visor clear with my non-waterproof glove. That's when I (we, both,) realized it wasn't entirely the semi's fault our visors weren't clearing... they were frozen. It's now freezing raining... Then it's (8500 feet) snowing. I'm constantly (perhaps as often as every 15 seconds) wiping my visor clear with my now soaking and freezing left hand. I don't much care about snow on me or the bike, Durango is less than half an hour away, as long as the road stays clear and we can continue at 50 MPH. Then, as if we passed some mysterious barrier (9000 feet) the road wasn't clear anymore, not by a long shot. The snow was sticking here, and has been for some time; inches of slushy snow crap cover the road from edge to edge. I slow, and slow, and slow, and am now cruising around 25 MPH, perfectly comfortable with going in a straight line, yet terrified to turn or hit the brakes. Then, passing us going the other direction...
Suspense...
A freaking snow plow.
A FREAKING SNOW PLOW.
Suspense...
Not really, no more suspense about it, I coasted to a comfortable 2.3 MPH and turned the hell around! A SNOW PLOW means it doesn't get better ahead. A SNOW PLOW means motorcycling is not advised. We had no where to go, no where to be, and no business riding in snow to get there. Went back down to 8000 feet and took shelter in a car wash bay for a few minutes so I could get feeling back in my visor-wiping hand.
Back to Cortez, rain had mostly subsided there (of course), so we aimlessly wandered up and down main street. Went to the local bicycle shop and the local Sears Hardware (they sell lots of Snow Blowers), We decided to go to a diner, but they closed about 4 minutes before we got there (at 2pm... odd), so we did the only logical thing on a rainy cool day... bought multiple large bags of chips, and went back to the hotel room to watch TV and snack... until dinner time!
Back to the Main Street Brewery restaurant.
For some reason, it was about 10pm (our second night here) that we decided we could do a load of laundry in the hotel's guest use machines. It would've been a good plan, if the drier worked right. Unfortunately for us, it was more of a 'clothes warmer' than a 'clothes drier'. Sometime before 1am, we tried the other drier, which promptly worked appropriately, and we eventually got to go to sleep.
The next morning was sunny and beautiful. Problem was, no one could give us a good answer as to the conditions of the mountain passes. The day before, we got stuck at 9000 feet, this day our route had us over 11,000 feet. The live webcams showed the roads on the passes looking clear, but the reports also listed that commercial vehicles had to chain up... Not good.
The higher elevations got up to 12 inches of snow from that passing front, and they're not near above freezing yet. Our plan was to leave for our loop around noon, to give everything plenty of time to thaw and clear.
We got impatient and left closer to 10am.
Back to the Main Street Brewery restaurant.
For some reason, it was about 10pm (our second night here) that we decided we could do a load of laundry in the hotel's guest use machines. It would've been a good plan, if the drier worked right. Unfortunately for us, it was more of a 'clothes warmer' than a 'clothes drier'. Sometime before 1am, we tried the other drier, which promptly worked appropriately, and we eventually got to go to sleep.
The next morning was sunny and beautiful. Problem was, no one could give us a good answer as to the conditions of the mountain passes. The day before, we got stuck at 9000 feet, this day our route had us over 11,000 feet. The live webcams showed the roads on the passes looking clear, but the reports also listed that commercial vehicles had to chain up... Not good.
The higher elevations got up to 12 inches of snow from that passing front, and they're not near above freezing yet. Our plan was to leave for our loop around noon, to give everything plenty of time to thaw and clear.
We got impatient and left closer to 10am.
We NAILED it!
From Cortez, we headed north on 145, to travel most of the San Juan Skyway.
Now we all know, Colorado, and mountains in general, are awesome. They always provide for the greatest scenery, and winding roads, but we hit these mountains on one of the very few days a year when the temperature was comfortable and the roads were completely clear, yet everything else was covered in fresh snow.
It... was so... AWESOME
After rounding the top of the loop, we came to the cool as heck town of Silverton, where my dad found a Harley Dealership, and I found an adventure bike. Silverton Harley is the worlds highest Harley store, at 9318 feet. Parked up the road was a Triumph 800XC with a license plate from Alaska. This dude had a hell of a story, and I'd love to hear more about it. The quick summary I got was, he (with a British accent) has been teaching English in Asia until he quit very recently. He is now spending a year traveling (the long way) to Panama and back, before going to attempt to get re-hired teaching overseas.
