Day 9 - 166 miles

Destination: Bryce Canyon Park

I awoke not feeling too well, maybe something I ate last night. I managed to choke down the top of a banana nut muffin and a cup of tea. My roomie, Josh had gotten up at the crack of dawn and hiked up to the top of the canyon ridge. He was sprinting down as we were all packing up for the journey to Cedar City. We were due at 1:00 pm for a BBQ fundraiser hosted by the Utah Shakespeare Festival.

After plowing through more wicked headwinds north on Hwy 89 we turned left on Scenic Route 14, I realized what a dope I was when I put on my mesh gloves by accident at our morning fuel stop. Everyone else was way past me, only the chase car and I stopped to put on the right gloves. Like it would really help. My frigid fingers were stiff.

The temperature dropped as we climbed into the snow covered mountains. My outside air temperature gauge flashed at 36 degrees, warning me of the potential for ice. Hugh drifts of snow dotted the side of the road as we neared 10,000 feet up.

I caught up with the group to ride into Cedar City. There were folks from the Utah Shakes in the street welcoming us to town. After several photographs, we all chowed down on BBQ. Understand, this part of the country BBQ is a verb, not a noun. I tried a slice of the pork shoulder, it tasted great, but after three bites, I came to the realization my tummy was not ready for food. I napped in the lobby of the theatre while everyone got the nickle tour.

A group of small children walking down the street all got kazoos from Moe. They were thrilled. Kazoos are the calling card for the Long Reach Long Riders. They always manage to put a smile on everyone's face.

More headwinds slowed my on I-15 heading north towards Bryce Canyon. What a contrast to the sheer rock cliffs from yesterday. The dark red, wind and water chiseled hoodoos arise from the canyon floor in majestic spires. An easy hike along the rim of the canyon offered several stunning photo ops.

Several deer munch on the side of the road as we leave the park heading towards Ruby's Inn: our destination for the night. It's now a Best Western Hotel, one stop shop, grocery, gas station, drug store, all you can eat buffet, gift shop, camping store, and general tourist destination, but it's still run by the same family that built the first lodge back in the early 1900's.

Dinner, bland by choice, seemed to settle OK.

Todays pix:

Day 8 - 179 miles

Destination: Zion National Park

I somehow missed the word we were not eating breakfast at the Bonnie Springs Ranch. So I got real fast service being the only diner at 8:30 am. Bill blessed our bikes with Holy Water, and we were off. Our first stop was the breakfast buffet at the Red Rock Casino.

Way too long on the 215 freeway around the west side of Vegas finally got us towards our destination. A supposedly quick stop at Zion Harley Davidson turned into an extended stop for lunch on the first day Buffalo's Southwestern was open for business. I think I have visited more Harley Davidson dealerships in the last week than in my entire life. More bits fall off these bikes than you can shake a stick at.

After I finally got my bill from Buffalos paid, we were off. The flattened plateaus of the sandy desert quickly changed to towering cliffs of limestone we neared the park. Some gusty cross winds made all our bikes slither across the freeway.

Once there, we were surrounded by dark red stained sandstone rock faces. A shuttle bus is the only transportation allowed past the Lodge into Zion Canyon. Where the canyon narrows along the Virgin River, a short river walk takes you to the bitter end. Warnings are posted beyond the paved trail to continue at your own risk. Parts of the river bed are literally swamp land due to the water seeping off the face of the cliff, and have the flora and fauna to match.

Wild Columbine and several other wild flowers dot the edge of the trail as it nears the mouth of the canyon pass. A humming bird flew up the face of the cliff, sipping on each wildflower along the way.

Dinner at the Lodge Grill was a welcome treat. Our last two riders, Josh and Scott arrived today from Grand Junction. They ran into snow. We are now 12 bikes, 17 riders, and one chase car.

