The Art of Endurance - Gadjet's not so daily log

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Gadjet
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#21 Unread post by Gadjet »

T-23 days and counting.

Counting to what? you may ask.

The last of my remaining vacation time and, for me, a monumental trip. On September 2nd, I will be leaving from some as-yet-unspecified location in Lethbridge, Alberta Canada and riding south to Nogales Mexico, a distance of a little over 2500km. Not only will this be the longest trip I have undertaken on my motorcycle, It will also be the first time I have ever been to Mexico. I plan to cover a distance of a little over 1700km on my first day of riding, thus qualifying for another SS1600k certificate from the Iron Butt Association. After a few hours of sleep, I will be on the road once more, to cover the remaining 800km or so to arrive in Mexico, less than 36hrs after I left Lethbridge. If I can accomplish this, I will qualify for two more IBA certificates, a BunBurner 2500k and a Border to Border.

After much celebrating (and sleep), I will then point my trusty steed north towards home to enjoy a much more leisurely cruise back home, with the goal to arrive back home by Sept 7th or 8th.

Why would I subject myself to a ride of this magnitude?

Because I can.

I am that rare breed of motorcycle rider who enjoys pushing myself to my limits in tests of long distance and endurance riding; to see just how far I can go in a day, or two days on my bike. Even if I don't make it within the time allowed, I can still say I tried my best, and I'll have learned how far I can push myself - at that moment in time. It will give me a goal to work towards, to improve my endurance, to push that limit a little farther down the road.

What are we, as human beings, if we don't have goals?

For more information on the rides I have mentioned, as well as many others, check out the Iron Butt Association's website at http://www.ironbutt.com
1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
2005 Kawasaki KLR 650 (sold)
2020 KTM 200 Duke
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Gadjet
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There and Back Again - My trip to Mexico

#22 Unread post by Gadjet »

There and Back Again
A Hobbi….er, Rider’s Tale


Wow, what a trip. It’s amazing just how quickly 6 days can seem to fly by when you are riding a motorcycle across the country. There were a lot of very good moments, and there were also some very bad moments. I met some very wonderful people along the way and got to experience firsthand that no matter where you are from, or what you ride, as long as you ride you are a brother in spirit.

But perhaps I should start at the beginning, with my departure from home the evening before I was to ‘officially’ begin my assault on what would be my most ambitious endurance ride to date – a Border to Border ride, from Canada to Mexico, with a Saddlesore 1000 and Bunburner 1500 thrown in for good measure.

Friday, September 1, 2006
~1730hrs (T-12 hrs)

Having gotten out of work early, I had run off and gotten some last minute shopping done, then headed home for a shower and a bite to eat before I finished packing up the bike to head south to my designated start location.

Image

After saying goodbye to my parents and my daughter, I headed off to gas up the bike and hit the road. My dad, packing my daughter along behind him, rode with me for the first 20km, then I peeled off to hit the #2 southbound to Calgary and points beyond.

Stopped to visit my brother in Calgary briefly and to get some cash from him, then headed off to see Steve Broadhead elsewhere in the city. He was hunting electrical gremlins on his ST, and I was there to get his signature as a start witness (a little unorthodox, I know, as I would be starting 200km and 8hrs away from him). Finally, at around 9pm, I said goodbye to Steve and hit the highway again, with the intention of getting to Lethbridge that night for a nice comfy 5 hrs of sleep in a motel before I had to get up and officially start my endurance ride.

About an hour down the road, I stopped in High River to grab something hot to drink and a quick snack, as well as throw on some extra layers as it was starting to get cool out. Typical for me, however, being as rushed as I was, I completely forgot that I had plugged in my electric vest when I left Steve’s, and when I hopped off the bike and stepped backwards, the cord stretched out and pulled the plugs apart. Given that the vest never did work again after that, my only thought is that I pulled the wiring apart inside the vest, as the connection on the bike and the fuse are still good. Another painful lesson in paying attention.

Rolled into Fort MacLeod shortly before 2300hrs, and decided that I was going to grab a cheap motel there, rather than push on to Lethbridge that night. It would just mean that I would have to get up about 10 minutes earlier in order to cover the distance to Lethbridge so that my start time there would be as close to 5am as I could get.

After unpacking what I needed off the bike and making sure that it was locked up, I set my (newly purchased) Screaming Meanie for 5hrs and settled into sleep.