Back to Silverton... this town was just awesome. A wide main street, with parking along both sides and a pile of snow up the middle, gave way to dirt side streets. The buildings all were reminiscent of a time past, and the steam engine that pulls a narrow gauge passenger train into town a couple times a day plays the part perfectly.
Leaving town, the riding was just as spectacular as coming in, this is the Million Dollar Highway after all.
Back to Silverton... this town was just awesome. A wide main street, with parking along both sides and a pile of snow up the middle, gave way to dirt side streets. The buildings all were reminiscent of a time past, and the steam engine that pulls a narrow gauge passenger train into town a couple times a day plays the part perfectly.
Leaving town, the riding was just as spectacular as coming in, this is the Million Dollar Highway after all.
Picture Credited to http://goo.gl/GKP6Xp
We took The Million Dollar Highway (US-550) south from Ridgeway into Ouray, CO, and continued all the way down to Durango. There are stretches of this road that cling to the side of mountains in a way you have to see to believe. There are no shoulders, let alone guard rails. It's hard to describe the breathtaking nature of this road. That's why I had to go steal (barrow) a picture from the internet (right). You can tell it's not my picture, because it's not beautifully snowy, but it shows a stretch of the road that we could not stop on to take pictures.
Perhaps one of the neatest features was in the high elevation stretches, where snow was quite substantial off the highway, we passed several folks skiing and snowboarding! They would park on the side of the road, snow shoe up a hill with their skis or board strapped to their back, and then ski back down to the road.
All in all, there was an awesome feeling up here. A sort of "WE MADE IT" feeling. The questionable weather had something to do with it, but regardless, everyone knew it. I passed other motorcycles and skiers and boarders with an obvious feeling of victory, kind of like THIS, and it was always shot right back at me from them. We made it.
Perhaps one of the neatest features was in the high elevation stretches, where snow was quite substantial off the highway, we passed several folks skiing and snowboarding! They would park on the side of the road, snow shoe up a hill with their skis or board strapped to their back, and then ski back down to the road.
All in all, there was an awesome feeling up here. A sort of "WE MADE IT" feeling. The questionable weather had something to do with it, but regardless, everyone knew it. I passed other motorcycles and skiers and boarders with an obvious feeling of victory, kind of like THIS, and it was always shot right back at me from them. We made it.
Picture Credit to http://goo.gl/wNLgwY
Durango is a cool as heck town. Just off the Million Dollar Highway (and some of the greatest roads in the country), home of the Durango-Silverton Narrow Gauge Railway, not far from Durango Mountain Ski Resort, tons of nearby biking/hiking trails, near world famous 4x4/dual-sport trails, gnarley white water, and just enough 'touristyness' to have happening night life and free trollies for public transportation. I could live in Durango. I would live in Durango. (Mental note - Once I win the lottery, buy a place in Durango.)
Anyway... Durango. We have no excuse here, but we didn't take any pictures of Durango. We rode through town first to see what we could see. Lots of people, lots of shops. Back to the outskirts of town where we picked a random no-name motel. It wasn't necessarily a 'hidden gem' like we were half hoping for, but it was cheap and adequate. Hopped a free trolley downtown, and made a mental note that the free trollies ended at 10pm. (After that though, like any awesome town should have, they've got a trolley driving around called the Buzz Bus, that'll pick you up and take you home for $5. Hah!)
We jumped out at a random spot near downtown, and decided to walk up Main Street.
Anyway... Durango. We have no excuse here, but we didn't take any pictures of Durango. We rode through town first to see what we could see. Lots of people, lots of shops. Back to the outskirts of town where we picked a random no-name motel. It wasn't necessarily a 'hidden gem' like we were half hoping for, but it was cheap and adequate. Hopped a free trolley downtown, and made a mental note that the free trollies ended at 10pm. (After that though, like any awesome town should have, they've got a trolley driving around called the Buzz Bus, that'll pick you up and take you home for $5. Hah!)
We jumped out at a random spot near downtown, and decided to walk up Main Street.
Picture Credit To http://goo.gl/XihjMr
Casually strolling up Main Street, we find ourselves about ten feet behind a couple that look an awful lot like Paul and his wife. Paul who we split up from five days ago, and went our own separate ways. Paul, who was going to take his wife on a bit of an adventure from Albuquerque to Denver before meeting back up with us.
IT WAS PAUL AND HIS WIFE!
Unbelievable. What are the chances, of all the cities, of all the streets, of all the times... we found them.
