Day 26 - 297 Miles

Destination: No where in particular, just east.

The nice lady at the Canyon Trails Inn suggested a stop a Royal Gorge over the Arkansas River, although touristy, was well worth the trip. That entails a trip up Monarch Pass, the western continental divide.

On the way, I stopped in Gunnison for fuel, I wasn't sure how much I'd burn up climbing the pass. Someone has carved a big W on the hillside. It looks remarkably like a huge dubya bumper sticker.

The GTS bogged down to a bit over 40mph climbing up the 4000 feet to get to the 11 thousand or so feet summit. It's still hard pack snow, and very cold. I will never again even consider a journey without warm gear. I had almost decided to leave the warm stuff at home. I'm so glad I didn't.

Nelson, an Irish chap was driving a Honda. He's lost his job and thought there would be no better time to take a two month tour of the USA. He figured he might not ever get the chance.

Hwy 50 cuts deep into the gorge formed by the Arkansas River. It and a railroad track along the edge of the river for miles and miles of twisting turns. There really weren't too may safe places for me to pull over, but I eventually found a good spot that was rampant with rafters.

The turn off to Royal Gorge was gaudy, so much so I couldn't actually bring the camera to my face to take a picture. Bad, bad, bad. Fake gunfights and hangings. Puleeze. The bridge however was way cool. Wooden planked, wire suspension, built in 1929. You can even drive across it. It really swings in the wind. There's a vertical train car that travels straight down to the river. Some of the I-beams were bent, it was a bit un-nerving for me. Once on the bridge, the geek in me came out and I really was more intrigued by the construction, wire splices, the rigging, etc. Today's slide show is for all you geeks out there too.

The rest of the trip was all downhill from there, really. I stopped for gas way down the road after more than 160 miles. I didn't even get two gallons in the tank. Colorado really flattens out, and my long shadows are an indication of what I have in store for Kansas: flat as far as the eye can see.

I decided if La Junta, Colorado looked good, I would stay here rather than continuing to Lamar for the night. I'm glad I did. I followed a sign to the Midtown Motel advertised as 'The Quiet Place'. Of all things, I run into a bunch of folks attending a Cushman Scooter Meet. They've invited me to their shindig tomorrow: breakfast, a ride, lunch, scooter games, and door prizes.

Is that cool, or what?

A big slide show today:

Day 25 - 340 Miles

Destination: Montrose, CO

Mercifully today was uneventful. It was mostly a green day, more greenery that I've seen in weeks. Utah got a bit drier looking. I hopped on I-70 for a good deal of today as Alt-50 went through parts of Utah I saw a few weeks ago.

There were several miles however that I noticed a creek/river flowing along side the freeway, it looked like it was heading the wrong direction, as in I swear I was heading downhill, but I was actually climbing. This has happened twice on this trip. I guess it's an optical illusion. I even pulled over to stop and see if I would roll backwards. I did. See how uneventful today was?

AMEX has pissed me off beyond belief at this point. Words cannot describe how livid I am now seven times on this trip they have cut off my card 'for my protection'.

I pulled into the Canyon Trails Inn in Montrose CO. Another motorcyclist was checking in too. Paul, seems to be a MSF instructor from Chicago. He's on vacation touring the southwest. I invited him to join me for dinner at the Red Barn. We traded some remarkably similar road stories. Safe journeys, Paul.

A short slide show today:

Day 24 - 314 Miles

Destination: Delta, UT

If you are ever in the sleepy old mining town of Austin, NV, the Mountain Motel is the place to stay. It's like the saying 'you can't judge a book by it's cover' - new beds, new bathrooms, new HVAC, and a nice proprietor to boot. Farewells to my pedal cycle friends, their butts are tired and are sandbagging a day here hoping to miss any bad weather. Although the sun was shining, not a mile out of town, the sprinkles started. The temperature dipped below 42F and I was immediately bored of cold and rain.

The nice thing about the rain however, is the sweet sage smell that permeates the air as I descend into a valley from one of the dozens of summits I cross. Each pass offers a new view which must be even more spectacular if not for the rain and clouds. I did manage to skirt the worst of it that obscured the view with wispy sheets of rain.

I stopped at the Opera House in Eureka to get my 'I Survived Hwy 50 Passport' stamped. It's been restored and is now part of the Chamber of Commerce. Nice little place if you ask me. I had lunch at the Owl Roost Casino. As if I haven't been subjected to enough ducks these last few months, they have ducks swinging from the ceiling. Very strange.

Most of the interesting turn offs have been down dirt roads, but one for an archaeological site in Baker, NV was paved...at least the first part of it. I'm glad to report I did not drop the scooter on the last 1/2 mile that was gravel. The gravel dust made for a nice backgound for my Michelin Gold Standard tire now with 6000 miles on it. That's a lot of miles. More often than not, scooter tires last less than 3000 miles.

