OPEN THE AUGUST 2010 MENU ON THE RIGHT.
START WITH THE BADLANDS AND READ FORWARD.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
END OF THE ROAD
Monday, August 23
Our final day on the road, from Barstow to Santa Monica. We're road weary, but hardly worn out, though in the Mojave Desert the temps at 102 degrees again challenge our stamina. On I-15 east to I-10 east traffic swells in volume and aggressiveness, snapping my reflexes awake to urban riding conditions. Two hours later we debike at the home of my cousin Linda and husband Mark Rosman in Santa Monica. A week of rest, parties, friends, and relatives begins.
We have ridden 4046 miles across America in 20 days. Sturgis, the Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, Needles Canyon, Custer National Park, Devil's Tower, Rocky Mountain National Park, Glenwood Canyon, Red Mountain Pass, and Grand Canyon have entered our roster of sites seen and places visited on a motorcycle. There are more to come. Let's see...
Our final day on the road, from Barstow to Santa Monica. We're road weary, but hardly worn out, though in the Mojave Desert the temps at 102 degrees again challenge our stamina. On I-15 east to I-10 east traffic swells in volume and aggressiveness, snapping my reflexes awake to urban riding conditions. Two hours later we debike at the home of my cousin Linda and husband Mark Rosman in Santa Monica. A week of rest, parties, friends, and relatives begins.
We have ridden 4046 miles across America in 20 days. Sturgis, the Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, Needles Canyon, Custer National Park, Devil's Tower, Rocky Mountain National Park, Glenwood Canyon, Red Mountain Pass, and Grand Canyon have entered our roster of sites seen and places visited on a motorcycle. There are more to come. Let's see...
Friday, August 27, 2010
THE MOJAVE AND BEYOND
Saturday and Sunday, August 21-22
Onto the Mojave desert we rode Interstate 40 east, in the afternoon with the temps hitting 107. We pulled into a rest stop to escape from the slow roasting oven on the road. Couldn't drink enough water, find enough shade, or breathe enough cool air to feel refreshed. It was "hot, hot, hot!"
Met a trucker, leathery and toothless who wanted to talk Goldwings. Harold owned 3 bikes he said. Rides a lot with his sons. He cautioned me about the California highways with their rain-grooved roads. Steals some of the traction under your tires.
Embiked again into the afternoon sun toward Barstow. We arrive well-done, after 397 roasting miles, check into a hotel, and jump into the swimming pool. We relax in the sun and breeze, reflecting on the distance we have come, and the accomplishment. Tomorrow will be the last day of riding across America. Two up on a Goldwing, coast to coast.
Onto the Mojave desert we rode Interstate 40 east, in the afternoon with the temps hitting 107. We pulled into a rest stop to escape from the slow roasting oven on the road. Couldn't drink enough water, find enough shade, or breathe enough cool air to feel refreshed. It was "hot, hot, hot!"
Met a trucker, leathery and toothless who wanted to talk Goldwings. Harold owned 3 bikes he said. Rides a lot with his sons. He cautioned me about the California highways with their rain-grooved roads. Steals some of the traction under your tires.
Embiked again into the afternoon sun toward Barstow. We arrive well-done, after 397 roasting miles, check into a hotel, and jump into the swimming pool. We relax in the sun and breeze, reflecting on the distance we have come, and the accomplishment. Tomorrow will be the last day of riding across America. Two up on a Goldwing, coast to coast.
ITALIAN BIKERS IN THE DESERT
Sunday, August 22
After a restful night at a hotel outside Grand Canyon, we rode south on Rt 64, to pick up Interstate 40 going west. Hot weather, flat Arizona plains, and our sights were set on reaching Los Angeles. Looming ahead was the desert, and the certainty that temps would be three figures.
We took a short detour onto Route 66 to eat lunch at a classic diner in the town of Williams. Several groups of motorcyclists were there enjoying the food.
Gassing up in Kingman, home of Andy Devine, we observed a dozen motorcycles, a mixed batch of Harley's, BMWs and Goldwings, that all sported Italian flag and Route 66 decals. Enthusiasm for the travel, and for our white Goldwing promptly started parallel conversations in English and Italian.
Claudia told us that they live east of Rome, and her father, Testa, is a scooter dealer. The two of them were riding a shiny yellow Goldwing, and the others were riding bikes rented in Newark with San Francisco as their destination. We all marveled at the meeting, and extended invitations to come visit, then off they went.
We embiked south on Interstate 40, passing the Black Mesa, toward Needles, California and the Mojave Desert.
After a restful night at a hotel outside Grand Canyon, we rode south on Rt 64, to pick up Interstate 40 going west. Hot weather, flat Arizona plains, and our sights were set on reaching Los Angeles. Looming ahead was the desert, and the certainty that temps would be three figures.