They were off to a small bar for a drink, before going to a funky restaurant (perhaps the Himalayan Kitchen?!). We joined them for a drink.
IT WAS PAUL AND HIS WIFE!
Unbelievable. What are the chances, of all the cities, of all the streets, of all the times... we found them.
They were off to a small bar for a drink, before going to a funky restaurant (perhaps the Himalayan Kitchen?!). We joined them for a drink.
Picture Credit To http://goo.gl/NxvkCj
I'd love to reference the exact bar we were in, I really would. Problem is, I don't remember the name, the street, the appearance, anything. I remember one thing, but it's not important, and I probably shouldn't mention the bartender; Sara from Australia, it might get me in trouble. I definitely won't mention that she was moderately (extremely) attractive (smokin hot), because that would be completely irrelevant to the story at hand.
Where were we? Ah yes, we stopped for a round before dinner. Well, we had to catch up with Paul and his wife (who spent the day on the visiting Silverton via railroad), so a round turned into, I don't know... 6 rounds?! After having not eaten since our hotel breakfast (Waffles!), things were getting interesting. Luckily, the bar we were in had a heck of a spread of free bar food: shimp(!), hot wings, hotdogs, chips, vegitables, etc. which we promptly destroyed. We eventually left and went to another bar (not sure why), this one I think was a brewpub. A great time was had by all.
Back to the streets, where the fast food places were all closed (very disappointing), but the Buzz Bus showed up and grabbed us! We weren't near a bus stop, just aimlessly wandering. They probably spotted us from a mile away. She dropped a couple folks off (at their houses!) before taking us to our hotel. What a great service!
Where were we? Ah yes, we stopped for a round before dinner. Well, we had to catch up with Paul and his wife (who spent the day on the visiting Silverton via railroad), so a round turned into, I don't know... 6 rounds?! After having not eaten since our hotel breakfast (Waffles!), things were getting interesting. Luckily, the bar we were in had a heck of a spread of free bar food: shimp(!), hot wings, hotdogs, chips, vegitables, etc. which we promptly destroyed. We eventually left and went to another bar (not sure why), this one I think was a brewpub. A great time was had by all.
Back to the streets, where the fast food places were all closed (very disappointing), but the Buzz Bus showed up and grabbed us! We weren't near a bus stop, just aimlessly wandering. They probably spotted us from a mile away. She dropped a couple folks off (at their houses!) before taking us to our hotel. What a great service!
Amazingly, we didn't feel to bad in the morning, despite our alcohol-for-dinner experience the night before.
From Durango, we ventured north again on the Million Dollar Highway, and then east on 50. The Million Dollar Highway was spectacular once more (as we knew it would be, which is why we chose to ride it again going the other direction), and 50 was not bad. As with many of the roads in Colorado, we were in what appeared to be a vast valley one moment, and in a massive canyon the next. Cruising flat terrain, then crossing a mountain pass. Everything was so inconsistent, it made for an always enjoyable ride. We passed Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, and eventually crossed Monarch Pass, at over 11,300 feet. We then sunk into the Arkansas River Valley, where the headwaters for the Arkansas River lay (which, you'll remember, we crossed the Arkansas in Oklahoma coming out here, on the Webber Falls Bridge). We eventually came to the artsy town of Salida, CO, and decided it would be our stop for the night. We walked the town and stopped in an outdoors store. We learned that Salida is a major stop on the Continental Divide Trail, a 3100 mile hiking trail along the divide, from Mexico to Canada. Here's someone's hiking experience coming into Salida, take a look at some of their pictures, and try to wrap you mind around what that 6 months would be like. There is a mountain bike trail that goes parallel (and sometime joins with) this trail, which is the topic of the documentary Ride the Divide. There is also a Dual Sport/4x4 route following the continental divide with tons of ride reports and pictures. If my report isn't dragging on enough for you, I recommend spending hours reading this one.
Anyway... We went to the Hostel, thinking, this could be fun! Stay cheap, and meet some characters! Then we were disappointed to see it would be more expensive than a hotel room. Back to a nice looking no-name hotel, and who is there? Mister Triumph 800XC Alaska to Panama guy! Crazy stuff!