I stopped at the Utah/Nevada border for fuel. As I turned to leave, I noticed the road blocked by Highway patrolmen from Utah. I figured it was some road block for some escaped criminal, but it turned out to be an escort for two ginormous earth moving behemoths on flatbeads that took up both lanes of Hwy 50. I can't imagine the cost to the trucking company to block who knows how many miles with eight Highway Patrolman escorts.

Once into Utah, the rugged mountain passes quickly morphed into dry, flat, arrid desert. I thought the last 200 miles was lonely. This was downright depressing. The vista eventually opened up to salt flats as far as the eye could see.

I've been seeing the warning signs for open range cattle for weeks now. I finally spot some along the side of the road, on my side of the fence. How quaint. I stopped to get a picture. They all stopped to look at me, then they started coming to me. I figured it best to leave, there were some babies with them, and I was not interested in any bovine battle. I saw them just milling about the center of the highway in my mirrors. I turned around and went back to terrorize them off the road. I really didn't want to leave them in the middle of the road.

I decided to stop at The Deltan Inn, they advertised wireless internet, but it seems I'll need to plug in at the office. A late dinner at The Rancher Cafe was welcome, along with lots of local advice on the next few days of travel.

I'm happy to be out of the cold. Big slide show today:

Day 23 - 256 Miles

Destination: Great Basin National Park

I didn't make it.

Despite there being no heat in the cabin, I woke up warm and toasty in a big soft bed. I didn't want to leave, but the sun is out, so I thought it should be a great day for riding. Little did I realize how wrong I was.

Lucky's cabin is about a mile west of the extremely tiny town of Kyburz. A sign on the solitary business establishment says 'Welcome to Kyburz', the next line reads 'Now Leaving Kyburz'. A light, but steady rain started not long after I passed there. I figured if it was anything like yesterday, the rain would stop once I passed Echo Summit to descend into South Lake Tahoe. Wrong again.

Miles and miles of a steady light rain were in store for me. As I looked towards my direction of travel, I saw blue skies, but I realized it was dark blue like rain, not sky. I eventually hit a small hail storm coming into Carson City. I stopped for fuel before departing on my journey across the Loneliest Highway in America. I somehow managed to avoid the dark rain clouds and showers I could see, but could not shake the light rainfall.

I stopped for a bite to eat in Fernely, I checked the radar at the Chamber of Commerce while getting my 'I Survived Hwy 50 Passport' stamped. I sandbagged long enough to dodge some of the worst rain.

East of Fallon, NV, the land flattens in a huge basin, and since I was chasing the worst rain, the roads were wet. For the next 10-15 miles, the banks of the spillways on either side of the road have become a natural graffiti target. People pick up dark stones, from where I can't tell and spell out all kinds of things along the banks. This goes on for miles and miles. I'm guessing the rainy season is not that long, maybe just today and tomorrow since some are dated over the last several years. The usual so-and-so loves so-and-so along with some other choice statements certainly broke up the pace.

The mountains in the distance were obscured by the rain clouds, I can only imagine how spectacular this should be on a bright and sunny day. There is nothing but scrub bushes and sand in this Great Basin. Somewhere between Cold Springs and Austin on one of the only two trees I've spotted for the last hundred miles or so, must be 500 pairs of shoes hanging from this cottonwood tree.

I decided to only try as far as Austin, NV for the night. Way short of my destination, but I'm cold and tired. I did manage to get a few pictures between the rain showers. Just outside of Austin, right about the time I'm really feeling tired, I spot a couple of pedal bikes stopped on the side of the road with a flat. I turned around to go back and see if they needed help. Gee, I thought I had a bad day, it was their second flat. They said they were OK and to tell the other two bikers ahead they were coming behind shortly. I did catch up with the other two and passed on the message. None of them had a plan except to stop in Austin like me.

I stopped at the first little motel that advertised internet access: the Mountain Motel. It's undergone a recent renovation, and Jim the proprietor was very accommodating. several other motorcycles are here, so it must be OK. The other two bikers pedaled up the winding hill and pulled into the parking lot. They were beat, it was a 65 mile day for them. I pulled my crap off my scooter and drove the three or four miles back down the road to haul some of the other two's luggage up the hill.

David and Belinda and Jack (the terrier) who have traveled by pedal bike since Salinas, CA are heading to Massachusetts. A friend of theirs, Bill is traveling with them only as far as Ely, NV. The fourth cyclist is John, on his way to an artist in residency job in New York, is someone they met along the road this week.

We all got settled in and had dinner at the Toiyabe Cafe. Our road war stories were similar, but I still think they have it a lot harder than I do. I admire their guts and stamina to ride pedal bikes across the country. Belinda showed me some routes that might make my journey towards Denver more enjoyable than the I-70 freeway.

