In Oct. ‘09, we set off on a weeklong motorcycle trip thru Vegas, Zion, Bryce Canyon on Honda ST1300's. In ‘10, we trekked thru Yosemite on KTM 990's. In ‘11, we rode thru torrential rains in Quebec on our own BMW’s. In '12, we rented BMW R1200GS and 650GS' and headed into the Colorado Rockies. In April, '13 we explored the Grand Canyon, Capital Reef and Monument Nat'l Valley on 1200GS's. In Sept '13, we will take 800GS' and 1200GS' to the Grand Tetons, Yellowstone and beyond.
It's 5 a.m., Sunday, March 31st. I'm sitting in the lobby of the Kingman, Arizona Quality Inn
. Breakfast starts at 6:30. Tina, the desk attendant, thankfully has already made the coffee. I'm on my second cup. Against her bosses orders, she has allowed me to have a banana before the dining room opens. Tina's customer-first attitude is greatly appreciated. She is the best.
Tina is a middle aged woman, who, after spending her entire life in Salt Lake City, just relocated to Kingman. Like LouAnn, the attendant from last night, she is struggling to make her rent payments. Arizona is still economically depressed. "Space for Lease" signs litter the windows downtown. I'm amazed how how resilient and spirited Tina and LouAnn are. They say they are biding their time and that good times are around the corner. May they be especially blessed on this Easter Sunday.
Arizona, Tina tells me, does not recognize Daylight Savings Time. It messes her up when she's watching tv. For the next six months she is on California time and has to watch the news an hour earlier. Life has its inconveniences. Tina just told me about a spot on the hill to watch the sunrise. I'm there...
I just returned from seeing the sunrise. Gorgeous. I wish Margot and the kids were here to see it too. Just as the sun began to peak over the mountains, a train emerged from the pass just in front of me (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWupJPoOc1M ). Im told that trains rumble through this town every 30 minutes or so. The trains are extraordinary; tractor trailers, many double-stacked, rolling on for as long as the eye can see. Last night, as I waited at the local Mexican restaurant for a Eric who was making a KMart run, I asked the waitress where the trains were going. The young server, maybe seven months pregnant, emptily responded, "I have no idea". It could have been mars as far as she was concerned. Wherever it was going, whatever it was carrying, she had no dreams of ever enjoying them. She would benefit from some time with Tina and LouAnn.
We didn't ride for as much as we had hoped yesterday, 130 miles tops. We had a slow morning. We got up early, 7 a.m., and went to the fitness center. We figured on a Saturday morning at a Vegas hotel that we would have the place to ourselves. No such luck. Dozens of people riding stationary bikes and elipticals, lifting weights, stretching, etc. We stayed for 30 minutes or so trying to get our blood going and hopefully burning a few calories. Eric has impressively lost 10 pounds in the last month and hopes to lose more. Maybe I can learn a few things from him.
Last week I started a new physical therapy regiment at the NE Baptist Spine Center. I should have waited until after the trip; lots of discomfort and stiffness over the past few days. Eric has been helping me tie my boots
and thankfully, I have a low suspension bike that allows me to easily get my leg up and over chassis.
Speaking of bikes, we both have brand new 2012 dual-sport BMW R1200GS's. Best bike I have ever ridden; 500 pounds, 105 horsepower, ABS brakes, heated grips and much more. Riding on the freeways, even in the gusty winds, feels much more comfortable.
After spending a couple of hours at the dealer, getting directions, signing paperwork, getting dressed and packing we set off on highway 215 towards Boulder City and Hoover Dam. The sky's were clear and the temperatures in the low 80's. Beautiful. We got to Hoover Dam about an hour later. Surprisingly, the tourist traffic was heavy. To get past security and to park our bikes took nearly another hour. By then the temperatures had climbed to near 90. That can be tough when you are in all of that bike gear and you're not moving.
The dam itself was stunning. As impressive an engineering marvel as you will ever see. We opted out of a tour but stayed long enough to soak in the awe-inspiring site.
We plan to make it to the Grand Canyon by mid afternoon. I can't wait.
Some words from Eric; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUzIabXqr74
Later.
G.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. OMG! Eric arrived in Vegas late, way past my bedtime (he came from Denver where he and Celia have been for the last month). Yet, he was "starving" so I sucked it up and went out in search of his dinner. The streets were packed, shoulder-to-shoulder. There were birthday celebrators, wedding elopers, bachelors party attendees, March Madness watchers, end of Lent recognizers and general crazies. I commented on how much fun everyone was having and how generally happy they seemed. Eric let loose, shrieking at me about decadence, exploitation, waste and the low life population amongst us. I took a deep breath... It was an evening of Light, it was the evening of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair." It's good to see Eric again. It really is.