Todays slideshow:

Day 7 - Meanwhile Back at the Ranch

Today is the day all the rest of the Long Reach Long Riders arrive before we blast off tomorrow on the loop though the canyons. Greg, Matt and I drove to another Harley dealer to get a screw that fell off Matt's Buell. They didn't have one nor would they sell him one off another and replace it later. I'd have gone to Home Depot to begin with...

It was another hot day already when we arrived at the Dam. The tourist traffic we were warned about was abundant today. We turned our engines off and coasted down the hill to the visitor center. Our curmudgeonly tour guide gave us the behind the scenes tour of the facility. All in all a fascinating construction achievement. A commercial vehicle bypass under construction looms over the canyon over the Dam. Yet another engineering feat: I'd like to witness the spans of the bridge being put into place.

Supposedly there's only one body buried in the concrete, despite numerous deaths in the construction of the Dam. It's a dog who was the mascot of the workers. The labrador retreiver was killed when a truck accidently ran over him. The only time the site shut down from it's 24 hours a day schedule was to bury the dog. I'm not sure I buy that story completely.

I split off from the group at the end of the tour and headed back to the ranch to change my oil. I'd shipped myself a couple of liters for the job. I'd spied a new Auto Zone store on the way in, and stopped at the office to ask Michael if he knew if they could rent me a sludge pan and let me recycle the oil there. Michael and his wife kindly offered a coffee can and a cut off water jug for me to change the oil there.

After I finished my oil change, I met another couple who couldn't believe I rode the scooter across the country. Paul and Maggie, in the convention organizing business offered me their hospitality if I was ever in Chicago. He said he could hook me up with a Harley for Sturgis. I figure if I'm going to Sturgis, I'm going on a Vespa.

I got a chance to meet the rest of the riders at the saloon, and get out pre-ride briefing. This looks to be a lot of fun.

A slide show from today:

Day 6 - 187 miles

Destination: Blue Diamond, NV (via the Hoover Dam)

I snagged the breakfast buffet at JB's across the street. It's sort of like a Denny's. It was fast and tasty. The rest of the crew went to the Harley dealer early. Matt picked up a nail sometime last night, and Greg was planning to get a new rear tire out here anyway.

It appeared to be customer appreciation day or something. Free burgers and dogs were slated for 11:00 am. I arrived and parked between Moe and another hog. Greg warmed up the crowd for me, and once they realized I had driven across the country, many sincere hand shakes were offered. More than a hundred bikes had arrived in the next hour. Eventually the hog next to me left and I noticed no one else would park next to the Vespa. To test my theory, Moe moved his Harley across the lot leaving the Vespa with empty spaces on either side. My theory was right on. The lone Vespa in a sea of hogs.

Matt and Greg got fixed up and we left through the 'Blessing of the Bikes' tent. We got a prayer for safe journeys. I prayed for no headwinds.

The last leg of this journey took us across the desert and the Hoover Dam. We had been warned of excessive traffic with tourists, but it turned out not so badly. My outside air temperature gauge hit 102F on the way down to the dam. I managed to snap a pic of it while stopped in traffic after it cooled a bit. We decided to return tomorrow after Moe picked up his wife, Christine at the airport tomorrow morning for the tour.

Traffic on the Las Vegas freeways was a zoo for a Saturday afternoon. We wound our way around the outskirts to the Bonnie Springs Ranch Motel. Think Tweetsie Railroad 45 years ago, and a lot smaller. It even has a narrow gauge train, petting zoo, gun fighter shows and hangings.

Kitschy describes it well too. Apparently Miss Bonnie, 87 years old has decorated all the rooms herself: Iron on appliques of lizards and dragon flies on the curtains and home made lamp shades. Hardwood patterned carpet on the floor competes the picture. My room has a ceiling fan sans blades.

The Bonnie Springs Motel is truly a blast from the past, with a warm and welcoming staff. Michael, one of the caretakers, was astounded that I drove the Vespa across the country. He used to have one.