I'm tired and cold. Today's slideshow:

Day 22 - 155 Miles

Destination: Lake Tahoe

We made it this time.


Barbara met us early. She's decided to ride on the back of Lucky's scooter for a tour around Lake Tahoe, so we trailered the two scooters to Lucky's cabin just outside of Tahoe. This by far has to the best MPG I've gotten on this entire trip. We stopped in Placerville, CA also known as Hang Town (for obvious reasons) for brunch at the Buttercup Pantry, another home grown pancake/waffle house. My California Benedict: poached eggs, sliced avocado and hollandaise on an English muffin was to die for.

When Lucky bought this cabin several years ago, there was ski jersey mounted over the fireplace from the 1968 Olympic champion Spider Sabich. He made his offer contingent on keeping the jersey. The deal went down, and little did he realize at the time, this was the childhood home of Sabich. It's an incredibly restored cabin from the early 1930's. The cabin managed to survive several fires over the years, and is an ideal hideaway. A crumbling outpost of the 1860's Pony Express is just beyond this cabin.

We unloaded the scooters, and departed for our clockwise excursion around Lake Tahoe. It was cold and somewhat rainy on the climb up past Sugar Loaf to the lake. We ascended though the clouds, past Lover's Leap, and descended to the Lake for a gorgeous sun dappled view of the lake.

Just past the California/Nevada border, we stopped at the CalNeva Casino, formerly owned by Frank Sinatra, for a late lunch. This was the stomping ground for many a celebrity in the day. There are tunnels underground from the stage to Frank's bungalo. Marylyn Monroe had a cabin here too. This was the Rat Pack's playground. It straddles the California Nevada border, with a line running through the swimming pool and through the grand ballroom. We sort of snuck into the theatre, but it was way too dark to see much. I wasn't interested in getting kicked out by turning on the lights.

We fueled up and headed towards the south side of the lake for Bill's Casino, mercifully the only non-smoking casino I have ever seen. I'd forgotten to get the cash I intended to lose earlier when we unloaded the scooters at the cabin and I realized I left the keys to my scooter back at Lucky's house in Sacramento. I was forced to use a casino ATM to lose my money. I had a spare set of keys so it worked out OK. My replacement American Express card chased me up the California coast, so my other keys can chase me across the continent.

The casino was not crowded at all. Lucky was not so lucky as he blew some cash at the Craps table while unsuccessfully trying to explain to me how the game works. I still don't get it. An hour or so of fun for me at the Roulette table left me lighter for cash. I wandered over to Lucky just as he was unluckily blowing the rest of his wad at a $5 minimum Blackjack table. I sat down with my last bit of cash I had earmarked to lose. I sort of staked Lucky, and he sort of advised me. Soon I had several handfuls of red chips and cashed them in for fewer green chips. I was excited to play with the just green chips. Lucky urged me to to leave when I had several handfuls of green chips before I tried to play with the blue chips.I did get to hold a handful of blue chips on the way to the cashier. We did well.

We drove though some rain and fog back to the cabin. Sadly I'm leaving the care of my social director for these last several days. I'm staying at the cabin while Barbara and Lucky head back to Sacramento. Barbara's got to be at work early in he morning, so we loaded up Lucky's scooter on the trailer.

No better way to end the day. Thank you Lucky for these last several days. You truly are a sweetheart, despite what everyone says about you on the interwebs. It's been a blast with all you Bastards.

A slide show from today:

Day 21 - 0 Miles

Destination: Lake Tahoe

We didn't even try.



Last night Colin told us it was snowing in Tahoe. Lucky offered, and I decided it best to spend one more night in Sacramento. My scooter has found a friend, We loaded Lucky's GTS that was at Julie's house, and mine on to the trailer for the trip back to Sacramento, said goodbye to Julie. Thanks Julie for your hospitality.

Lucky, Brooke (his daughter) and I drove back to Sacramento. Once again, we mercifully were heading in the opposite direction of all the Memorial Day weekend traffic. Brunch at a non-desccrpt Denny's hit the spot.

Lucky won a Buddy Black Cat Rattler 50cc scooter in some scooter raffle and it's become Brooke's scooter. Unfortunately, the front tire, brake caliper, clips and shoes have been removed by some dope who was unable to figure out how it goes back together. I like puzzles, and Lucky and I figured it out after a few tries and a few adult carbonated beverages.

Barbara (Wayward Bastard) from last night joined us along with her mother Audrey, for dinner at somethingorother Buccos for a family style Italian dinner. It was good and big. It's some restaurant chain with off the wall Italian inspired decor. We walked through the kitchen to be seated, there were tables in the kitchen also. A huge upstairs seating area with cozy nooks and crannies offered even more sights. One dining room had the Pope on a Lazy Susan in the middle of a humongus round table.

We decided to try Tahoe tomorrow. Lucky has a cabin near there, and Barbara decided to join us. It should be fun.