Gassing up in Kingman, home of Andy Devine, we observed a dozen motorcycles, a mixed batch of Harley's, BMWs and Goldwings, that all sported Italian flag and Route 66 decals. Enthusiasm for the travel, and for our white Goldwing promptly started parallel conversations in English and Italian.
Claudia told us that they live east of Rome, and her father, Testa, is a scooter dealer. The two of them were riding a shiny yellow Goldwing, and the others were riding bikes rented in Newark with San Francisco as their destination. We all marveled at the meeting, and extended invitations to come visit, then off they went.
We embiked south on Interstate 40, passing the Black Mesa, toward Needles, California and the Mojave Desert.
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| Father and daughter crossing America on a yellow Goldwing |
GRAND CANYON
Saturday, August 21
After seeing the Four Corners yesterday, we embiked on US Rt 160 west. Simply cruising through the towns like Mexican Water, Kayenta, and Cow Springs, imparts a sense of a subsistence economy going strong in the desert. We rode by Red Mesa and passed up Monument Valley, the Navajo Tribal Park, though we were impressed by the Elephant Feet, a case of nature imitating life near Tonalea.
Passed the night in Tuba City, Arizona at a hotel on the Navajo Reservation. Saturday morning saw us on the road to Grand Canyon. Rt. 64 heading east off of US 89, runs right to the south rim, where we enjoyed an afternoon breathtaking at the canyon's edge.
Barbara and I were first-timers to Grand Canyon, both carrying around endless images from books, movies and TV. However familiar we were with pictures, seeing the spatial geology of GC prompted physical and emotional responses from us both. Looking 10 miles across in full sunlight, with my eyes focused at infinity called forth an exalted stimulation, a slight increase in heart rate, breathing the clean air deeply, followed by a pervasive sense of well being. Mountains, great heights and vast vistas have always generated these feelings for me, as does motorcycling. A physiologic and psychologic response to nature to space and motion that connects to the spiritual heights.
After seeing the Four Corners yesterday, we embiked on US Rt 160 west. Simply cruising through the towns like Mexican Water, Kayenta, and Cow Springs, imparts a sense of a subsistence economy going strong in the desert. We rode by Red Mesa and passed up Monument Valley, the Navajo Tribal Park, though we were impressed by the Elephant Feet, a case of nature imitating life near Tonalea.
Passed the night in Tuba City, Arizona at a hotel on the Navajo Reservation. Saturday morning saw us on the road to Grand Canyon. Rt. 64 heading east off of US 89, runs right to the south rim, where we enjoyed an afternoon breathtaking at the canyon's edge.
Barbara and I were first-timers to Grand Canyon, both carrying around endless images from books, movies and TV. However familiar we were with pictures, seeing the spatial geology of GC prompted physical and emotional responses from us both. Looking 10 miles across in full sunlight, with my eyes focused at infinity called forth an exalted stimulation, a slight increase in heart rate, breathing the clean air deeply, followed by a pervasive sense of well being. Mountains, great heights and vast vistas have always generated these feelings for me, as does motorcycling. A physiologic and psychologic response to nature to space and motion that connects to the spiritual heights.
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| Barbara enjoying the view at Grand Canyon |
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| The picture we hoped for, thanks to a Chinese tourist. |
Thursday, August 26, 2010
COLORADO PLAINS & FOUR CORNERS
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| On these plains, red predominates |
Friday, August 20th.
We bunked in Durango last night, after a rich dinner of "Seriously Texas Barbeque."
In the morning we embiked west taking US 160 through Cortez, and south to find the Four Corners, where Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico meet.
The countryside presents itself both flat and jagged. Long stretches of undulating plains, punctuated often by cliffs, promonitories, ridges and upthrust rocks of many sizes. A sense of age pervades this desert prompted by the geologic souvenirs of eons gone by.
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| Jagged intrusions are normal around here. |
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| A young acrobat crossing state lines. |
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| These boots don't lie. |
When people observed this young acrobat perform, they cleared the circle for this picture.
Barbara stepped up to the challenge of being in 4 states simultaneously. It's plain that the boots speak the truth.
MEETING BY THE YANKEE GIRL MINE
Thursday, August 19
These red mountains were full of silver once. Now a scenic turnout offers a view of the Yankee Girl mine site. These folks said hello and struck up a lively conversation about New York, Colorado, Goldwing motorcycles, riding horses and the vital beauty of these mountains.
These red mountains were full of silver once. Now a scenic turnout offers a view of the Yankee Girl mine site. These folks said hello and struck up a lively conversation about New York, Colorado, Goldwing motorcycles, riding horses and the vital beauty of these mountains.
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| Al Cannon from the Circle K Ranch with Ernie Hammer from Wild Horse. |
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| A Yankee Girl enjoying the view. |
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| Another horizon beckons with the song of the hills. |
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