When they say these things will wake the dead, they most certainly are not kidding. I think I was awake and lunging for the ‘off’ button before that infernal device had emitted it’s second tone at the ’10 minutes to go’ mark.

After having a shower and getting dressed, I repacked the bike and headed off into the pre-dawn darkness, with my destination being Lethbridge and my first gas stop to get my official start time. Once that happened, the clock would truly be ticking and I would have 24hrs to get to Page, AZ to get my SS1000 mileage done, and only an additional 12hrs to get to Nogales, MX for the BB1500 mileage and my precious B2B.

0522, Sept. 2 2006 (23544.1km)

Topped off my tank at the Esso station in Lethbridge and started the clock counting down. After I explained to the clerk what I was doing, he was more than happy to sign my witness form and start me on my way. For his trouble, he received a ‘Canada’ neck lanyard (I packed some ‘Canada’ souvenirs to hand out to my witnesses as a token of appreciation. Much better than a generic ‘Thank You’ card in my opinion).

Rolled out of the Esso station and picked up Highway 4 to take me south to Coutts and the crossing into Montana. Unfortunately, approximately 54km down the road, my GPS decided to have ‘issues’ and dumped my route. Oh well, at least I can still use it to monitor my actual speed and keep a running total of my mileage. Or so I thought.

When I arrived at the border, I handed the guard my ID and asked where the nearest place to get something hot to drink was, as the temperature was hovering around 8C and I was a little chilled (damn that non-functional electric vest!) ‘Shelby is the closest, about 30 miles down the road’. He waved me through, I thanked him, and headed off into what was now getting to be sunrise.
Stopped in Shelby to grab a hot chocolate and a quick bite to eat, as I hadn’t had breakfast yet. I was planning to do that when I got to my next gas stop, scheduled to be Great Falls. Again, things wouldn’t quite go as planned. Northern Montana doesn’t have much in the way of scenery, but it does have a lot of wind, and this affected my mileage so much that I was very shocked when my bike started to sputter and I had to flip to reserve about 10 miles north of Vaughn Montana.

0836, Sept. 2 (Vaughn Montana, 23826.2 km)

Filled up the bike and shivered a bit, as the temperature had been steadily dropping as I headed south (what the heck is up with that?) I think it stopped getting colder when my thermometer hit 2.6C, and I wouldn’t start to see the temps climb again until I hit Great Falls.

1022, Sept. 2 (Montana City, Montana, 23992.6 km)

Was starting to get back on track and did a quick gas and go. Oil level on the bike was fine, and everything was running smoothly.

1248, Sept. 2 (Dillon, Montana, 24194.3 km)

Pulled in for fuel again, and saw a brand new BMW R1200GS at one of the pumps. I knew which gas pump I was going to. As I was fuelling up, the owner of the bike came out to check out my ride, and when I told her who I was and what I was doing, she recognized me right away. Her enthusiasm for my ride and encouragement picked up my spirits and gave me a new drive to keep going. After some well wishes on both sides, I rode off, with my intended destination being Idaho Falls for fuel and lunch.

1520, Sept. 2 (Idaho Falls, Idaho, 24424.3 km)

Fueled the bike at the Flying J and myself at the McDonalds – gotta love their dollar menu. Also called my SS1000 finish witness, Doug Banfelder, to let him know where I was and that I was running a little behind schedule due to the winds and the slowly increasing temperature. I had been hoping to be further south at this point in time.

1739, Sept 2 (Perry, Utah, 24678 km)

I had wanted to make this a quick gas and go, but the heat was starting to get to me, and I refilled my hydration pack and gave the bike a once over to make sure that it was handling the heat. Still hadn’t burned a drop of oil, and I was fairly impressed. These bikes are supposed to have a reputation for burning oil when running for a long time at freeway speeds. Of course, I had been trying to keep my speed down to between 70 and 75 mph in order to maximize my fuel economy. I was getting into a nice steady groove and eating up the miles, even though I was still running behind.

2124, Sept 2 (Nephi, Utah, 24903.8 km)

This was a long stop, as I was getting tired and needed a breather. Got to talking to a wonderful mormon gentleman by the name of Kevin who gave me some great advice about things to watch for and where I would be able to get gas on my chosen route. Thanks Kevin, your advice was spot on. Also tossed my extra layers back on, as the temps were starting to come down and I knew I was going to be heading into the mountains in just a few more miles.

