West 2009
  
 

Day 15

September 10

  
 
 
  Given the fact that we want to visit Monument Valley, the Arches and North Canyonlands, we've got our 'work' cut out for us. So we are up before sunrise, packing the bikes and getting ready for the road.  
 
 
  Since I'm down to only one headlight bulb on highbeam, Dave has graciously consented to take the point position and watch for the wildlife. Andy will bring up the rear, so hopefully between the two of them I'll have enough extra light for a safety margin. So I do my last room check and soon we are after it.  
 
 
 

It's hard to tell what the weather is like in the pitch darkness, but Dave's cloud lets us know pretty soon. I stop and put on my rain jacket but soon the rain turns into a cold downpour. I've got a choice - I can either get my trousers soaked or pull off and put my rain pants on. I radio Dave -

"Got to pull off and put on my rain trousers. Getting soaked to the gills."

We find a somewhat safe place and I get the deed done. It is a wise decision, because once we head up the mountain, the rain starts to really come down.

 
 
 
 

But the sun is up enough to see, so I switch back into the lead. Uphead is a string of slow moving vehicles, so I drop the Frost in a lower peg and pull out to go around. After about one car length into the pass, the bottom drops out of the skies. I think to myself -

"Well, big boy, you're in a fine pickle now!"

I begin to think I am riding in a river instead of a road. Being hung out in the left lane in a torrential, cold downpour is not my idea of the place to be, so I just hang on the throttle and finally get around the train. I am just thankful that I did not experience any hydroplaning in the process. Once we get down on the flats, the sun shows us some of its glory in spite of the clouds.

  
 
 
  Soon we are back across the border and into Arizona and the Glen Canyon area. And we seemed to have left Dave's cloud far behind.  
 
 
  But my joy is short lived, as that infernal cloud has moved across the highway and is dangling its threatening tenacles toward us.  
 
 
  We have been on the road for a while, so I search my memory banks for breakfast in Page. I spent the night here several years ago when I was exploring the canyons. I remember a Denny's as we come into town and it is still open and in operation. So it wins our business this damp morning.  
 
 
 

It is a nice Denny's and I tell Andy and Dave as we shuck our gear -

"Hey, can't beat this - a Denny's with a view!"

  
 
 
  Breakfast is good and quick and it gives us a chance to dry out a little bit. But we've still got a ways to go, so we do not tarry long. We take highway 98 out of Page which will take us to highway 160. I'm a bit amazed at these tall silos in this semi-arid land, but I figure they must be for sileage since I don't see a lot of wheat or corn growing around here.  
 
 
  This does appear to be hay country, and I see a 'wild life' sign that I don't recall seeing before - one for wild horses.  
 
 
 

As we turn off of highway 160 to highway 163, I radio Dave -

"This is just a warm up for Monument Valley up ahead."

  
 
 
 

I've already snagged a Utah State Line sign, but this one with the background is just too good to pass up.

"Dave, you know I expect to see John Wayne come riding out across the land every time I come through here. Next time you watch old westerns, you'll probably recognize some of the scenery through here."

  
 
 
  There's no place quite like Monument Valley that I know of in the United States. And more westerns were filmed here than on any other location.  
 
 
  But it is also open range country, so you have to keep your eyes open lest you end up with a side of beef on your handlebars.  
 
 
  As we leave the valley, we stop to get the famous shot that usually appears in a lot of motorcycle magazines and calendars.  
 
 
 

We stop in Mexican Hat for a fuel and fluid break, to be greeted by the local gas station dog. Andy tells me -

"You can tell he's an old country dog. He just stays out of folk's way and minds his own business."

I try to pet him, but he's very wary of strangers and refuses my outstretched hand - not in a mean way but in a cautious way. More than likely he's been hurt one time or the other by folks so he's real leary of somebody touching him.

  
 
 
  Across the street is a fine sleeping establishment but it has a few too many steps to my liking. But I reckon it would do in a pinch if you needed a place to hang your helmet.  
 
 
  And just outside of town is the reason that Mexican Hat got it's name. We all have to do a little bit of offroading to get a good shot, but it's worth it.  
 
 
  Soon we make the turn off 163 and onto highway 191 into Blanding - and into road construction. I remember Blanding as I spent the night at the Sunset Inn, advertised as the cheapest place in town. It was an older place, run by a Mormon landscape painter named Gary. The shower wasn't working quite right so he let me have the room for $22. When I asked him where I should eat supper, he directed me to a restaurant just down the road. However, he neglected to tell me that he owned the restaurant too! But the food was fine and room was sufficient, so I really had no complaints.  
 
 
  Dave's cloud is still dangling it's tenacles, but so far we have been dry today. My rainsuit works fine, but I just hate to have to stop and put it on. In fact, I sort of hate to stop at all when I'm rolling down the road.  
 
 
  As we approach Moab proper, we come the almost world famous Hole in the Rock. It is a 5,000 square foot home carved out of the sandstone. Since the original owners passed away, it is now a gift shop and tourist attraction.  
 
 
  The Arches National Park is just north of Moab, so I make a mental note of location of motel we will be staying in and we proceed directly to the front entrance. Once again, our park passes are our key to the wonders inside.  
 