Today's short slideshow:

Day 20 - 27 Miles

Destination: Mods vs. Rockers

Lucky needed to get to Kinko's to get some cards printed for the Royal Bastards 'Blazing Saddles' Lake Tahoe Rally in July. We had brunch at the In-n-Out Burger waiting for the printing. I've heard about them, thinking it was maybe like White Castle burgers. Think Char-Grill on a huge franchise basis. They have no mayo in the store but their own special sauce. If you know the lingo, you can get a special burger off the menu. Another tasty treat.


We stopped at the San Francisco Scooter Center. Barry, the owner has a collection of Lambrettas and Vespas upstairs that would rival a museum collection. Cyrus, an interviewer for NPR showed up to interview Barry about the increase in scooter ownership. He was busy with customers, so Cyrus talked to me. He was a perceptive interviewer, and spent a long time talking to me. Don't know when it will air, but I'm sure it'll chew a bit more into my fifteen minutes of fame. Thor, by the way, wearing his little Doggles rides on the scooter with Lucky.

Mod's vs. Rockers is a ride that has a history dating back years ago to the emerging conflict between the modern scooter riders and the leather rocking motorcycle riders. Now it's more like a Revolutionary War re-enactment. All the scooters meet in one side of town and the motorcycles somewhere else. We all ride to a particular tunnel, block the traffic on both sides, ride in circles in the tunnel until it fills with smoke, mockingly insult each other, drive out before the cops arrive.

There probably were 250 scooters and motorcycles riding through the city streets. Sort of like a bunch or rowdy kids on skateboards terrorizing the city. We don't stop at stop lights, or signs. Apparently this particular ride has such a reputation that all advertising is underground, otherwise the police would shut it down.

We made a stop at Ocean Beach for no apparent reason, then continued up to Twin Peaks. We ended up back at the San Francisco Motorcycle Club for chili and drinks. It seems one of the initiation rituals of the San Francisco Motorcycle Club is to suffer the humiliation of driving wearing silly rabbit and Leprechaun costumes. It really was humorous seeing a guy with bunny ears and outfit riding a motorcycle.


Many of the scooters and motorcycles were vintage. I noticed one particular very old Honda 90 that looked like the first shift motorcycle I learned to ride. Dean, the owner walked up while I was reminiscing. Cool bike. Brooke, Lucky's daughter needed sustenance, so we wandered up the street to Whiz Burger. Several other Bastards wound up with us.

We eventually made our way up to Dreaded Bastards house with the incredible view of the San Francisco Bridge. Colin, whom I stayed with last week was in town for his nieces graduation. We met up with him for a drink, and we wound up at Mel's Drive-in, made famous in 'American Graffiti'. Fresh sliced turkey on the turkey melt was tasty. I scored some of the paper hats the servers wear with the stipulation we couldn't wear them in the restaurant, to keep the servers out of trouble.

Thanks all you Bastards for a super fun ride today.

A new slide show:

Day 19 - 0 miles

Destination: San Francisco Scooter Girls 4th Annual Bash



Lucky got up early for a quick job, and Thor, a tiny chihuahua dog decided to play by running in tight circles until he was totally out of breath. He's a sweetheart. Later, to continue the Lucky theme, we ate breakfast at Lucky Cafe. The turkey, bacon, and avocado omelet was pretty darn tasty. The turkey was real, not that cubed Spam stuff.

Lucky loaded my scooter onto his trailer to San Francisco, met with Julie, one of the San Francisco Scooter Girls. It's odd, never having seen my scooter on a trailer. I'm glad I wasn't driving, the traffic was stupid with everyone heading out of town for the Memorial Day weekend.

Julie has a gimongous cat named 'Dog'. He's sweetheart too, and tolerates Thor well. We decided to grab some dinner at a Thai restaurant before the big bash. Probably the best Thai food I recall ever having.

San Francisco Scooter Girls 4th Annual bash was a blast. Finally getting to meet scooter folks I only know from the internet. The San Francisco Motorcycle Club was founded in 1904. The walls are covered with photos depicting the rich history. It should be a museum.

Drag, my camera battery was dead. A fun night indeed.

Today's slide show:

Day 17 and 18 - 554 miles

Destination: Sacramento, CA via Big Sur


These past two days have been brutal. The first day started off well enough, with breakfast at Whole Foods. Last night Greasy suggested I drive Sunset Blvd down to the Pacific Ocean to start my journey towards the north. It was a spectacular ride though many posh parts of LA, fragrant and scenic. It dumped me right on to Hwy 1 at the ocean. A pretty windy day, sort of overcast. As soon as I turned north, the road had been scraped prepping for re-paving. The next 12 miles were torture with the front wheel tracking in whatever pattern the asphalt scraping machine divined. It should have been a sign.