I had an easy flight from Boston. Margot dropped me off at Logan at 6:45 a.m. and I waited a couple of hours for my shuttle to Newark. It was worth the early arrival. There were no lines and I was able to sweet talk the attendant into giving me a bulkhead seat for the second leg to Vegas without having to pay the upgrade fee. Thank goodness. A seat in the back of a full 727 for five hours would have really sucked.
Across the isle on the Newark to Vegas leg, three women, probably in their late thirties (see photo.
), were readying for a big girl's weekend away. Moments after takeoff they ordered their first of many Bloody Mary's. Pace yourself girls. It's going to be a long three days.
With their loud abrasive New York accents, they discussed their plans for the weekend. Def Leppard (can you believe they still exist), playing at the Hard Rock, was the centerpiece of their plans. Apparently this is some one time special event for Def's most "special fans". Whatever.
Beyond the concert, there were plenty of other things on their docket. They spent a lot of time reviewing their rules of engagement for the weekend; be each other's wingman; no one was to leave a club with a strange guy. Also, don't let your drink out of your sight. If you're suspicious, don't drink it. "When in in doubt, throw it out". Be sure to tri-text, so we can be in contact as a team. Keep your antennae high. There a lot of creeps out there. The bad ones tend to be by themselves. Lean towards guys that are with friends." All good advice. I was impressed.
I killed some time on the plane by watching "Life of Pi". Heart warming. Terrific special effects. Two hours well spent.
The flight arrived 20 minutes early. Yay. After being taken on a long detour by the cab driver (his English seemed to get a lot worse when I protested), I checked into Treasure Island, me and a hundred others. Because of the long wait, The desk clerk said he was giving me a "Deluxe" room. I think "deluxe" is the new "No frills". It was ordinary at best. Oh we'll, at least there were two beds and a ceiling.
I went down and and hung out by the pool for an hour (see video. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVUcMvd_R0g ). It wasn't a place for solitude and a new paperback. It was fun nonetheless. There is no place like Vegas.
I had dinner and then watched most of the Michigan - Kansas game at the Vanitian. With three minutes left and Kansas leading by 13, I decided to head to Caesars Palace to catch the Duke game. When I arrived, Kansas had blown its lead. The game was heading into overtime. What? Are you serious? The overtime was a thriller (see video. http://youtu.be/htPGgXB4t-0 ). March Madness at its best. I can't believe Michigan won! Brian, that one was for you. By the way Brian, I have my "Heaven can wait" T-shirt with me. I'll take a picture with it at some cool place and post it on your Facebook
We pick up the bikes late morning. I think we will head to Hoover Dam and then towards Flagstaff. I'm not sure we will make it the whole way. It doesn't matter. We're going to take it slow, exploring some off road trails and probably do a little hiking. I can't wait to get going. I've been looking forward to this for quite awhile.
Over and out.
George
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Buena Vista, 4.45 am outside the Topaz Motel. ( I lasted about 5 minutes; it was 40 degrees.
I did not do a blog entry last night for various reasons and I woke up early wanting to write. Several years ago, I started writing almost every day and then I got lazy and basically stopped. One of the realizations that I have during these trips is how important it is to write and I am going to makes renewed commitment. And to make some other changes in areas that I know I am capable of.
I am not sure why these trips provide an opportunity for reflection, but they do. Perhaps it is because of my time with George. We are both "candid" with each other about each other. Perhaps it is because of the Intense focus necessary to ride a motorcycle safely. There is a decided meditative quality when you ride. That may sound bizarre given the loudness of the machines and the speeds they travel; this would appear to be the antithesis of spending a week at a retreat at a spiritual center, but in many ways it is not. In both settings it is possible (and necessary) to rid your mind of the the thoughts that are so often destructive. Your mind becomes more quiet during theses rides and that brings about a healthy dose of awareness.
George will think this is all a bunch of hogwash.
We started yesterday in Crested Butte, a mining town turned ski resort and watering hole for the one percent. We had a great time and healthy discussions about Lance Armstrong who was there for a bike race. But it is not the type of town we wanted to spend a lot of time in, so we got on the machines and took off. There had been a disagreement about the route (not uncommon). The previous day I had wanted to take a longer and more ambitious adventure; the next day I felt that I had taken too strident a position ("George, I am NOT going on route 50"), and apologized. George then said that he wanted to go the longer way.
We headed off over a 30 mile dirt road to take the shortest route to Aspen. Unlike the other "dirt" we have enjoyed, we did not have the place to ourselves and it was filled with dust and other cars. We had another brief encounter with cattle blocking the road ( the larger ones stare menacingly at you when you are near the calves).