 
  It's a pretty steep climb into the park proper but it provides a lovely view back down the valley looking toward Moab.  
 
 
  And though I see the sign, I don't see any of the bighorns, much to my disappointment.  
 
 
  What appears to be an impenetrable wall of sandstone rises up to greet you on the way in, but the road snakes through a passage without disturbing the natural structures.  
 
 
  This one reminds of the Three Wisemen bearing gifts when seen from a distance.  
 
 
  As we make our way through the unique formations, you tend to let your imagination run as to what you see. This one reminds of a mother holding a child with another child beside her.  
 
 
  A candle with a flame of stone perhaps? Given the hot temperatures right now, that does not seem too far fetched!  
 
 
  This one is known as one of the Windows - a massive arch whose size can only be really appreciated by standing under it.  
 
 
  This is a rare double arch near the Windows.  
 
 
  This one reminds me of a snake that is slowly making it's way across the ground.  
 
 
  This one is known as the Delicate Arch and it probably the most photographed one in the park. It also appears on the Utah stateline sign - funny how I would know that ...  
 
 
  And every now and then, Dave's cloud reappears to remind us that it is never far away.  
 
 
  Again, the distance to this arch disguises just how large it really is.  
 
 
  And around every bend, is another unique formation.  
 
 
  But the clouds are not looking too friendly and this is not exactly a good place to be if a lightning storm comes up suddenly. So we make our way back out the main entrance carefully and mindful of the speed limits, since the park is heavily patrolled.  
 
 
  I call this one the golf ball, all teed up and ready for a giant driver.  
 
 
  The road back down to the front gate is a great set of twisties, but due to the speed limit, restraint is required.  
 
 
  Soon we've left the Arches behind and take left on Highway 313 which will take us to the North Canyonlands National Park.  
 
 
  There is also a 'south' approach but I have never been impressed with the view from there. So we will only be visiting the north part since our time is limited for our stay in Moab.  
 
 
  We take a brief stop to get some better shots than you can get from the road.  
 
 
  To me, this park is even more spectacular than the Grand Canyon, for it seems to stretch far beyond what the eye can see in a rainbow of red and vermillion.  
 
 
 

Andy, having done a lot of research on adventure riding, recognizes the road laid out before us. He says -

"The folks that have riden that road below says it is really something to see".

"Well, you've certainly got the bike for with the V-Strom. Sounds like you need to come back here and check it out!" I suggest.

 
 
 
  I can't help but think how this reminds me of a half of a kitchen sink drain, carved into stone.  
 
 
  At the extreme end of the park, is a place called the Grand View Point Overlook. It is a journey of about 15 miles from where we are and you would not know that there was a canyon anywhere around here.  
 
 
  But there is a good reason it is called the Grand View.  
 
 
  You are standing out on a penisula of land that is surrounded by majestic views of the canyons on three sides.  
 
 
  In almost any direction you look, the almost surreal beauty captures your eyes as long as you wish to look.  
 
 
  As I stand there, I wonder just how you could even explore such a vast rugged, wilderness.  
 
 
  And in the distance, you can make out a lonesome river, making it's way through the valley far away.  
 
 
  We all are simply amazed at what is spread out before our eyes, and Dave snaps some great shots.  
 
 
  And Andy doesn't do too badly himself!  
 
 
  But Dave's cloud is determined not to leave us alone. And since we are about the tallest thing up on this ridge, we decide that discretion is the better part of valor and head for the front gate and lower elevations.  
 
 
  The faster we go, the darker the clouds get and the lightning starts to strike the ground. And in the midst of this, I realize that I have made a tactical error - my fuel is much lower than I would like for the long journey back to Moab.  
 
 
  But fortunately, we are neither struck by the lightning nor do I run out of gas and for this we are thankful. Soon we arrive back in Moab at the Red Stone Inn where we will be spending the evening. The young lady that is checking us in seems to be a bit confused for some reason. I can only assume it is the rugged handsomeness of the three travelers before her. When we get our keys, it turns out that she did get our rooms mixed up. But all we had to do was swap keys and move our stuff, so no harm, no foul.  
 
 
 

And across the street is an excellent restaurant that I remember when Dennis Ryan and I stayed in the area several years ago. Once we are planted in our booth, I ask our waitress -

"What would you recommend for us to order?"

"The country fried steak is really good" she tells us.

"Do you eat it?" I ask with a grin.

"Sure do. One of my favorites."

So with that bit of important business tended to for me, we place our orders and then go on to discuss the ride for tomorrow.

"Well fellers, tomorrow will be the ice cream on the cake. We'll head south, cut across to Colorado and ride the Million Dollar Highway. It's got to be one of the neatest roads in the country."

We also decide to come back across the road and do breakfast here at the Golden Steak Restaurant.

The food comes and it is good and plentiful and tops off a great day of riding.

  
 
 
  Once we finish up, we waddle back across the road carefully to bed down for the night. As I drift off, I reflect that we have only one more day of 'real' riding, then it's back to Denver and on to Nashville for us and back to Scotland for Dave. It's been a great run and I will be sad to see it end.