2337, Sept. 2 (Beaver, Utah, 25085.5 km)

Stopped for fuel and also gave Doug another call to let him know where I was and that I figured I would be at least another 2 hours or so getting to Page. Boy, was I ever optimistic. After I left Beaver I headed off down I15 for the last time that night, turning off to head East on SR20 over the mountains. I started to doubt my choice of routes when the first thing I encountered was a Texas gate and a long climb with several warning signs – deer, elk, and cows. ‘Great, just what I needed to watch out for at this time of night’

The state really needs to put up another warning sign on that road though, for rabbits. I had more close encounters on that short 20 mile stretch of sadistically slow and twisty pavement with the small furry vermin than I did with bambi. Never did see any elk or cows though, for which I was thankful. Once I got onto US89 I was able to get my speed up to a much more respectable 50 – 60 mph, still staying on the lookout for critters.
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#23 Unread post by Gadjet »

0223, Sept. 3 (Kanab, Utah, 25272.3 km)

Last fuel before Arizona, and I was stoked. I was running well behind my planned schedule, but I was still on track to make it to Page within the 24hrs to get my SS1000. Hit the road again and headed East for the last 70 miles before breakfast. The road was a little rough, and I still had to watch out for bambi (again, no deer, but just about spiked Wiley 3 miles out of town). It was a beautiful stretch of road, and one that I thought would be nice to ride during daylight when I could actually see the scenery around me (haha, fool that I am). Started to get tired when I got closer to Big Water, Utah, but when I got to the top of the last rise before I started my descent to Glen Canyon dam and the bridge over the Little Colorado River, I really perked up. At the ‘Page, 9 miles’ sign I was almost cheering in my helmet, as I knew I was going to make it.

As I rolled over the bridge, I could see the lights of the dam and thought to myself ‘this isn’t so bad, it’s not that far down to the water’

Yah, silly me. Thank god it was as dark as it was and I couldn’t see the reality of it.

0356 MST/0456 MDT (Page, Arizona 25389.7 km)

All times after this are Mountain Standard Time. Arizona does not use Daylight Savings Time. This really buggered me up initially.

Rolled into the parking lot of Denny’s where Doug Banfelder was waiting for me. After some initial greetings, we headed inside to where he had taken over a booth to get the paperwork signed and also to get me some food – I needed the receipt to show my arrival time, so I ordered quickly and asked for the bill at the same time.

While we shared coffee (my first in over 20hrs) and I had something to eat, Doug and I discussed my options for how to continue. I had made it to Page within the 24hr window to get my SS1000, but I was still over 3hrs behind schedule. I had initially planned to grab a couple hours of sleep in Page, but that option was quickly dismissed. The food was picking me up and re-energizing me, so we decided to top up the tanks on our bikes and push on to Flagstaff. If I was too tired to continue there, then we would find a cheap motel and I would try to grab some sleep. Doug hadn’t slept much himself while waiting for me, but he volunteered to ride with me all the way to Phoenix, where he lived. We could keep an eye on each other this way, and he knew the roads. So we took a quick photo, then headed off to fuel up the bikes and hit the road

Image

0453, Sept. 3 (Page, Arizona, 25391.8 km)

Fueled up and headed off into the sunrise.

As we climbed out of Page and up to the top of the escarpment, I started to have some power problems with Kylie; she just didn’t want to run very well, and seemed to be skipping a beat every so often. I chalked this up to the altitude we were heading up to and settled into the ride as best as I could.

Coming down off the bluff into the Navajo Reservation was very scary for me, as I’ve never been a big fan of downhill curves (that whole thing about gravity working against you), and there were a lot of curves on this short stretch of pavement, with a really nasty drop off on one side and solid rock on the other. I was glad to get down into the valley, where we could roll along and admire the view. I wished I could have stopped to take pictures, as the bluff looked spectacular in the light of the rising sun.

As the sun came up though, I started to get tired, and I pulled ahead of Doug as we got closer to Grey Mountain, just outside of the Reserve Lands. I needed to get off the bike and take a walk around. Doug bought me a hot chocolate and he had an iced coffee drink, as he admitted that he had started to get a little tired as well. I also took this opportunity to adjust my chain, which had started to stretch a little, and gave it a shot of lube. Doug rolled the bike forward while I waddled along behind spraying the chain (really need to get myself a Scottoiler). After a few minutes, we pushed on towards Flagstaff and cooler temperatures. Doug led the way through the interchange between US89 and I40, which would take us to I17 and south to Phoenix.

