trip report (long)
Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2002 4:23 pm
Has it already been two weeks? Wow. The bike was loaded up Saturday
morning. (June 29) My AMA card still hadn't showed up in the mail.
With no center stand or AMA card, I was hoping I had paid my dues to
the gods of flat tires and other breakdowns. Saturday took me from
Livermore, CA to Ridgecrest. I spent two nights camped out in the
Mojave desert outside of town. After an unseasonably cold start to
the summer here in Livermore, it was nice to finally defrost. I
think it was 103 in the shade. YES! If you've never seen a high
desert sunrise and/or sunset, you don't know what you are missing. I
had almost forgotten how spectacular they are. Spent Sunday with
friends watching Brazil beat Germany in the final game of the World
Cup. Monday morning took me through Barstow and other parts of route
66. I was heading towards Lake Mead. Near the top of 15, I decided
I hadn't had enough of the Mojave. So I took a right turn to Cima.
That was a bad time to hit reserve. I didn't take into account that
I was pushing a 7% or 8% grade with a light headwind. The Mojave
preserve was the worth the risk. I made it back to $2.50 gas without
walking. I hit Henderson during the hottest part of the day. It was
117 if I remember. Even though I had taken many water breaks, I was
more dehydrated than I realized. I went ahead and checked into a
hotel in Henderson. One with a pool and a functional ice machine.
The next morning I continued to Lake Mead. I bought a National Park
pass at the entrance. The ride through Lake Mead park was hot and a
little humid. Just enough to make me drowsy. Two things happened
that woke me up. The first was coming around a blind corner and
almost hitting a wild burro. The second was when I stopped on the
side of the road where this nice cement shoulder/apron was. As I
looked up at the overcast sky, I realized I had stopped in a flash
flood runoff area. And it was flash flood weather. It wasn't
raining, but discretion dictated that I get back on the bike and go,
NOW. Now that I was fully awake, it was on to Zion. Highway 9
through the park is open, but if you want to see the whole thing by
road, you have to take a park shuttle. Zion was amazing. Don't
believe the pictures or descriptions. Just go and see for yourself.
After Zion it was down to Fredonia and another hotel. I turned on
TLC in time to watch a program on the building of the Boulder
(Hoover) dam. It was strangely appropriate. Wednesday I was off to
see the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. The next day I read a quote
that I will most likely butcher. Something about "words cannot warn
you and time cannot prepare you for the view from the North Rim." I
didn't even bother to take pictures. Who would belive it? I was
looking at it and I didn't believe it. After two hours at Bright
Angel point, I had to see more. So I headed up to Imperial Point. I
never made it. About halfway there it began to snow and rain. The
rain wasn't so bad, but I left my snow chains at home. I decided
that Utah was a better place to be. So out of the park and through a
lightning storm I rode, looking for better weather. I made Bryce
Canyon around 6pm. I could have ended my trip right there. I am so
sorry I missed the CMC this year. Having had my first taste of Utah,
I won't miss next year's event. I'm serious, I'm considering writing
the Utah Highway department. They need to post signs. Something
like, "Warning. Breathtaking view around every corner. Drive with
caution." They really should warn people. I hiked a few miles of
the Rim Trail in Bryce before it became obvious that the ankle I
broke in last September's KLR -vs- wild pig, was not fully healed.
So I saw as much as I could on two wheels. Including the Dixie
National Forest right outside the park. The washboard road out to
Tropic resevoir about tore the handlebars out of my hands at 25mph.
The same washboard at 40-50mph was smooth as silk. The 4th of July
celebration at Bryce consisted of one of the rangers reciting the
Declaration of Independence from memory, with historical and
political commentary. It started with a singing of our National
Anthem. There weren't too many dry eyes in the house. Friday, July
5th, I decided to head back west. I had already been overwhelmed
with scenery for days on end, and my ankle was throbbing. My plan
was to make the California border before night fall. I split between
Bryce and Zion and took 14 over to Cedar City. Then across Nevada on
375. I had to stop for the obligatory Alien Burger in Rachel, NV, on
my way to Tonapah. By the time I hit California, the sun was still
high in the sky. I figured I would at least hit Lee Vining before
calling it a night. But it wasn't really that late by the time I hit
Lee Vining. I figured I could make Yosemite easily. Actually, I
figured I could make it through the park before sundown. So I just
kept on going. Maybe it was the fact I was on 120. I don't know.
But I've always considered 120 as being just down the road. So my
reverse logic dictated that if I were on 120, then home was just down
the road. So I just kept on going. I spent 4 riding days getting to
Bryce, and 1 day getting back. The trip was about 2000 miles total.
The last day was around 850 miles with the stock saddle.
Animal encounters...
wild burro in Lake Mead
deer in Grand Canyon
deer on Mines Road 5 miles from home were the worst.
Idiot encounters...
not all of the california plates were idiots, but almost all the
idiots had california plates.
Accessories I appreciated the most...
SeaLine dry bags during the snow
LoobMan chain oiler
Waterproof gloves and boots
Rainsuit
National Park Pass
Bandana (everything from cleaning face shield to preventing sunburn)
Most memorable people...
The Canadian on his R65. He was making a movie of his trip. He had
a camera mount on his handlebars. We swapped stories about snow and
hail in the high country.
Emily. About 6 years old. She was absolutely fascinated by, and
determined to catch, the chipmunk that came to every vacated table at
the Bryce canyon general store looking for scraps. I was her extra
eyes. She waved a big good-bye from the back seat of her
grandparent's car.
All of the foreigners who seemed to think I was a tour guide for the
USA. I think maybe motorcycles cross a lot of cultural barriers.
All in all it was a great trip. If you've ever considered motorcycle
camping, there is no time like the present. And there is no better
bike than the one you have right now.
Oh yeah, the second week... just lazy R&R for me and the KLR.
Bill A15