I had just enough time to play with before I had to be to San Francisco to cannonball down to the Phoenix area to visit a friend. The route through Southern California recommended to me by the sparkly helmeted gentleman bound for Alaska was route 395 through the desert. In pants and a leather jacket, it was hot, but the expansive beauty and infinite variance of brown, red, orange, and gold was worth it. I unfortunately had to rush through Arizona after sunset, but the stars and the ghostly apparitions of Saguaro cactus and Joshua trees hinted at it's beauty. This is also the point in my journey were I started becoming lazy about stopping to take photographs, and for that I apologize.
I stayed in Phoenix with my friend and his lovely three Golden Retrievers. My chain was just at the beginning stages of starting to give me grief, so I went to a local motorcycle shop to replace the broken mirror from Yosemite and to grab the necessary chemicals to clean and lube my chain. Besides taking care of those two items, the rest of my time in Phoenix was spent lounging by a pool. It was too hot to do much else.
I stayed in Phoenix with my friend and his lovely three Golden Retrievers. My chain was just at the beginning stages of starting to give me grief, so I went to a local motorcycle shop to replace the broken mirror from Yosemite and to grab the necessary chemicals to clean and lube my chain. Besides taking care of those two items, the rest of my time in Phoenix was spent lounging by a pool. It was too hot to do much else.
At the recommendation of my host, I left before dawn to beat the heat and head for Sedona. He assured me that if I loved Moab, Sedona would be heaven. He directed me to a beautiful back way into the city through the red rocks on Schnelby Hill Road. "I took my mom with hip problems down the road in my SUV no problem! You're bike should handle the dirt road just fine." It took my 4 hours to make it 12 miles from I-17 to Sedona. The only other vehicles I saw on that road were jeeps designed for off-roading. Halfway down it started to pour rain and crash lightning. This did not make dodging wheel sized boulders that covered the road any easier. I think that is where I did the most wear and tear on my steed in one sitting. It was a spectacular view framed by white knuckles.
Upon arrival into Sedona, I stopped to call and let my friend know I was okay. "Your efforts to murder me were valiant, but you misjudged how tenacious I am!" He profusely apologized and swore up and down that the road wasn't that bad when he went down it a few months ago. I no longer had time to explore Sedona, so I grabbed a cup of coffee and some lunch to calm my nerves, and hit the road northward again.
Upon arrival into Sedona, I stopped to call and let my friend know I was okay. "Your efforts to murder me were valiant, but you misjudged how tenacious I am!" He profusely apologized and swore up and down that the road wasn't that bad when he went down it a few months ago. I no longer had time to explore Sedona, so I grabbed a cup of coffee and some lunch to calm my nerves, and hit the road northward again.
The easiest route from Sedona to San Francisco would take me straight through Vegas right at the peak time of the strip. I stopped by the Hoover Dam right after sunset, and it really is a gorgeous feat of human engineering. After the Dam, I thought this would be a great time to cruise the strip and check out what Las Vegas in full swing looked like. Maybe it was because I was hot and cranky, maybe it's because it's a sore spot for those who work in the service industry, but to me the strip looked like one giant flashy orgy of bachelor/ette parties, college students just before the married stage, and people with enough glitter and rhinestones on their clothes to upstage the strip. These folks were peppered with all kinds of people trying to separate them from their every last dollar. It was a strange and dazzling sight.
The most interesting bit of human interaction I had in Nevada happened about an hour north of Vegas on Route 95 at around 3 am. It was the middle of nowhere that for some odd reason had been called Amargosa Valley which some hardy folk had decided to settle enough to put in a gas station. I grabbed gas, and sat at a picnic table to cool off, and noticed the strange buildings behind the gas station. One was Martian green and proudly called the "Area 51 Travel Center," and the other was not so proudly pink and labeled as a pleasure palace. I had been sitting there for a few minutes when blasting out of the pink doors came a grizzled old man smoking a cigarette. It took him a little bit to notice me, but when he did he began walking my direction with speed and purpose. This was some cause for alarm on my part, but I stayed where I was and moved my hand toward my knife in my pocket.
"Where you headed stranger?!"
"Lake Tahoe. Trying to get there while it's still cool."
"Well if you need a place to rest for a while, you can stay in the RV Park across the road. I'm the owner, and you can stay there for free. Us Harley riders need to stick together. You shouldn't be riding all through the night."
He regaled me with more than a few stories of his glory days of riding, and I begged my leave on account of being dead beat tired. He returned to his palace of pleasure, and I crossed the street to try and make myself comfortable enough to sleep on my Honda. This is a futile effort, but some sleep is better than none.
"Where you headed stranger?!"
"Lake Tahoe. Trying to get there while it's still cool."
"Well if you need a place to rest for a while, you can stay in the RV Park across the road. I'm the owner, and you can stay there for free. Us Harley riders need to stick together. You shouldn't be riding all through the night."
He regaled me with more than a few stories of his glory days of riding, and I begged my leave on account of being dead beat tired. He returned to his palace of pleasure, and I crossed the street to try and make myself comfortable enough to sleep on my Honda. This is a futile effort, but some sleep is better than none.
After a few hours of rest, I hit the road again about an hour before sunrise. The desert in the pale light of pre-dawn demands reverence. This breaks the moment the sun crests the ridges and violently turns everything red and gold. It is a beautiful thing to be reminded how small and insignificant one really is alongside such splendor that cares not if it is observed.
It was at this time that the red mud from Schnelby Hill Road had dried enough to start coming off my bike every time I hit a bump or pothole. Good thing I had a full face helmet, jacket, and pants on or that ride would have been much more painful. The real problem with riding a motorcycle through Nevada is gas. I had to be extremely careful because even including my reserve tank, I only get about 130-150 miles per tank. A few of the gas stations were far enough apart to be frightening. I really didn't want to get stranded in the middle of Nevada where the closest thing was an Air Force base 50 miles away.
It was at this time that the red mud from Schnelby Hill Road had dried enough to start coming off my bike every time I hit a bump or pothole. Good thing I had a full face helmet, jacket, and pants on or that ride would have been much more painful. The real problem with riding a motorcycle through Nevada is gas. I had to be extremely careful because even including my reserve tank, I only get about 130-150 miles per tank. A few of the gas stations were far enough apart to be frightening. I really didn't want to get stranded in the middle of Nevada where the closest thing was an Air Force base 50 miles away.
I stopped for a short rest in South Lake Tahoe, and then headed for my Sister's place close to Modesto. It was fun hanging out with her and the boys. I got to cook for them, rough house with the boys, and take them to school. While there my sister let me clean the motorcycle with her precious California water, and I replaced a few of the bolts that had rattled off in the Schnelby Hill adventure. Even though Central California looked like a dustbowl, it still managed to be beautiful. After the short respite, it was on to San Francisco to prepare for the crown jewel of my summer. Burning Man.