0802, Sept. 3 (Munds Park, Arizona, 25639.5 km)

Stopped for a quick gas and go, then pushed on to Camp Verde for second breakfast.

After Camp Verde, the land started to go down again, and we wound our way down out of the mountains and into the valley, where the temperature started to climb, and I really started to feel uncomfortable. As we got into Phoenix, Doug waved goodbye and peeled off to his exit towards home, leaving me to navigate the rest of the way through to the end on my own. I was feeling the heat by this time, and starting to question why I was doing this. The traffic in Phoenix, and the sheer size of the highway (8 lanes each direction with heavily banked curves) was starting to take it’s toll on my, and really weighed heavily on my mind.

As I finally navigated my way onto I10 towards Tucson, I rolled into a Flying J for what I hoped would be my last fuel stop before Mexico.

1133, Sept. 3 (Phoenix, Arizona, 25868.0 km)

The heat, lack of sleep, and the sheer stupidity of Arizona’s ‘prepay for fuel’ setup was really getting to me, and I was extremely pissed off at the clerks in the truck stop. I’m on a motorcycle for cryin’ out loud. How the hell am I supposed to know exactly how much fuel it’s going to take? Somewhere between 4 and 5 gallons I think. After I left my entire wallet with them, they were finally nice enough to turn the pump on for me so that I could fuel up. I also bought a gallon jug of cold water and a 32oz Powerade while I was at it. Used the water to refill my hydration pack and soak down my t-shirt and bandanna, while I guzzled a good portion of the Powerade and had a smoke. Finally got my "O Ring" out of there and back onto I10, thinking that I wasn’t far from Tucson and the last stretch to the finish.

Shortly after I saw the sign saying that it was 92 miles to Tucson, I started to have a complete breakdown while I rolled along. The oppressive heat was sapping my energy and the lack of sleep was starting to make me loopy. As I rolled along, the only thing that I could think about was how much I just wanted to be home with my girlfriend and away from there. The fact that I still had to ride back through what I was experiencing to get home just made things worse. For the first time during the whole ordeal, I seriously thought about just giving up and quitting the ride, to the extent that I had tears streaming down inside my helmet. I remember Steve Broadhead telling me about a similar experience he had during one of his rides. I now know how you felt Steve.

As I continued to roll along though, I remembered that I had other people waiting for me in Nogales, and I couldn’t let them down. I also remembered a message that my girlfriend had left on my voicemail, telling me that she had faith in me and she knew that I could make it. This gave me the will the keep going, and I gritted my teeth, continued to sip the (now lukewarm) water from my drinking tube and pushed on to the end. As I came to the junction of I10 and I19, I saw one of the most welcome sights that I had ever seen – a sign telling me that all distances were in kilometers from that point on. Looking at the mileage to Nogales, and the time remaining on my countdown timer, I knew I was going to make it. I was on the home stretch, and still had a couple hours of leeway.

1422, Sept. 3 (Green Valley, Arizona, 26062.7 km)

Stopped at the Texaco to top up the bike and put my rain gear on, as I was starting to get rained on. I was both annoyed and overjoyed. Annoyed, as the rain was going to slow me down a little bit, but overjoyed because the storm was also dropping the air temperature down to a much more tolerable 20C. I was finally comfortable for the first time since I had left Flagstaff.

After gassing up the bike and making sure the stuff I didn’t want to get wet was safely tucked away, I headed off into the now slacking off rain. A couple miles down the road, and the rain quit altogether. Having a full tank of gas and only slightly damp pavement, I was no longer concerned about conserving fuel, and wicked the bike up to a blistering 80mph for the last stretch.

As I got into Nogales Arizona and made the turn to enter Mexico, I was at the go/no-go point of the trip. The next few minutes would make or break my trip. If Mexican Customs let me in, I was home free. If they refused me entry, I was hosed. I rolled up to the entry lane and waited for the light to go green so that I could move forward. One of the officials waved me into the line and I came to the Red Light/Green Light station. If the light turned green, I was free to enter Mexico, no questions asked. If the light turned red, I would have to pull over to the side and produce my paperwork and go through the whole customs rigamarole. I sat on the bike and patiently waited for the computer to make its decision.

Green.