My replacement American Express card was going to meet me at Thousand Oaks Vespa, courtesy of Kevyn who needed some maintenance on his GTS. Colin suggested taking a spin to Zuma Beach, made famous in numerous movies, most notably the final scene in 'Planet of the Apes' with the Statue of Liberty buried in the sand. I made a wrong turn, came up behind it, going the wrong way, and never figured out how to get over to the other side.

David and Linda of Thousand Oaks Vespa run a great shop. David picked hp his phone right away to call Vespa to look into my temp gauge oddness. I don't think its a problem, but it nags me. Thanks David for the tee-shirt.

The Santa Aunta Maria Antoinette Hundred Year Wicked Winds have been just miserable these last two days. I am physically and mentally exhausted fighting the stiff headwinds, gusts, and crosswinds. This is supposed to the be the fun part. There were a few high points, however.

I did stop to watch the sunset over San Simeon, there's been some fires too, and the view is hazy and misty from the wind. Twilight driving along the Pacific Coast Highway was fun until I passed the sign after dark: 'Pavement Ends' WTF? That was the first time I dropped the scooter that night. I came to a stop on the sandy loose gravel, didn't realize there was a drop off, put my foot down, the ground was not there. The second time was at the camp ground after I put it on the stand, it shifted away from me, I tried to stop it but it just went on over. I've cracked the floor board, oh well....

My trial run of assembling my tent in the dark was a useful exercise. Mercifully the campgrounds were far enough inland to not have to contend with the winds whipping in from the north. It was blissful not to be fighting the wind, sand, dark, gravel, and mist.

I woke up in a grove of Redwoods, took a short scenic hike up to Pheiffer Falls and a short loop trail along the Big Sur Valley view. Normally one would be able to see all the way to the ocean, but the fire's hazy glaze obscure the view.

More brutal crosswinds taunted me on my way to Sacramento. Lucky Bastard has offered to be my social director for the next couple of days. I made it just in time for their chapter meeting of The Royal Bastards Scooter Club. Dinner and ride around the Capital and Old Town Sacramento was a blast. Thanks Lucky for dinner.

We stopped at Rick's for some coffee and decadent dessert, then off to another oddity known as Winkos Acoustic Sanctuary. It's a rolling one man band, piano bar, improv, and story telling, in a converted bread truck. There's four bar stools around the piano and room for maybe another four if you squeeze in. He asks you for any random topic and he hauls off on a tune, sometimes the real thing sometimes a brilliant improvisation.

We ran into Pope, of the Burgundy Topz, one of the oldest scooter clubs around. He had loads of useful info and tips on things to see and do for my the next few days here and the rest of my journey.

One last short ride around Sutter's Fort, smack in the middle of town made for an incredibly fun night. A nice change. Thanks all you Bastards.

New slide show:

Day 16 - 123 miles

Destination: Sherman Oaks, CA

Kevyn and Linda are long gone by the time I get up to have tea with Lily, Zoe, Tipper, and Tess. Tess has one ear that sticks up likes belly rubs. Tipper keeps me occupied with a tiny tennis ball. Lily and I play tug of war with a torn up blanket. I'm having to wait for American Express to deliver me a me a new card. Added to my misery of having my card cut off 'for my own protection' four times so far on this journey, it seems the magnetic strip is worn out as well.

I gave up the ghost waiting for UPS and headed off to meet up with Colin, a fellow scooterist, who has offered me a place to stay tonight. I guess that AMEX card will just chase me up the California coast.

Mercifully the weather is way cooler here in LA than it is in the desert. I think I picked a good time of day as the ever expanding lanes on the freeways were not so crowded after all.

Colin lives in a beautiful neighbourhood with purple flowering trees covering the streets like a canopy, a welcome respite. His grey tortie cat, named Seven, greeted me at his door step. Colin, along with all the scooter folks I've met with so far are members of The Royal Bastards Scooter Club. What a great group of people. I'm so sorry I'm missing the opportunity to meet up with more Bastards from San Diego, but I've been invited to a couple of other scooter rallies and events up near San Francisco towards the end of the week.


Greasy is another Bastard living the scooter dream wrenching on scooters for a living in his own shop. He has a spotless shop, and invited me to put my baby on the lift give him the once over. I felt the need to clean my air filter after a week and a half in the desert. His shop is filled with vintage Vespas and Lambrettas in various states of repair. Amazingly my air filter was not that dirty, but Greasy gave me a new one anyway. Thanks Greasy.

Colin wrangled up two other Bastards, Spencer and Jameson, for a ride up to the Hollywood sign and a spin in the hills on Mulholland Drive. Greasy joined us for a spectacular sunset ride. The full moon magically popped up over the hills as LA lay out below us on the twisty, curvy, and downright bumpy roads through the hills.