From Durango, we ventured north again on the Million Dollar Highway, and then east on 50. The Million Dollar Highway was spectacular once more (as we knew it would be, which is why we chose to ride it again going the other direction), and 50 was not bad. As with many of the roads in Colorado, we were in what appeared to be a vast valley one moment, and in a massive canyon the next. Cruising flat terrain, then crossing a mountain pass. Everything was so inconsistent, it made for an always enjoyable ride. We passed Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, and eventually crossed Monarch Pass, at over 11,300 feet. We then sunk into the Arkansas River Valley, where the headwaters for the Arkansas River lay (which, you'll remember, we crossed the Arkansas in Oklahoma coming out here, on the Webber Falls Bridge). We eventually came to the artsy town of Salida, CO, and decided it would be our stop for the night. We walked the town and stopped in an outdoors store. We learned that Salida is a major stop on the Continental Divide Trail, a 3100 mile hiking trail along the divide, from Mexico to Canada. Here's someone's hiking experience coming into Salida, take a look at some of their pictures, and try to wrap you mind around what that 6 months would be like. There is a mountain bike trail that goes parallel (and sometime joins with) this trail, which is the topic of the documentary Ride the Divide. There is also a Dual Sport/4x4 route following the continental divide with tons of ride reports and pictures. If my report isn't dragging on enough for you, I recommend spending hours reading this one.
Anyway... We went to the Hostel, thinking, this could be fun! Stay cheap, and meet some characters! Then we were disappointed to see it would be more expensive than a hotel room. Back to a nice looking no-name hotel, and who is there? Mister Triumph 800XC Alaska to Panama guy! Crazy stuff!
Our route from Albuquerque to Salida
The next day was our last day riding; we were meeting up with Paul first thing the following morning. We had no clue where to go, but Denver was only about 2 hours away so we had some time to kill. We looked into Pikes Peak, but the high temperatures up there were around 19 or 20, and it was windy and snowy.... not optimal riding conditions. We also thought about Aspen, no real reason, other than I heard somewhere that the beer flows like wine, and beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano there.
Then we heard on the news over breakfast something about Colorado paying to open Rocky Mountain National Park. Perfect! We Go North! Zig-Zagging on roads that went from massive mountains, to endless plains, to mammoth canyons (Colorado is great), we land at the entrance to the park. Maps showed one main through road, which we much prefer over just one road going in to look at something, and then coming right back out. We made it to the sign, and everything looked promising... then the toll both... still promising, cars are going in! We've struck gold here!
Then we heard on the news over breakfast something about Colorado paying to open Rocky Mountain National Park. Perfect! We Go North! Zig-Zagging on roads that went from massive mountains, to endless plains, to mammoth canyons (Colorado is great), we land at the entrance to the park. Maps showed one main through road, which we much prefer over just one road going in to look at something, and then coming right back out. We made it to the sign, and everything looked promising... then the toll both... still promising, cars are going in! We've struck gold here!
"It'll be $10 per bike, and you can go 13 miles in"
Huh? I thought the park was open?
"It is, you can go in, to see nature, but you can't go through."
We went back and forth a few times, my frustration levels raising, before he mentioned the road is closed due to massive snow drifts, so we simply cannot make it through to Estes Park. Oh. Yeah Ok, we're not paying $10 per bike to go 10 miles up this road. Thanks bye!
The conversation was actually much longer than that; the ranger was a good guy, and he actually has visited (and remembered the name of) the metro park just a couple miles from my house. He wanted to have a long conversation, I was uncomfortable with the line of traffic backing up behind me.
We rolled on, in some gigantic detour going way the heck north, then east, then south. It was another great ride through Roosevelt National Forest and more mountains and valleys.
Huh? I thought the park was open?
"It is, you can go in, to see nature, but you can't go through."
We went back and forth a few times, my frustration levels raising, before he mentioned the road is closed due to massive snow drifts, so we simply cannot make it through to Estes Park. Oh. Yeah Ok, we're not paying $10 per bike to go 10 miles up this road. Thanks bye!
The conversation was actually much longer than that; the ranger was a good guy, and he actually has visited (and remembered the name of) the metro park just a couple miles from my house. He wanted to have a long conversation, I was uncomfortable with the line of traffic backing up behind me.
We rolled on, in some gigantic detour going way the heck north, then east, then south. It was another great ride through Roosevelt National Forest and more mountains and valleys.
The detour dragged on a bit later than expected, and fall's early sunset fell upon us. Our plan was to find a hotel east of Denver, to aid in getting out of town in the morning. (If you've been lucky enough to visit Denver sometime in your life, you'll know that, immediately to the west is all the amazing stuff I've been posting pictures of for the last... long time... while to the east is... abso-freaking-lutely nothing... basically, until the Appalachian Mountains.) So, in what seemed like an instant, we were riding on flat, straight, pitch black, super windy (as in, blow you over windy, not twisty turny windy), empty roads. Not fun. It's going to get a little emotional here, brace yourself...