Restraining myself from cheering, I snicked the bike into gear and rolled into Mexico. I had done it.

After aimlessly riding around in the chaos for a few minutes, I finally managed to snag a guide who took me to a secure underground parking lot. I locked up the bike, took a couple pictures to ensure nothing went missing while I was gone, and explained what I needed. My guide took me a couple blocks down to a jewelry shop for my first purchase in Mexico and my finish receipt. Once I had that done, I was finally able to relax. My goal had been reached, and everything after that was pure cake.
1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
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Gadjet
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#24 Unread post by Gadjet »

1530, Sept. 3 (Nogales, Mexico, 26143 km)

Bought some jewelry and some leather (which I know I paid way too much for. I didn’t care), then headed back to the bike and loaded up my spoils. After bidding my guide goodbye, I headed deeper into the city to get myself turned around and into the exit lane back to the U.S. and my finish witness waiting for me.

Sitting in the line waiting to leave Mexico, I called Duane and let him know where I was and that I would be meeting up with him shortly. Snapped a couple pics while I was in the line.

Image
Image

Also bought a small Mexican flag from a vendor while I was in the exit line (which now adorns my bedroom wall). Rolled up to the U.S. Customs booth, declared my purchases, and was allowed to roll off back into Arizona. After about a half hour of meandering around Nogales (Arizona) I finally found the Burger King where I was meeting Duane and got my finish paperwork done, as well as grabbed a bite to eat.

35 grueling hours, but I had finally done it.

After having a bite to eat, I called my girlfriend to let her know that I had made it, then called my parents to give them the good news as well. Fatigue started to set in, so I packed my precious paperwork on the bike, then headed off to the outskirts of Nogales and the Motel 6 where I grabbed a room for the night. I spent the first couple hours reorganizing all of my belongings, packing away things that I knew I wasn’t going to need again for the trip home, and getting things I might need a little more accessible.

Finally, after about 40hrs with no sleep, enduring some of the worst temperatures I have ever ridden in, I finally crawled under the covers and switched off the light.

Alarm clock?

Not on your life.

I wasn’t going to get up until my body decided it had had enough of sleep.



The End (for now)

Owen Clark
1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
2005 Kawasaki KLR 650 (sold)
2020 KTM 200 Duke
IBA#20953
IG: @greenmanwc

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#25 Unread post by Nalian »

Very intense!! Congratulations on making it. :)

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#26 Unread post by KarateChick »

Hey Owen. Congrats on getting through that and glad you are back home safe. Great write-up! Any more pics? although I guess it would be tough to take many since you had such a tight schedule to keep.
Ya right, :wink: there are only 2 kinds of bikes: It's a Ninja... look that one's a Harley... oh there's a Ninja... Harley...Ninja...

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#27 Unread post by Gadjet »

Thanks Betty. I do have more pics, as I took a whole bunch on my way home. Click on the 'my pics' link in my sig below, and then click the pics in the following order to get to the appropriate gallery:

Sorta NAR
Motorcycle Pics
The Chronicles of Buzz the Biker Sheep
There and Back Again

I finally got Part 2 written up, and I'll try to get it posted up here tonight. If you can't wait for that though, you can always check it out on my MSN Space, accessible through Messenger.

Owen
1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
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2020 KTM 200 Duke
IBA#20953
IG: @greenmanwc

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Gadjet
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#28 Unread post by Gadjet »

There and Back Again

Part 2: The Journey Home



When last we left our intrepid adventurer, he had lain down for some much needed sleep. We now resume our tale the next morning.



~0800, Sept. 4 (just outside Nogales, Arizona)



Damn, 10 hrs of good solid sleep on a nice comfortable bed was just what I needed to recover from the previous two days of riding. Amazingly enough, I knew I was ready to swing my leg over the bike and get back riding again. No hesitation whatsoever. So I crawled my "O Ring" out of bed and hit the shower, having already set out what I was going to wear that day the night before while I was re-packing all my crap. My spirit felt much lighter, as I was no longer on a deadline and I could afford to just take it easy, stop when I wanted to, take whatever pictures I wanted to without having to worry about being in a certain place by a certain time.



Granted, I only had about 6 days to get home, but that’s lot’s of time for someone like me, especially knowing that if I needed to, I could always push a little harder from wherever I was and stop later in the evening in order to make up time.