We then headed east on a two lane road along the Gunnison canyon and eventually over to Aspen. We stayed about half an hour after briefly taking in the usual wine festival and international rugby tournament. As noted, these towns are not for me unless they have a foot of powder.
We went over Independence pass at 12 thousand feet, going up and down the most narrow twisting roads of the trip. Great fun. I usually go first, updating George on hairpin turns and oncoming traffic, but I must say that he is now so Incredibly competent on his bike that he does not need much help. He is irrationally still scared of interstate highways, but on challenging back roads his improvement has been amazing. And by amazing, I don't mean excessively fast; he really knows how to handle the bike now. In the past, it seemed at times he was fighting it and sometimes struggling with the machine. He was safe because he went so slow and would stop constantly to let other cars past; no longer. There is no doubt that this "sport" is dangerous, but George is now incredibly competent and shows good judgment. I am proud of him.
We stopped in Twin Lakes, a very small town dominated by two 14 thousand twin peaks (yes there are also two lakes of very different sizes so I am not sure why they call it Twin Lakes). This is one of my favorite places in Colorado. I realized that this is now my fifth trip to Colorado in the past year and I love it more each time.
I am sure that George has already described our great night in Buena Vista and the Kelsey Hunt concert which I had earlier made emphatically clear I would not attend. She brought the house ( maybe 50 people) down; the next day she was off to play in front of ten thousand in a sold out concert (with other artists) in Telluride. I bought an autographed CD (for Celia),
I realize that we had too many long days on the bikes, not enough rest, and did no hiking. That should change in the future. Going off road was fantastic but I am returning home with many aching bones and feeling pretty tired. A fantastic trip, an ever evolving relationship with George, but we should change some things in the future.
It's been almost two weeks since I have seen Celia because she went away with some friends to one of the "Thousand Islands" on the St. Lawrence. I have really missed her.
-Eric
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On Saturday we got a late start so that we could watch the Alpine Odyssey 100 K in Crested Butte. The town was buzzing Friday night that Lance Armstrong would be racing. I knew from reading his biography that he would show up one minute before race time and go right to the front of the pack. So, I positioned myself accordingly. Not to disappoint, he arrived exactly as the PA announcer declared "60 seconds to start time".
Fame has its privileges.
Around 11 a.m. we departed Crested Butte and headed to Kebler Pass Road.
This is a beautiful forest road that connects highway 135 with Paonia Reservoir and highway 133. It was an easy drive, suitable for any vehicles. If you have your own car and like aspens, mountains, and lots of photos ops, take this road. The next time you are in town. You won't be disappointed.
We stopped for lunch at a Subway in Carbondale. I had a vegetarian sub, six inches. Tastes just like back home. Yum!
From Carbondale we headed east for about 45 miles and stopped in Aspen.
It was cool to arrive in the middle of a huge rugby torunament. Lots of beer tents, music, and big hulking guys who were ready to do battle.
Unfortunately, aI could not convince Eric to stick around and watch. I couldn't help but recall my short career playing in college. I broke my nose in the fourth game. I went to the hospital where they reset it by wrapping gauze around some forceps, sticking it my nose and jerking it back into place. As unpleasant an experience as I can ever remember.
Aspen itself was disappointing. Lots of upscale restaurants and shops. Like Crested Butte, it didn't have any of the authenticity of the mining towns like Silverton and Ouray.
East of Aspen, we steadily climbed Highway 82 next to the Roaring Fork River towards the Sawatch Range and reached a high point of 12K plus feet at Independence Pass,
then descended into the even more beautiful valley of Lake Creek, eventually joining US 24 approx. fifteen miles south of Leadville. The scenery at the pass and all along the 44 mile route was some of the most spectacular we've seen. The road ran right beneath many great mountains including the highest in the state (14K plus foot Mount Elbert), and rose well above the treeline into the stark Alpine tundra zone, while also passing lakes, rivers, steep-sided valleys, thick forests of fir and extensive aspen groves. This time of year the yellowing leaves made the landscape incredibly colorful and photogenic.
From Lake Creek
we booked it to Buena Vista. We were pretty wiped out but needed to get within striking distance of Denver so that we could finish the trip by 11 a.m. this morning. We had a decent meal at a local Asian restaurant. It seems you can now call a Chinese restaurant an Asian restaurant and charge twice as much. Afterwards, we went into the local "theatre" to watch/listen to some blues music. We were told that the lead act, Kelley Hunt,
was a national star. We hadn't heard of her but she sure played like she was. The concert was a fundraiser for the local library. We felt good about paying the $25. The good music was a bonus.
We are now in the airport waiting for our flight. Goskowski just missed a 40 yd. kick at the end of the game. Pats lose. Ouch.