I'll admit, I was probably a bit mentally exhausted at this point; just from the scenery overload, and constant moving (although, we never really had long or hard days). I was getting frustrated. I didn't want to be leaving the mountains, I didn't want to be dealing with crosswinds and corn fields, I didn't want to spend 3-4 days going home, but mostly, I didn't want it to be over. I was, at that time, what you might consider, oh I don't know, not-exaclty-employed, so the temptation to stay was weighing on my frustrations heavily. No job to go home to? Why stop the party???
There were no hotels east of Denver, so we had to backtrack 25 miles on the interstate in the dark and windyness. I don't remember if it was cold, but lets, for the sake of helping justify my little mental cry-baby state, pretend it was freezing cold too. Frustrating.
Now I'm a reasonable guy, so I just bottled up my feelings and dealt with them on my own. I didn't have camping stuff, so staying on my own would mean paying out the nose for my own motel room every night (not smart on a salary of zero). Tires, gas, food... everything would add up. It was the latter half of October now, and the weather is not going to be adequate in Colorado much longer, perhaps not even in Utah since I don't have my real cold weather gear.
Whatever... I'll be back out here, I've got tons more of mountain passes to traverse and canyons to carve and national parks to ogle at and dirt roads to roost and creeks to cross and and and and... next time. For this time... we park the bikes and find dinner. I don't remember where we were, but they had Alaskan Amber on draught. Nice.
I'll admit, I was probably a bit mentally exhausted at this point; just from the scenery overload, and constant moving (although, we never really had long or hard days). I was getting frustrated. I didn't want to be leaving the mountains, I didn't want to be dealing with crosswinds and corn fields, I didn't want to spend 3-4 days going home, but mostly, I didn't want it to be over. I was, at that time, what you might consider, oh I don't know, not-exaclty-employed, so the temptation to stay was weighing on my frustrations heavily. No job to go home to? Why stop the party???
There were no hotels east of Denver, so we had to backtrack 25 miles on the interstate in the dark and windyness. I don't remember if it was cold, but lets, for the sake of helping justify my little mental cry-baby state, pretend it was freezing cold too. Frustrating.
Now I'm a reasonable guy, so I just bottled up my feelings and dealt with them on my own. I didn't have camping stuff, so staying on my own would mean paying out the nose for my own motel room every night (not smart on a salary of zero). Tires, gas, food... everything would add up. It was the latter half of October now, and the weather is not going to be adequate in Colorado much longer, perhaps not even in Utah since I don't have my real cold weather gear.
Whatever... I'll be back out here, I've got tons more of mountain passes to traverse and canyons to carve and national parks to ogle at and dirt roads to roost and creeks to cross and and and and... next time. For this time... we park the bikes and find dinner. I don't remember where we were, but they had Alaskan Amber on draught. Nice.
Chapter 3
Goodbye For Now, Most Awesome of Locales.
Oh I'm sorry... did you think the excitement would stop, just because we're now heading home? Sorry to burst your little bubble of disappointment, but the shenanigans are still going strong, and why not! We've got 3 days to get home.
We left on US-36, but bounced around between tons of state and US routes while heading 'east'.
This thing was just off the road. It was a functioning older all wood windpump. It was interesting to get up close and personal with something like this after seeing so many in various states of disrepair off in the distance.
The wind became a little more intense, and suddenly we were playing an awesome game of "Hit the Tumbleweed". Take a click on that picture to the left, and imagine driving up that road at 60 MPH, trying to hit as many flying tumbleweeds as possible. Good stuff. Occasionally we'd see a monster of a 'weed' thumping across the side of the road, like a freaking rolling Christmas tree. I don't know if they were just 'in season', or if tumbleweeds are always this prevalent, but I've always cast them off as something from the movies, that doesn't much exist anymore. I was wrong.
Here are some more pictures from the drive...
We made it to the Geographic Center of the 48 states. How very exciting!
But do you know where the geographic center of North America is? I do!
We stopped at the Home On The Range Cabin, where Dr. Brewster M. Higley wrote that now-famous poem/song.