After loading up the bike, I checked out of the motel and headed back onto I19 and north towards Tucson. I had been hoping to meet up with Gabe, another KLR rider in Tucson, but we never did manage to connect person to person, instead playing phone tag with voicemail for a while.



Stopped to take a couple pictures along the way, and there was definitely one place I knew that I had to stop at, having seen the signs on the way down – The Titan Missile Museum in Sahuarita. This is the last remaining intact Titan II missile silo in the United States, and it has been turned into a museum. They run tours through the place, and if you are there at the right time, you might even be able to get the full tour top to bottom of the entire complex, from the silo itself (complete with intact Titan II) to the Complex Control Room and Crew Quarters.



http://www.mindsvirge.com/whytegryphon/ ... 4/HPIM0690

http://www.mindsvirge.com/whytegryphon/ ... 4/HPIM0691

http://www.mindsvirge.com/whytegryphon/ ... 4/HPIM0693

http://www.mindsvirge.com/whytegryphon/ ... 4/HPIM0695

http://www.mindsvirge.com/whytegryphon/ ... 4/HPIM0696



After spending some time at the museum, I picked up a couple souvenirs and snapped a couple pictures, then hit the road again. I still hadn’t had any breakfast yet, and was planning to stop in Tucson for that before heading further on, taking a couple secondary highways instead of the hell that is I10. This time I wanted to bypass Phoenix completely and take something a little more scenic.



Snapped a couple more pics on the way, had breakfast at the Burger King just off I19 in Tucson, then, with the help of a young woman from Phoenix, got directions to US77 to take me north to Oracle Junction, where I would pick up US79 to Florence Junction, then on to Apache Junction just on the eastern outskirts of Phoenix. I hoped to meet up with yet another KLR rider there, Perry, with the hopes that he could join me for the run up US87 to Payson and a meeting with John (yes, yet another KLR rider)



US77 was a pretty nice road, very scenic with light traffic. Thinking I could get gas between Oracle Junction and Florence, I passed up on the pumps at O.J. and continued on up US79. I couldn’t believe just how desolate the area was, not in the way of no life, as there was certainly an abundance of plant and animal life along the way, just in that there really wasn’t much of anything out there. Lots of plant life, but not really anything over about 2 – 3 feet tall. A lot of fencing though, and the occasional sign that ‘something’ was being done out there, like a partially cleared area with a couple pieces of machinery sitting there, maybe a low rock wall half completed. Then I would come across what looked like a retirement community, low bungalows or trailers spaced widely apart amongst the scrub and rock, miles from anything resembling civilization.



Not finding any fuel along the way, I kept my speed low to ensure that I wouldn’t run out. Running out of fuel in the middle of that……wasteland… does not exactly top my list of fun things to do.



Florence was an interesting place, dominated primarily by a prison on one end of town and a National Guard Reserve on the other. Filled up the tank, then continued on to Apache Junction. Hung out there for awhile while I tried to get a hold of Perry (to no avail), then decided to push on to Payson to see if John was around.



As I climbed further into the mountains on US87, the scenery got much better, and the road got twistier. Woohoo! Stopped for a breather at a rest stop at the intersection of US87 and SR188, about 16 miles south of Payson. It was quite warm there, pushing maybe 28C, but I could see that further to the north there was some serious cloud cover and maybe some rain as well. Oh well, I could live with that. It was nice to be out of the desert for a change. Hitting the road again, I cruised on down the slab, passing through a town called Rye where I saw what looked like a pretty good motorcycle wrecker. I’ll have to get back there someday to check it out.



Just outside of Payson, I ran into the rain, so I quickly pulled the bike over and hopped into my rain gear, then zipped the last couple miles into town to take shelter at the local Sonic. Wound up chatting with a couple guys from Phoenix who were riding Ninja 250’s. They had passed me earlier in the day, and they were doing the same thing I was – grabbing a bite to eat while taking shelter from the rain.



After the rain stopped, they headed out to go back home, and I gave John a call to see if he was around. If he was, I’d spend some time visiting with him, and if he wasn’t then I would push on to Flagstaff or points beyond. I got lucky though, and he was home, so he came down to meet me at the Sonic and I followed him back to his place. We had a bite to eat and chatted bikes and other things into the night, till we were both to tired to stay up. I crashed in his spare room, then got up to fresh coffee and breakfast in the morning. Good cooking John, thanks.



