Alaska 2004
 
 

Day 13

July 21

 
 

Since the Silver State Restaurant was pretty good for supper, I think I will give it a whirl for breakfast. Turns out it is a good choice. But then again, it's tough to mess up hen fruit and pig meat. It is going to be a hot one I can tell already and I'm not looking forward to the heat. Highway 50 meanders across the Utah stateline then jumps on I15 for a bit, jumps back off then jumps on I70 until Grand Junction, Colorado.

 
   
  To stay with Highway 50, there is no other apparent option so I resign myself to slabbing it a bit. The combination of the monotony of the slab, the many days on the road, and the heat play a toll on me as I struggle to keep awake. In my earlier riding days I once actually fell asleep for so long in the saddle that when I woke up I didn't know where I was. That is an experience I prefer not to repeat today. So I am forced to stop at much shorter intervals than I would like. When I'm riding on the RedBird or the SweetTreat, I like to go tank to tank. But today, I've just got to take it easy or I know I'll find myself a dead ball in high weeds. So I stop at available rest stops and snap an occasional picture.  
   
 

I start a triage at my next stop – Snickers/Pepsi/cold air. I know the sugar can make me fall off the sugar high, but I'm grasping for something that will stir my tired body up. As I soak up the sugar, caffeine and cool air, the clerk asks me –

“Where have you been?”

When I tell him the same old story – California via Alaska and back to Tennessee – his reaction is the same as the rest. He shakes his head in disbelief and says –

“You must like to ride a lot!”

I just smile and nod my head. I polish off the snack and head back out into the heat. But it does not take long before the battle to overcome sleepiness sets in again. I usually don't stop for lunch when I'm going cross-country, but I figure I might as well today. Maybe an hour out of the saddle will wake me up. I pull off the slab at Green River, Utah and hit the deserted main drag looking for a place to eat and rest. The pickings are mighty slim but I do see a place that is open – Ben's Café. Nobody's in the parking lot, but today it don't matter. If their air conditioning works and the cook's on duty, it'll do nicely.

 
   
 

I flop down at the first table inside the door and take a look at the well-worn menu. Nothing jumps out at me so I pick something safe – the double jumbo bacon burger and onion rings. The feller waiting on me gives me a look like I came from Mars.

“You sure you want that?” he quizzes me.

“Well, I reckon I'll give it a whirl” I tell him.

He walks back to the kitchen and orders it up. It takes a while but I don't mind as I sit there and chill. I don't know how far I will get today, but I've still got 2 extra days in my pocket if I need them. Finally he brings out a big dinner plate and I begin to realize why he thought my order was strange. There on the plate is the mother of all burgers with 4 full slabs of bacon laid across two thick hand-patted patties and enough onion rings to kill a man. This must be the place that the fast food chains come to get their pictures of hamburgers! I'm not sure I can get my big mouth around it, but it sure will be fun trying. I wade into one of the best burgers I have ever had anywhere. Sometimes things just work out in ways you don't expect but really appreciate. By the time I finish the burger and the last onion ring, I'm full as a tick and my battery is back on full charge. I leave him a nice tip and I'm off like a rocket. The sun is sinking on me, so I stop and snap a Utah sunset quickly.

 
   
 

Before long I'm across the Colorado border with a bead on Grand Junction and the end of the slab. I was kind of hoping I would get to Pueblo today, but it just don't look good. As the altitude increases, the wind picks up and the temps start to drop. I've got my heated gear with me but I don't particularly want to stop and put in on in the dark. I'm now headed up to Monarch Pass, one of the tallest passes around at 11,200 feet. Much to my surprise, about half way up there's one of the biggest Bambis I have ever laid eyes on up close and personal. Right then and there I say to myself –

“Big boy, you're done at the next town!”

I stop at the top and snap a picture in the dark, wondering if it will come out. The flag on the back of the Redbird is flying full out and I feel the cold wind seeping into my bones.

 
   
 

I make a mad dash down the mountain looking for the first sign of life and a motel. Fortunately, Salida comes up quick and I find an EconoLodge open. I get a room, unload the RedBird and try to warm up a bit. Next on the agenda is a bite of supper. But it seems they roll up the streets in Salida at night. The only thing open is a Subway so I wander across the street to get a sandwich. The clerk is about excited about her job as somebody facing a firing squad. I finally get my sandwich and find a convenience store to get a coke and some chips. I retire to my room to munch and catch the weather report. It's been a tough day for me, but I ain't seen nothing yet.