We wound up at Barney's Beanery for burger and a pint. The food was good, we were all hungry. This haunt has a celebrity history for events such as Jim Morrison taking a leak on the bar. Apparently John Wayne spent a lot of time here too. We left to drive around LA and it's many popular landmarks: Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Capitol Records, Universal Studios.

Thanks all you Bastards for a great time in LA.

Day 15 - 223 Miles

Destination: Wrightwood, CA



Last night, when I started the dryer, I thought I heard something clomping about inside. I stopped it, felt around and found nothing. This morning when I folded my clothes, I found the culprit in the side pocket of my shorts: my spare cell phone. Oh well... No great loss, it's an old Cingular phone I plucked out of a re-cycling bin, paid eight bucks to get it unlocked an bought a T-Mobile pre-paid sim card. I opened it up, and it looked OK but wouldn't power on. After an hour on the charger, it fired right up. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'.

I re-packed, lightened my load, said goodbye to Josh, my roomie from the last week. Since he was staying in Vegas for a few days, he offered to drop my extra bag and un-needed items at a UPS store to ship back home. I took a detour to snap a pic at the famous 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign. It sure looks out of place now that the strip has spread so far south.

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I realized that today I would be totally on my own. A bit daunting, but not 10 minutes outside of Vegas, I realized the sense of freedom setting my own pace. Up until now, I've been with a group of others, and I felt the need to keep up the pace.

Last night too, there was some weirdness with my coolant temp gauge. Not sure what the problem was, but in the extreme heat and WOT, it gave me some odd readings on the bar graph. Everything seems OK for now.

The heat in the desert is oppressive. It just sucks the life and water right out of oneself. The outside air temp gauge tells me it 116 degrees. More frequent stops for cool water were in order. The water I'm carrying with me is hot, and really doesn't quench my thirst. Dotted along the side of I-15 there are skeletal remains of cafes, gas stations, homes, and motels that have long since succumbed to the arid desert.

A sign for Peggy Sue's Diner 10 miles away in Yearmo got my attention. It was late in the afternoon and I didn't realize how hungry I was. Truly a blast from the past, the original nine stools and three booths have been added to and added to over the years. It's even got a tiny outdoor stage and water park out back. Dinosaurs gaze over the water park.

Linda and Kevyn are two of the nicest scooter pals you could meet. They offered me a place to stay tonight. Linda suggested I take the scenic Lone Pine Canyon Road to her house. What a gorgeous surprise. A twistie turning road up a green canyon with a sea of blooming yuccas as far as the eye could see. Miles and miles of fragrant beauty.

Wrightwood, CA is a sleepy town with a highland sort of atmosphere. Homes and cottages dotted all along the hills. Four happy dogs greeted me, and the two older ones slipped out the door and ran off up the street. Linda grabbed the leashes and off we went after them. I'm thinking they are old and hard of hearing. Linda says they're just ignoring us.

Kevyn and Linda treated me to a grand dinner at a local Mexican eatery. Thanks for dinner! The Huevos Rancheros and Negra Modelo hit the spot. We're all tired, Kevin and Linda both have to leave a o'dark thirty for work tomorrow. They have a garage full of scooters and each have an hour or two commute. The scooter is saving Kevin a bundle in gas money alone.

Lily, one of the pooches, I'm warned will be sleeping with me tonight. Here's a few pics from today:

Day 14 - 305 Miles

Destination: Back to Las Vegas

The early morning sunlight cast an entirely different look across the canyon. I grabbed some breakfast at the deli and munched on the scenic porch of the Lodge. The colours change by the minute. The sky is a bright blue with a few wisps of clouds. The chipmunks here are huge and daring. Scrambling around your feet, they know people have and drop all kinds of food and treats.



Most of us are splitting up today. Some have flights to catch out of Vegas, others are heading back home. This has been an incredible journey so far, I've met some wonderful people from all over the states, Canada and England. I've seen astounding places I never expected to see in my life. Thanks Loren for planning this trip. It's been a blast.

Josh and I headed off to Las Vegas. He was planning on staying with his friend, Scott, the TD at UNLV. I appreciated the invite to stay over. We headed back through Zion Park on the same road we left on a week earlier. The views heading in the opposite direction were spectacular again. We grabbed lunch at Oscar's Cafe in Springdale and jumped on I-15.

The temperature was hotter than a week ago. I watched with dread as my outside air gauge rose past 100 degrees. Every time I looked, it was creeping up higher and higher. I tried not to look, but much like seeing a car wreck, I couldn't not look. It reached 114 degrees as we neared downtown.

We finally arrived, found Scott's apartment, and I was very happy to get a chance to do some laundry and re-pack for the rest of my journey. Thanks Scott. I made a side trip back to the Bonnie Springs Motel to collect my tent and sleeping bag. On the way back, I put the nearest cross street to Scott's house into the GPS to see how it would route me back. Later on I realized as the GPS was heading me in the completely opposite direction, that Scott lives in a nearby township outside of Las Vegas proper. I zig-zagged across town valiantly trying to avoid the strip.