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1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
2005 Kawasaki KLR 650 (sold)
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Gadjet
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#29 Unread post by Gadjet »

Day 2 (Tuesday, Sept. 5)



After breakfast, I headed out to do some more maintenance on the bike and get her loaded up for the next days ride. I wanted to get at least as far as Page that day. I had been planning to swing by the Grand Canyon, but after John told me that it was $20 just to get in, I decided to pass on that. I wasn’t about to spend that kind of money to go look at a big hole in the ground.

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After saying goodbye to John, and thanking him for everything that he had done for me, I rode away. Taking his advice, I headed north on US260 to Clint’s Well, where I turned off onto the 487 which would take me past Mormon Lake and Lake Mary on the way to Flagstaff. What an absolutely beautiful road, and one which I would heartily recommend to anyone planning on riding in that area of Arizona.



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After fuelling up in Flagstaff, I hopped on to I40 for a quick run up to US89 and onwards to Page. In some respects, I wasn’t really looking forward to traveling through the Reservation Lands again, as I knew it was going to be hot, but I had few options to get to Utah and points beyond. That damn Canyon really takes up a lot of real estate and you are stuck going through desert on both ends of it. I did want to see the bluffs of the Kaibito Plateau again though, as my first pass by them early Sunday morning showed them to be a marvelous sight. Rolling through the Coconino National Forest was always good to ease the mind and spirit anyway, with the scent of Pinyon Pine heavy in the air. After stopping for a smoke and a cold drink of Powerade in Gray Mountain, I wound up talking to a gentleman who had a motorcycle repair business in Escalante Utah. He was on his way home after delivering a customer’s bike to Phoenix, and before he left he gave me his card and invited me to stop in if I was in the area for a chat and a beer. One of these days I’m going to do just that, but it wasn’t to be on this trip. Heading out of Gray Mountain, I picked up the slab again and headed north through the rising temperatures into the heart of the wasteland.



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Miles of rock and sand in all directions, interspersed with low scrubby bushes and no visible water anywhere. How anyone could eke out a living in this desolate area is beyond me, and I have a great amount of respect and admiration for those that do. By early afternoon, I had reached the foot of the Kaibito Plateau and the road began its ascent up the twisty path to the top and Page just a few miles beyond.



Stopping at a rest stop/parking area near the summit of the ascent, I pulled off to admire the view and check out the wares that several native women had on display. Every piece of jewelry and pottery that these half dozen women had arrayed on their tables was an incredible work of art, and had my budget allowed it, I would have gladly purchased something from each of them. Looking South and West from this vantage point, I could see where Marble Canyon cut its way through the rock and sand to eventually join up with the Grand Canyon approximately 20 – 25 miles away. I could almost see the rim of the canyon through the heat haze. After killing about an hour here, sweltering in the heat, admiring the view, and talking with other travelers, I decided it was past time for lunch, so I headed off into Page and the local McD’s.



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For the record, I never want to see that particular McDonald’s parking lot again; there is not a single level parking space there, and my only option for parking was to point the bike uphill towards the door and actually leave the bike in gear so that it wouldn’t roll backwards down the parking lot, sidestand or no sidestand. I did, however, enjoy the air conditioning that they had, and my typical fare from their dollar menu – double cheeseburger and two apple pies, supplemented with –real- iced tea. This surprised me, as usually every fast food place that I have been to has had the fake sweet stuff, but this actually tasted like cold, unsweetened tea and was a very refreshing change.



After lunch, I headed off to cross over the Glen Canyon Dam for the second time, only this time I would actually be able to see just how far above the river I really was. Given that I’m not a real big fan of heights, this was more than a little scary for me, but I just focused my attention on the other end of the bridge and motored across. Of course, I’m also a little bit of a crazy, so I had to stop by the visitor center on the other side and take a few pictures. It’s very sobering to look a couple hundred feet down and see the dam with Lake Powel on one side, and not be able to see the river coming out the other side of it.



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Continuing on down US89, I crossed into Utah and admired the scenery around me. It was still fairly barren, but there was more plantlife here in the highlands than I had seen down in the valley in Arizona. Stopping at a rest stop/historical marker, I took the opportunity to park the bike in the shade provided by an older couple’s motorhome and have another drink of Powerade. Reading the information post, I found that just on the other side of the fence was the site of an early 1800’s Mormon town, called Pariah. I talked with one of the older travelers there about the landscape and how it was remarkable that anyone would want to build a town in such a remote area that seemed to offer so little. He quite accurately commented though that people were a lot tougher and hardier in those days than they are now, and I can’t help but agree. Nowadays, we can’t seem to live without our air conditioning, central heating, indoor plumbing, cable tv, what have you, but back in the pioneer days, they had none of those amenities and still managed to survive and prosper.