I tried a buffalo ribeye at the saloon. It was pricey but good. There's no internet here, so I guess I'll have to head to a casino later to lose some money and get online. I could barely keep my eyes open to finish a load of laundry.

I've stopped trying to keep up with what letter of the alphabet I'm listening to.

More pix from today:

Day 5 - 687 miles

Destination: Kingman, AZ

I noticed tonight, looking in the mirror, that I have a 2" band around my throat that is wind-burned. How that wind manages to get in under my full-face and over my jacket is a mystery.

Greg and Moe offered to strap some of my bags on their rides to save time on fuel stops. All these guys have to do is just stick it in, pump and go. Me, I've got to unstrap several bags, my cover, and my lock. Pop up the seat, gas up and do it all again. Maybe an extra three or four minutes per stop, but that adds up over the course of the day. I'm just glad for any guy to carry my bags.

Saving time was a good thing today. Wicked head winds caught us between the western continental divide and Flagstaff. Up until today, I was able to keep up with the speed of traffic for the most part. Hills took a little extra effort, but once we crossed into New Mexico the speed limit increased to 75 mph. There were sometimes I could barely eek out 51-52 mph. It was brutal.

Greg pulled up beside me a one point to block the cross winds. It helped, but eventually he even stopped that because it was rocking his 1/2 ton of Harley all over the lane too.

I started drafting on trucks as they sped by. At a certain speed differential, trucks passing me would suck me into their draft and literally shoot me like a sling shot. If they could stay in the left lane, there was a pocket of remarkably stable air that would pull me along with little or no throttle. The whole drafting experience might seen unnerving to some, but I never felt in any more danger than merely driving a scooter on the freeway to begin with.

Several trucks seemed to not mind me drafting, but a few were not happy campers. Greg and Moe have CB radios and let them know what I was doing. I was grateful one flatbed, with a partial load pulled me the last 35 miles into Flagstaff, before he turned off to head to Phoenix. He could see me in his mirrors the whole time, so I figured he was OK with me tagging along.

As we got closer to Albuquerque, the overpasses and bridges were adorned with southwestern/desert styled motifs. Closer towards the town the noise barriers and pedestrian bridges were more elaborate. Not that it achieves any level of 'public art' but it's pleasant to look at nonetheless.

We took a detour into the Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona. It's a 28 mile loop through the Painted Desert with several breathtaking vistas of the badlands and dried up stream beds. Freight trains rumble through the park along the Santa Fe Railroad. The stunning colors and formations are merely a rehearsal I know for the sights to see next week.

It got quite chilly towards the end, and we all donned our cold weather gear for the last hundred or so miles. We finally arrived in Kingman, tired and numb, but all in one piece.

I listened to tunes starting from 'N' through the end and started with the 'A''s again.

Here's todays pix:

Day 4 - 544 miles

Destination: Albequerque, NM

We didn't make it.

Breakfast at the 4 Star Diner was good and greasy, as it should be. We left just after 9:30 am towards heavy overcast skies. A few hours later the skies cleared as huge turbines of wind farms stretch into the sky along the highway somewhere in Oklahoma. The blades spin slowly on standards towering in the sky. I just don't get what the big deal is about those wind turbines those folks in Craven County want to install on their own property. I know they are purely machines for generating electricity, but they seem majestic in a way.

Moe lost a screw on his fairing and we stopped at the Oklahoma City Harley Davidson. Greg had suggested I pick up a Throttle Rocker to ease the stress on my throttle arm, and we nearly forgot to ask. Kevin, the parts guy at the Harley shop offered me a hearty handshake and big toothless grin when Greg told him I was riding my Vespa across the country. At the end of the day, I guess two wheels are two wheels, no matter how small.

Due to my newly acquired lack of finesse with my new Throttle Rocker and the wicked head and cross winds, my mileage went down the tubes. I motioned to Moe that I needed to stop for gas soon, but I ran out about three miles from McLean, TX. Greg didn't realize I had spare fuel with me and sped off the the next exit. The liter and half of fuel I carry didn't even get me one bar on the gauge, but it got me to the next exit where there was a Shell station on Route 66. Someone always runs out of gas on these adventures. I'm happy to do my part for a successful adventure.

After passing what must have been 5000 head of cattle in fenced paddocks along the east bound lanes, I spotted something resembling sculptures sticking up the field. Several cars were parked and people were walking towards the objects. I couldn't stop, and couldn't really figure out what it was, but it must have been interesting enough for people to stop on the shoulder of the interstate and stomp across a ranch to see what ever it was. Only later did Greg clue me in: It was Cadillac Ranch. A series of Cadillacs, buried tail fins up in the Texas dirt.

Out in the middle of nowhere, near Groom, Texas, there's this humongus cross and Jesus gift shop. There's really nothing else around. It's big. I couldn't tell if this homage was associated with a particular denomination. The cross acts sort of like a sundial surrounding 12 bronze statues of Jesus in his final days. Jesus in a fountain welcomes you to the worship center and gift shop. The sheer enormity of scale is a bit overwhelming. But then again, everything is Texas is big.

We watched the sun set as we crossed into New Mexico. I had most of Oklahoma and all of Texas splattered on my face shield. We found a Quality Inn in Tucumcari just off the highway, with a bar and grill. Unfortunately they bar closed at 9:00pm. I gambled the Ostrich Diane, with a burgundy mushroom sauce. I don't think I've ever eaten ostrich before. It didn't taste at all like chicken.

The sheer numbers dead armadillos along the side of the road might as well be mile markers.

You know, it's amazing to me this satellite guided gizmo, my Garmin GPS, has an accuracy of nine feet as measured from the outer atmosphere, yet can't automatically change the clock when I pass into a different time zone. It's still an hour off, now maybe two.

Today I listened to tunes starting with 'I' to 'M'

Pix today:

Day 3 - 505 Miles

Destination: Fort Smith, AK

I didn't witness this but, I heard Moe nearly had a knock down drag out with some child abuser at breakfast this morning. Seems like Mr. Dahmer wouldn't stop berating little four year Jeffery, and Mrs. Dahmer didn't seem to mind. They eventually went away when Moe threatened to call Child Protection Services. I hear the whole scene was not pretty.

Last night I noticed along the side of the road what looked like dead opossums with remarkable little tire tracks on their dead little bodies. I had no idea there were armadillos in western Tennessee.

Somewhere around Little Rock, what looked like a crumpled refrigerator box loomed in the middle of the lane in front of Moe and Matt. It turned out to be someone's living room carpet. It stuck up like a tee-pee. Moe swerved left and missed it. Matt swerved right, but caught the edge. He got a bit wobbly when his rear tire left the road. A sphincter tightening moment indeed.

I got clobbered by head winds in Arkansas. It really chewed into my mileage. At one fuel stop, I put in 2.317 gallons of fuel in a 2.4 gallon capacity tank. I was literally driving on fumes.

We actually made it past Fort Smith and finally stopped for the night in Roland, OK. The last two hours were in a steady rain. Greg and Moe had to stop as they could not see through their goggles. Moe started to slow down to stop under a bridge. I on the other hand couldn't stop with wet brakes. I over shot the bridge by about 50 yards. After a while under the bridge, Greg reluctantly admitted that maybe it was time for his next helmet to be a full face. The camera phone photograph really tells all....

We stopped at the Cherokee Casino. Cheap rooms since it was a given someone would lose money in the casino. We decided the 'Grill' in the Casino was not the dinner we were looking for.

Thunder and lightning were in the distance as we walked across the street to the 4 Star Diner- "Y'all can't sit near that window- last week we had to haul everybody into the walk-in" our waitress told us. Exactly 90 seconds later, it was raining sideways. Shortly after that penny sized hail started pelting the cars in the parking lot. The waitress said the catfish was good that night. She was right.

We retired to the Casino where Greg and Moe cleaned up at the Texas Hold 'em table. I on the other hand promptly lost a minor sum of cash that was ear marked to lose in Las Vegas anyway.

I purchased a Garmin Zumo 550 GPS unit for this trip. I never really got the chance, with my stellar preparation for this journey to learn all the functions. Learning on the go is not a good option. It has an SD card slot and an MP3 player for tunes that blast through my headset in my helmet. I had tired of listening to the same three albums I had figured out how to punch up at 70mph. I was thrilled to actually notice the 'play all' button on the touch screen. It's an alphabetical playlist- not a bad random shuffle. I get the added bonus of hearing several different artists interpretations of the same tunes back to back.

Today I listened to songs starting with 'A' to 'I' today.

More pictures of today:

Day 2 - 337 miles

Destination: 100 miles past Nashville- we didn't make it.

A beautiful morning near Howards Knob.  Greg, Alice, and Matt have a warm and wonderful home on he side of the mountain.  Rosco, a sweet, sweet black and white dog, and Jaylee, the fluffy long hair tortoise shell cat, share their home.

Matt still had a final exam late in the day so I got up early,  pulled the scooter into Greg's shed, and put a new belt on the scooter. I figured the 8000 miles on the belt I had would be pushing it to add another 2300 interstate miles. My new Continental Zippy was mounted for front rotation, so I swapped the new(ish) Michelin Pilot City on the front and made it my spare- good for front or rear. I topped off the oil, it was a tad low.  I moved on to my arts and crafts project for the day. 

Greg laughed out loud last night when  showed him the beaded seat cover I purchased last summer and have been meaning to cut down to fit on the scooter seat.  I don't care how kitschy it looks, I really don't want to drive across the country with a sweaty butt.  It actually turned out great after I found the 'Rosetta Stone' piece of monofilament to carefully un-weave the pattern without spilling 500 beads on the floor for Rosco to choke on.
 

We finally leave town around 5:30pm.  Winding through the narrow two lane roads leading to Johnson City is a pleasant beginning to what will I'm sure turn into long and tedious journey on the interstates after we meet Moe in Knoxville.

Matt had a friend in Nashville he wanted to visit, and we would be arriving later at night. Somewhere outside of Nashville, we stopped for coffee at a McDonalds. I never thought a double cheeseburger could taste so good... then again, maybe it was just the salt.

Nashville- it's late

More pictures from today are here:

Day 1 - 189 Miles

Destination: Boone, NC

Scooter loaded up, I stopped by the office to UPS the ginormous bag with my tent, sleeping bag and mattress ahead.  I won't really need that on the first part of this journey.  The scooter is very top heavy, sort of like having a passenger with a 100 pound head wobbling on the back.

I wish I got a picture of everyone else at the office taking my picture with their camera phones in the parking lot.

I stopped in Greensboro at ScooterVita to see Scott and Josh.  One last goodbye to the furry children and Mom and Dad.

Arrived in Boone late.  Met Greg and Alice at the Earth Fare parking lot.  They led me straight up a mountain to their home.

Photos of today are here:

One Day

As in one day before I leave.  

Yesterday I drove Guy and Lola to Greensboro to get fat and spoiled with their grandparents during my journey.  Neither one are very happy campers in the car.

I'm mostly packed, I keep thinking of little things I need to write down to remember.  My main list is getting whacked down to a manageable size.  My goal is to clear town by one o'clock tomorrow, drive to Boone, NC to meet up with Greg Williams and his son Matt, with a stop in Greensboro to see the folks at ScooterVita, and check out the parents and the cats.

I managed to get my desk cleaned up and finish up a few lingering projects.  George and Virginia invited me over for a sending off cookout.  Thanks for the steak and veggies.  A trial run for pitching my new tent in the back yard was still on my list.   I figured out later,  after a few beers and working in the dark would be a good learning experience. 

It was.