A wonderful trip. A big thank you to Bill Smith, the bike store (Colorado Tourbike Rentals) owner who rented us the BMW's. A great guy and great bikes. And of course, thank you Eric for the exhausting, but exhilarating ride.
That's it for now. Thanks for following.
Until next year....
- George
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Saturday morning
We're having breakfast at the Grand Lodge Buffett in Crested Butte, the first upscale hotel we've stayed at. The bill reflects it. Check it out.
There are two sales taxes, a lodging tax, a town center tax and a resort fee. Give me a break.
I'm not wild about this kind of town. It's far from the genuine mining towns we've been at the past few nights. It caters to the wealthy skiing crowd. Downtown, an artificial strip where we ate last night, looks much Breckenridge, or Telluride. Not my cup of tea. The pizza; sausage and jalopena was good as was the Czar Imperial Stout. I nursed the stout slowly as Eric and I argued about which route to take today. It's our last full day or riding and we are trying to balance beauty vs arrival time near Denver. Beauty won out. It will be a long, but surely panoramic trip today.
Yesterday started auspiciously but ended up being what I thought was the best ride yet. Shortly after leaving Silverton, about five miles down the steep windy switchback towards Ohrey, we encountered a group of bikers on the side of the road tending to one of its own. The large man was on the ground next to his Harley Fat Boy. He seem to shaken, but ok. At lest we hope so. We think the tight turns had someone traveling in the opposite direction come into his lane and cut him off. Thankfully he went down on the mountain side. Going off the road on the open side would have been a whole different story. The biker down was a another reminder for us to remain diligent. We have been very cautious, continually minding ourselves through the intercoms to remain focused.
Outside of Ridgeway we turned off on Owl Creek Pass Road, a 40 mile beautiful pass through forest and pastoral landscapes.
What made it so compelling was the fact that the is particularly aspens are turning. Brilliant yellows everywhere. Great views of high and jagged Cimarron Ridge, the 12,152-foot monolith of Courthouse Mountain and 11,781-foot Chimney Rock. Owl Creek Pass is 10,114 feet.
We encountered a few hunting vehicles along the way but otherwise had the road to ourselves. One of Eric's suitcases fell off along the way. That took about a hour to repair and reattach. Other than that little mishap, the trip was a dream cruise that I hope to repeat some day in the future.
After a late lunch in Gunnison we leisurely headed up the final 30 miles to Crested Butte.
The BMW's have treated us well. If you are interested in seeing and hearing more about them, below is a little tutorial from Eric....
We are in Silverton, a classic old western town, widely known as one of the coldest places in the country. Elevation 9500 feet.
For reasons that are difficult, in retrospect, to understand we decided to tackle the Alpine Loop, a sixty mile rock and dirt horror story, but stupefying beautiful. After visiting a ghost town.
, we headed up the trail to Engineer Pass at 12k feet. Only I headed on the impassable road to Ouray and was almost immediately in serious trouble. Thanks to George, we were able to turn the bike around but my zeal to conquer 15 percent rock scree was over. We headed back to Silverton, happy to be intact and absolutely awed by the views and surroundings.
I am going to rely on the pictures that
George is going to put on the blog because I am sick of using the word spectacular.
Beside, we had to be back by 4, so George could have access to a wifi signal to watch the rampaging Huskies. I hope that you will have time to watch the video of George sitting on his motorcycle. A pillow at his back, iPad plugged into the accessory socket, watching a tough loss (1-0 on a penalty kick).
So I will let Silverton speak through the videos and pictures that will appear with this blog. Dedicated readers will discern a different editorial direction as I am now taking a more active role in controlling content. So you should also check out the video that describes more about our misadventures
George tried Rocky Mountain Oysters tonight. Look it up if you don't know what it is.
I woke up at 5. Breakfast didn't start til 6:30. I didn't want to wake Eric so I head to the Econolodge lobby to read.
Morning moon over Econolode
Spent an hour talking to the desk clerk. His name is "Bear", appropriately so. Bear is not the most sensitive soul. Here are a few of his pearls of wisdom. - You're going to Silverton on bikes from here??? Much of the way there is no road shoulder and the drop is 2,000 feet. Whatever you do, don't look down. - with all the rain we had yesterday there is sure to be ice and snow up there. - look out for bear and moose. A few bikers were hit by them this summer. - part of my job at night is to chase the bears out if the parking lot. They tend to smell the food in people's vehicles and rooms and sometimes brake the windows to get in.
Bear is a piece of work.
I just saw on CNN that in response to the anti U.S. activities in Yemen and Libya, we are putting some marines on the ground to protect our embassies. My nephew is a marine on the USS Iwo Jima in the area. My prayers to he and his men. Be safe Doug!
