So, I made it to Utah on Sunday. 638 miles spaced over 14 hours. On the motorcycle. Made it all in once piece, too, no less.

The cats did not know what to think. Spike found my tailbag on the floor and took up residence and watched me pack the bike. I packed both more and less than I thought I would, but it was loaded well and the bike still handled well.

The trip was a lot of fun. I left out of Los Alamos on Sunday morning around 6:10 AM. It was about 45 degrees out, and I debated putting the liner in my leather jacket, but I figured it would warm up. 150 miles later, around 9 AM, I was realllly wondering if it ever was going to warm up. I stopped in Pagosa Springs to top off the tank and take a break. The ride so far was pretty good. Getting into Colorado, the road got more twisty and the speed limit jumped to 65. I’ve said it before, but… those Colorado drivers know how to party.

I stopped again in Durango to get a bottle of water and take a break. I really wanted to go north out of Durango and go through the mountains. I had considered stopping in Ouray and camping for the night, but on Wednesday, road conditions were ‘snow, slush, wet’, and I really was not in the mood to deal with that. I’ll give that a shot later in the season for sure though. I’ve been up there a number of times, and I love it. I’d really like to retire in a little town like that. About 20 miles out of Durango I stopped off on top of this hill and took some photos. If you have Quicktime, you can explore a 360 degree panoramic here. I pulled off the highway and rode down this dirt road a ways to get to this vista. The front end of the bike is really light with all the stuff on the back, and I had hell steering it on the gravel. Maybe I’ll consider lowering the front end a tad before I head out again.

I must have missed the ‘Welcome to Colorful Colorado’ sign, or there was not one. But, I spotted this sign and just had to get a shot. I had to stop twice; the first time the ground sloped down too far where I parked and I was nervous about the bike leaning that far with all my gear on it. The bike is 500 pounds without the gear, and I’m just 145, so standing it back up is a bit of a chore for me. No drops on this trip

I stopped again for a break about 30 miles south of Moab. This road was entertaining, as it was 2 lanes with a lot of truck traffic. Having 100 horsepower available -right now- sure makes short work of passing trucks of all sorts. I spotted these clouds trying to spill over the mountains and thought it was pretty neat. I also took a panoramic here, which you can view here. Somewhat random, but… The temps were also coming up, around 65-70. I was getting warm in my leather and had put the summer gloves on. This was also just about the half way point. I was feeling pretty good, and really enjoying the road and wringing out the bike.

I had planned on taking a photo here since I started considering this trip. So, you get a panoramic if you click on the photo. This panoramic turned out really well, I was impressed. I really like this kind of country, the rock just sticks out and shouts at you with the smooth lines and striking color against the blue sky. Moab is pretty popular and just to north, so, I had cell service. Continuing to get warm, and I was getting a tad bothered in all my gear.

I stopped at the ‘Hole in the Rock’, which apparently is some house that was built in the side of a hill here. I didn’t bother going on the tour, but this wacky ‘Jeep’ was parked out front. I don’t think it actually moves from this spot, what do you think? Rather interesting what people create. Raises a lot of questions for me, like, where did they get all those license plates? I pulled out of the parking area and ran through the gears. The canyon ahead was twisty, and the bike was responding well. Nice big grins from me. Lots of motorcycles going the other way, but I wasn’t seeing many going my way.

I made it into Moab, and cruised through town. Lots and lots of Jeeps and motorcycles. I debated parking in with a bunch of Harley’s and trying out some off beat places, but I was pretty hungry and wanted something cold to drink that was not beer. I didn’t think I would find it at a biker bar. I ended up at Denny’s. I had eaten here before, so it was nice to have a familiar setting in this country of strange. I had breakfast! Very good. I spent about an hour sitting inside, cooling off, and relaxing. I will say, though, that long rides on the bike leave me feeling pretty alone, which is good, but then I get these ideas rattling around in my head and no one to bounce them off. I spent part of my time at Denny’s on the phone, just kinda connecting into the rest of the world. Funny how a voice can make distances seem a lot shorter.