It was getting late, but we just couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the worlds largest ball of twine (dressed up for Halloween)! We walked around it, pushed it, smelled it, you know, all the normal stuff you would do. Then we left.
Dinner and a hotel came up the road a bit, where we asked our little waitress girl if she'd visited the worlds largest ball of twine before. Paul was in the middle of shoving salad in his mouth when she said
"Oh God, you didn't touch it did you???"
Playing real cool like, we all look at each other startled, and say, "Uh... Why?"
"You know people pee on that thing!!!"
Paul gently places his fork back on his plate and goes into a deep thought mode, surely trying to remember if he's eaten anything sans silverware yet.
All the little girl waitresses had a good laugh as we went one by one to the bathroom to wash our hands.
We got a brand newly remodeled room at the Super 8; it was probably the nicest place we stayed the whole time. Look! Windpumps!
I'm not sure why my dad took a picture of the waffle maker, but he did, so I featured it here in all it's glory!
He also took a ninjad in for a picture of Paul and me. Waffle for me, oatmeal for Paul, the usual... Delicious.
Heading west brought Route 66, the main route for the first half of the 20th century. Heading east, we hit the Oregon Trail, the main route to the west for the first half of the 19th century. It was interesting to compare these two route, and the different obstacles the travelers could face. Of course, 98% of my knowledge of this trail comes from the computer game, where I'm pretty sure the only way to win was to buy tons of ammo, and just go hunting until you couldn't carry any more meat.
We went wagon rut hunting and came out successful, so we walked the trail a bit. Very cool.
Unfortunately...
We ventured into Kansas City and parked the beast to spend some time walking around. Kansas City is pretty cool, I could see it being a great place to spend a long weekend with a feminine friend. The Plaza area featured high end stores (think Easton Town Center if your a Columbus person), but, they're all in historically and architecturally awesome buildings covering a 15 block area. Numerous statues around as well. It was a great way to spend a couple hours before dinner time. Kansas City is known for it's barbeque, so we headed up to the famous (original) Arthur Bryant's restaurant. (In searching for the website to link here, I found an article from the local media... apparently just a month before we got there, the place was shut down for a couple days for several health code violations.) Unfortunately for Mister Bryant, I liked the Memphis Barbeque better this time. This was still quite good.
We drove about half way to St. Louis and stopped for the night. The next morning we made it the rest of the way, and stopped to admire the (closed) gateway arch. We tried to take a bunch of artsy photos of the thing, some came out cool, others, not so much.
Now, for the quiz... did you look through all those pictures? Did you see the one of my dad being interviewed by the news? Yes? You've earned a cookie. No? Really? No? You're telling me, you're reading all this non-sense, and not paying attention to the pictures? The pictures are what this is all about! The only reason I'm actually writing this junk is to prove to my middle school English teachers that I'm not as 'below-average' as they thought. Go back and find the picture of my dad being interviewed by the news.
Jeesh. So I looked it up online later; it doesn't look like they used his clip, but they did use a clip of us in the background. Nice. We made the news. Other pictures from St. Louis:
Jeesh. So I looked it up online later; it doesn't look like they used his clip, but they did use a clip of us in the background. Nice. We made the news. Other pictures from St. Louis:
Now you're surely thinking this things over. St. Louis to Columbus? They're just going to blast the rest of the way home right? This ride report is FINALLY going to end?
WRONG!
We stopped at the Vandalia Statehouse, and walked on the original wood floor that Abe Lincoln walked on!
THEN HOLY COW BIG FINISH...
We also stopped and saw the worlds largest wind chime, golf tee, knitting needles, chrochet hook, and horse shoe!
AMAZING!!!!
WRONG!
We stopped at the Vandalia Statehouse, and walked on the original wood floor that Abe Lincoln walked on!
THEN HOLY COW BIG FINISH...
We also stopped and saw the worlds largest wind chime, golf tee, knitting needles, chrochet hook, and horse shoe!
AMAZING!!!!
And that's that! 2 weeks of westerly adventure. The kind of adventure that, immediately upon arriving home, you scream AGAIN! There is so much more to see, and while this trip was nothing short of great, I need to go back; I will go back. We motorcycled a total of 2200 miles and had zero issues (after my initial jump start). 2200 miles of some of the greatest riding in the world. We fought a little bad weather, only to be blessed with amazing snow capped surroundings for days following. The vast majority of people will never get to see the wonders we just motorcycled through; and that's a shame, because it... the world... is just awesome.
We Freaking Win.
We Freaking Win.