Day 13 - 256 Miles

Destination: North Rim of the Grand Canyon

I've decided to try the Cafe at the Anasazi Inn. I think it was open all night, at least there were trucks idling in the lot and lots of activity all through the night. I guess she missed the 'eggs' part of my 'two eggs scrambled with cheese and bacon' order. I got a pile of hash browns and cheese covered bacon strips. I was not alone, Greg's order was wrong too. I gave the biscuits and gravy to Vickie who was making a doggie tray for the dogs. They looked hungry. The cats seemed to fare well dining in the dumpsters out back.

Our first stop along the way was in Antelope Canyon near Page, AZ. It's a Navajo Park, and a added four-wheel drive tour took us a few miles into the sands of Antelope Wash. There a short 1/4 mile cut through a sandstone cliff carved by the swirling waters that rush through the rock during the flooding that occurs five or so times a year. During certain times of the day, a few shafts of sunlight manage to cut into the cool and shady retreat from the blazing sun.

Our Navajo guide was great, his clan had been on this land for centuries and took great pride and care of the natural beauty of the landscape. His descriptions of the countless forms and shapes inside the cut were fascinating. Several times he would take our cameras and frame the perfect shot for us.

We stopped for lunch just at the Navajo Bridge as it crossed the Colorado River near the Vermillion Cliffs. I found a pay phone to yell at American Express for now the fourth time on this journey for cutting off my card due to suspicious fraud activity. This crap is getting old. Someone who wanted to remain anonymous picked up the tab for lunch, I think it was Greg. Thanks.

As we wound around the Vermillion Cliffs, great chasms of the Colorado River cut into the flattened valley. Huge red crumbling cliffs frame the comparatively lush valley. The temperature started dropping as we climbed the huge mesa towards the North Rim. Snow on the ground yet again was the clue I had on not enough warm gear. Lush green meadows and dense evergreen forests were not what I expected.

The cabins at the North Rim Lodge were warm and cozy. The Lodge itself has a huge glassed terrace that reveals the money shot. This canyon is huge. The colours in the late afternoon on the north side are astounding. The sun set as I took a short hike towards Bright Angel Point. There you can hear the roaring of the river far below the fault line that is visible from the point.

Mark managed to get a reservation for us all seventeen of us for dinner. The Lodge has only been open three days, so dinner was a bit rocky. Mark treated us all. Thanks Mark.

I went a bit overboard with the pix:

Day 12 - 226 Miles

Destination: 10 miles west of Kayenta, Navajo Nation

We got up early to explore the Pueblo Indian cave dwellings in the park. Several of us took the 'Balcony House' tour, guided by a Park Ranger. I can't imagine building these structures in the sides of these cliffs. Much of the remaining structures are original, with minimal restoration. The tour took us up ladders, scaling the sheer rock faces, and through tight tunnels into the sandstone.

Large areas of the park are fire damaged. Fields of ghostly, ashen trees are a stark contrast to the surprising amount of greenery on these mesas. We really didn't have time to explore the entire park, it was huge.

We left Mesa Verde and headed to Four Corners Monument. A small spot in the middle of nowhere at the intersection of New Mexico, Colorado, Utah and Arizona. Surrounding the monument is a scene mindful of a weekend flea market, but all Navajo. Lunch wagons sold Navajo (flat bread) tacos and burgers. I had the Frito pie.

Monument Valley lay between us and Kayenta. Spectacular red rock shapes stretch towards the sky. Huge monolithic shale and sandstone form remarkable structures. Some resemble animals, faces and people.

We arrived at the Anasazi Inn, a quintessential 50's motel, with a desert Navajo flavour. Several scraggly dogs lay in the parking lot like they own the place. The rooms have dark paneling, not the real thing. It's quaint.

Rob, David and Brenda, Greg and I decided to head back in the sag wagon towards Kayenta to dinner. We discovered the Amigo Cafe Cafe (yes, Cafe is twice on the sign). Supposedly one of the three top 100 restaurants in Arizona. It was truly a local eatery, and excellent Mexican fare. The combination enchilada, taco and tostada dinner was better than most I have ever had. Rob picked up the tab. Thanks Rob.

I needed to fuel up and drove back to Kayenta yet again. I had my camera this time and decided to drive back to get a picture of the Amigo Cafe Cafe. While I was fumbling with the camera, I heard a noise to my left. I looked up and a pack of wild horses was crossing the four lane road about 10 feet away. The seven or eight ponies clopped on down a side street beside me like a bunch of rowdy kids on skateboards, roaming the town. I was dumbstruck, unable to raise the camera to get a picture.

I drove back to the Anasazi Inn very slowly.

Day 11 - 236 Miles

Destination: Mesa Verde National Park, CO

I'm not sure who said it would be much warmer today, but I believed them.