I paid my check and went out to the bike. Too hot now to stay in the leathers. I swapped the jacket with my mesh jacket I had packed for just this reason, and opened the vents on my riding pants. I really should have also removed the rain liners out of the pants, but… hindsight is 20/20, right?

The Colorado River runs through Moab here, so I pulled off to take some pictures. Again, I took a 360 panoramic, which turned out so-so. You can check it out here. Such desolation around Moab, so serene. Lot’s of critters about if you take the time to watch for them, clustered around the green areas. I played golf in Moab once before with Chris and Brian, and let me tell you, you couldn’t drive a ball without hitting a rabbit or something.

Headed out of Moab, and back onto the two lane road. Harder to pass here, as traffic coming from I-15 was pretty constant. One guy, who was driving a huge Ford diesel pickup, towing a 25 foot fifth wheel camper, with a trailer on the back with two dirt bikes, a 4 wheeler, and an inordinate amount of coolers, kind of pissed me off. We entered a passing zone, where slower traffic was supposed to go right. There was construction 1/2 mile ahead, and he ignored me and didn’t move over. I passed him on the right, which I hate to do, but what the hey?

I got onto the interstate, and passed a number of speed traps. State troopers seemed to be having a field day. I was running 75, the speed limit, and plenty happy about it, so I was not concerned. I really was not out to break land speed records, especially when I had the bags on the bike. I could not remember where I was supposed to get off the interstate, and my GPS was acting up (stupid tree… that’s a story for another post, from adventure in Wyoming last year). I exited at Green River and pulled into a gas station. There was 2 Harley guys here, and a 3rd on a custom chopper, sitting in the shade of the station drinking some water. None of them were wearing gear at all, little ‘puddin bowl’ helmets strapped to the back seat of the bikes. I worked on the GPS and downed a bottle of water myself. They ignored me, and I didn’t really feel the need to chat with them either. Different worlds here. Green River was not the right exit, so I headed back to the interstate for a few more miles, to exit at State 6 and head north.

Another 2 lane road with lots of trucks. And lots of cops. By my count, I should have received a prize of at least 2 tickets on this road, but the cops just didn’t seem to care. Wacky. I finally arrived in Price, UT, and pulled into a gas station to top up the gas tank.

I looked over as I got off the bike, and spotted a guy on a Ducati ‘sport adventure’ bike (same kind of class as my bike is). He spotted me and gave me ‘the nod’. I filled up the tank and opened a bottle of water as he came over to talk to me. He was head down to Silver City, NM to be a moto-official for a bicycle race. He was coming from Salt Lake, and we chatted about traffic, bikes, and speed traps. He shook his head. “I can’t figure out the speed limit through Salt Lake. They are all doing about Warp 1, and the cops have people pulled over, but no one is slowing down. I don’t get it,” he explained to me. Pretty nice guy. Being on a motorcycle is an interesting thing. All over bikes wave at you. You get used to sticking your left arm out, kind of a little signal of solidarity with your fellow bikers. Everyone waves, no matter what kind of bike they are on, it’s just the thing. Sometimes I don’t talk to other bikers, but most of the time we share a conversation. Kind of neat.

I stopped off in Carbon Canyon, here where the road was curvy and the rock sheer. I took another panoramic, but the lighting conditions were just not conducive to it looking all that well. Check it out here. I stormed back onto the road after this break, really enjoying the corners. There was a long, long passing lane and I was slowly crawling to the front of the line of cars. As the passing lane began to end, I passed a black Chevy pickup, and started coming up on a little white car with new car tags on it. There was a semi truck ahead of it, and suddenly, events unfolded. The truck was kicking up dirt, as the small car was trying to pass him right at the end of the passing lane, and he was forced onto the shoulder. The white car stood on the brakes to get back behind him, and now here I was full on into this corner with a white car growing in front of me. Panic. I mushed the rear brake to check my speed (as grabbing the front one would make the front end dive and change the traction I had available to me in the corner). Pushing hard, but not hard enough to lose traction, all I had left was to see if it would be enough or if I was going to have to get creative. Luckily for me, I slowed to match his speed about 2 car lengths behind. Deep breath. I’m awake now.

Continued through the canyon, enjoying the corners, staying the hell away from the white car. He had no business driving in this canyon, and I was not interested in becoming a statistic. We started to head back downhill after a long run, and a long passing lane opened up. I took this chance to finally blow past the guy and put him firmly behind me. I kept the speed up, doing about 70-75 through the 60-65, all the way down until I finally hit civilization on the interstate south of Provo. I pulled into a gas station, found some shady grass, and flopped down in it. I was feeling nausea and questioning my sanity at riding this far on a bike. Temps were about 85+, and my butt was sweaty and uncomfortable. As I sat there, it dawned on me what was going wrong: blood sugar had tanked. I went into the gas station and bought a Snickers and a bottle of water, and ate it. Another 25 minutes on that tiny strip of grass and I was feeling better. Returned some phone calls, cooling off. Nearby, two cars were stopped, two families in conversation. I heard a young voice call out, “Hi mister motorcycle guy!”, and I glanced over and smiled while I was yakking on the phone. I often have kids wave at me or call things out to me when I am on the bike. What gives?

Finally I got onto the interstate and headed north the final 60 miles to my destination. Warp 1 indeed! I was running 80-85 on the 65mph interstate and I was getting passed like I was standing still. Where is the fire, people? Also: what the hell are you doing in your cars, people? One guy passed me, with his woman in the back seat, massaging his neck while he was driving. A lifted Chevy Suburban blew past me, with a shirtless guy at the wheel, one hand doing something with his pants. Don’t need to know, don’t want to know. So many huge vehicles laden with campers, extra trailers, lunar excursion modules… I mean, I’ll be the first to admit that I take too much with me, but still. Here I was, fully loaded, getting 48 miles to the gallon. How were these guys playing for 6 miles to the gallon and all those toys?

Finally arrived just as the sun was setting. The temperature was starting to dip somewhat, but it was still almost stifling hot. 638 miles, folks. That is a lot of miles to pile onto a bike. She ran smooth the entire way. Moved it into Brian’s garage as he gawked at how big it was, and unloaded the bags from it. They were far heavier than I had thought they were, sheesh. We then went out to eat at Applebee’s, and I had steak. So hungry.

In retrospect, I have learned that I need to work harder at keeping the blood sugar up. I should have also drank about twice as much water. But regardless, 600 miles in a day is doable. I woke up the next day sore, sure, but wanting to get back on the bike. I’ll get that chance in a couple of weeks when I head out from here to Chicago. Yes, Chicago. 1200 miles. I’m going to take 2 or 3 days getting there. I packed the tent and etc, so I am all set. Going to visit Motorola and a number of friends. Should be good times.

But, in the meantime, I’m in Salt Lake City (rather, slightly to the north) doing work for Brian’s laser company. So far so good, I’m really enjoying being back into the electronics thing with, *gasp*, other people around to talk to. I’ve spent the last 6 months on the couch with just the cats to talk to, and I’ve been going crazy. If things go well, if the timing is right with budgets and whatnot, I’ll be coming up here for something more permanent in a month or two. I am really looking forward to the challenge and doing something I love and am good at. Don’t get me wrong, I am good at doing IT support, but… I’ve just lost my desire to do it for a living these days. Too much of being a glorified janitor, trying to save face with pissed off users who just don’t care. Wheee.

So, this trip report respectively submitted for your enjoyment. A long read to get here, but I hope it was worth your while. There are a few more photos in the gallery, and you can check them out here. Enjoy, and drop me a line sometime.