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Hitting the road again, I cruised into Kanab for gas and a quick bite, before deciding how far I was going to continue that day. It was still relatively early, only about 5pm or so, and I wasn’t really in the mood to stop, so I continued on up US 89 to a rest stop just outside of Glendale, where I ran into ‘The Desert Doctor’ once again (this was the guy with the motorcycle repair business in Escalante, who I had last seen about 6 hours earlier in Gray Mountain). He was taking a quick break before heading off on his last stretch toward home, and I was putting on my cool weather gear and having a smoke before I headed off to finish my day in Panguich, where I managed to find a motel room for only $30 (The Bryce Canyon Motel) and called it a day. I lucked out and arrived in time to catch that week’s episode of Rockstar:Supernova and enjoy some really good rock and roll.
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#30 Unread post by Gadjet »

Day 3 (Wednesday, Sept. 6)



Woke up early, sans alarm clock, as I had done the last couple days, and decided to repeat my routine of checking out, then riding for a few hours before grabbing some breakfast somewhere. After leaving Panguich, I stopped at a rest stop between Marysvale and Sevier for a couple pictures, then headed on to breakfast in Sevier. After a good cup of coffee and a Croissanwich at the local Burger King, I continued on up the 89 to Salina, then hopped on the 256 up to Gunnison. I had to choice to make here, whether to get back on the 89 and continue up through the mountains to where it came out by Salt Lake City, or get on the 28 and take it back to I15 just outside of Nephi. Looking at my maps and my budget, I decided that I wanted to make some good time today and get back on the slab, so onto the 28 I went. As I got closer to I15 and started coming out of the mountains, the temperature began to climb again, and this just inspired me to put as much distance on as I could, and hopefully make it at least into Idaho before I stopped for the day.



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Somewhere between Salt Lake City and the Utah/Idaho border, I had a yellow Triumph Daytona come up behind me, and as he passed me and gave me a thumbs up, I noticed the Alberta plate on the back. Someone else heading home. Utah went by in a fairly quick blur, and even the extensive construction work taking place on I15 didn’t really slow me down that much. Before I knew it I was crossing into Idaho and rain was threatening. As I felt the first drops start to hit, I quickly pulled over and threw on my rain gear, then roared off again, tucking my chin down onto the top of my tank bag to keep as much rain out of my face as I could. This was one of the rare times in my travels that I wished I had my full face helmet. Within only a couple minutes though, I came out of the rain and it started to heat up again, so I pulled into a rest stop to take off my extra gear.



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Naturally, within a few miles of leaving the rest stop, I ran into a spurt of rain again, so once again I donned my rain gear on the side of the road before continuing on. This time though, I decided to keep my rain gear on until I hit Idaho Falls and my second meal stop of the day. While sitting in the McD’s parking lot sipping my coffee, I decided to adjust my chain again and lube it, as it was really starting to show signs of serious stretching.



Maintenance done, I headed off again, and somewhere between Idaho Falls and Camas, I saw a familiar yellow bike come up behind me again – the Alberta Daytona. Pulling over to the side of the interstate, we chatted for a bit about our bikes and our travels, where we were coming from and where we were going to. We both had the same end destination in mind for that day – Butte Montana – so we agreed to ride together and split the cost of a hotel room there. After a few miles though, Alex rode away, being much more comfortable cruising at a higher speed than me. I figured that I would see him somewhere down the road, and I was right. As it got dark, and the road started to climb into the mountains of southern Montana, the temperature dropped. I came upon Alex waiting at the exit to Dillon Montana. It was getting too cold for him, and there was a sign for a Super 8, so we agreed to head in there and grab a room, then some food and maybe a couple beers.



Which of course, is exactly what we did, although it did take us a bit of time to find a decent bar. If you like a darker beer, and it’s available where you live, I highly recommend Big Hole Diablo. Very nice.



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1983 Suzuki GS650GL (sold)
2005 Kawasaki KLR 650 (sold)
2020 KTM 200 Duke
IBA#20953
IG: @greenmanwc

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