I perused Lin's Rock Shop before we left town. An overwhelming array of rocks, fossils, geodes, minerals, crystals, and native artistry. Not nearly as touristy as expected.

I should have realized by now that if I see snow, it means I'm dressed inappropriately. I left wearing shorts and a long sleeve shirt under my mesh jacket, mesh pants, and mesh gloves. I watched with frigid gloom as the temperature gauge crept down below 55 degrees. We mercifully stopped at a grocery store in Naturita. I put on a light weight layer of rain gear thinking that would be good. The snow covered La Sal mountains were soon in the distance behind us.

We passed into Colorado as the rains loomed in the distance in front of us. Our destination was Telluride, a ski town for a lunch stop. We eventually ran into a light rain, and everyone else stopped to don warmer/rain gear.

Lunch was a welcome warm retreat at the Brown Dog Cafe. I wanted anything served hot. Several cups of hot tea and a hot meatball sub hit the spot. I managed to put on every layer of rain/warmer wear I brought with me. Everyone else had left to get fuel. I was several minutes behind, and the weather looked bad.

Those picturesque snow covered mountains that formed the backdrop to Telluride were actually our route out of town. This last leg was less than 100 miles straight up the mountain through Coal Bank Pass. The rest of the group left, hoping to avoid the rain, as I pulled up to the pump.

I fueled up and headed to Cortez on Scenic Byway 145 along the Delores River. Low lying clouds were ahead and I thought: 'how cool to be driving into the fog'. Cool wasn't exactly the word. Snow flurries filled the fog I drove into. The snow flakes stuck to my face shield.

As I continued to climb and I noticed my GPS had four dashes in the altitude reading. I was past 10,000 feet. Soon the freezing rain turned into pea sized hail by the time I got to Rico. What a summer vacation! I crossed into Montezuma County and noticed the outside air temperature gauge had warmed up to a toasty 42 degrees.

I caught up to the rest of the group in Cortez before we turned off to head to Mesa Verde park. It was a spectacular ascent up the mesas. The Farview Lodge lives up to it's name. The Lodge is on top of a mesa with a 360 degree view all around.

I'm cold and tired. Not many pictures today:

Day 10 - 271 miles

Destination: Moab, UT

I took a few moments this morning to go back to Fairyland Canyon. Sort of a miniature version of Bryce Canyon just next door. The colours were totally different in the early morning sunlight.

Lots of other bikers in this part of the country. Nearly every stop we make, I answer the same questions: How fast does that thing go? How many miles per gallon? How much money does it cost? They're all amazed I have driven from North Carolina. I'm amazed several bikers at a fuel stop asked to take my picture.

We left on Scenic Byway 12 towards Capitol Reef National Park. This day I believe has been the most varied. of all days so far. It seemed to change every thirty minutes or so. From the rich sheer cliffs of red rocks, to the gypsum layered knuckles, the snow covered forrest of Aspen trees, the flattened desert, the lunar looking landscape to towering snow covered mountains in the distance.

Experience has taught me that when I see snow on the ground, I'm wearing the wrong gloves. Sure enough, I put on my mesh gloves just before the climb past 9300 feet, and temperatures below 45 degrees.

Hell's Backbone routes us through the Aquarius Plateau on some of the most exhilarating twistie turns yet. We all split up and took the turns at our own pace. Much more fun than worrying about rear ending the bike in front of you.

We stopped for lunch in Hanksville at Blondies. I'd describe it as a hole in the wall type joint, except the gas station/convenience store next door really was built into a hole in the rock wall. I can't imagine this place once the 'season' starts. The four people working were overwhelmed not only with our group, but another group of Harley bikers from France. I ordered a Southwestern Chicken Wrap, thinking it would be faster than waiting for a burger. It wasn't, but it was worth the wait.

Our journey soon led us to I-70 East, and mercifully I had a tail wind. No lagging behind the mob today. The last stretch on US 191 was mostly level and straight for miles and miles at a time.

Ritch and I drove back to Arches National Park just outside of Moab. More stunning scenery with the snow covered La Sal Mountains in the background. Carved red sandstone cliffs, arches, spires and monoliths loom from the ground. It looks like God just took a big box of rocks and tossed them to the earth. The sun just peeked out from the overcast skies just before we left for dinner.

Moe had negotiated a generous discount for us at the Moab Brewery for dinner. Thanks Moe. The stout was rich and creamy, and the fresh salmon was cooked almost to perfection. Ritch graciously picked up the tab for everyone. Thanks Ritch.

Greg's (ex's) ex-father-in-law, Lin met us for dinner. He has a rock shop near here, and flies an ultralight. He could be a gold miner straight out of central casting. Quite the character.

I've come to the conclusion that flattened jackrabbits might as well be mile markers in this part of the country.

Lots of pictures from today: