2009 Coast to Coast and then some.

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12,000 miles. Coast to Coast and then some.

I AM HOME

I look forward to finishing the last post. I will place everything in chronological order, add links, and video soon. But now this weary traveler must rest. Thank you all for your comments along the way. Today was a 600 mile day!

From What Was, to What Is.

I woke up in Billings, Montana and was determined to put on some miles in an eastward direction. Best laid plans and all… Haven’t figured out if I am George or Lenny. At times I guess I am either. I was headed East when I saw a sign for Pictograph Cave. Of course I had to turn off. That was my first diversion of the day. In the cave are some very faded and worn paintings on the walls.

It was a shame to see that this place had eroded so badly. As I spoke to the Ranger, she told me that excavation here was abandoned in 1941 because of the war and everything has been left exposed since. I told her I was on my way to see Pompey’s Pillar and The site of the Battle of Little Bighorn. She mentioned there was a Pow Wow at the Crow Council right by Little Bighorn.
Here is, Pompey’s Pillar.

To look at it from afar you may think, ‘What’s the big deal?’ But carved into the side of this large rock formation is the only physical evidence which still lies in the path of the Lewis and Clark expedition. William Clark carved his name in the stone.

The story of the Lewis and Clark adventure is tremendous. If you haven’t read Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose you are missing out on a hell of a story.
From there I went to the site of The Battle of Little Bighorn more commonly known as Custer’s Last Stand. The marker with the dark text is where Custer last stood.

There are markers placed all over the battlefield depicting where soldiers and native warriors fell to their deaths.

This is a memorial listing all the names of those who died during this fierce battle.

Te storm in the background of this photo was headed right toward the location of the Pow Wow.

I arrived at the Pow Wow not knowing what to expect or if I would even be welcome there. I had asked the Ranger at the battlefield if it was OK to stay at the Pow Wow. She seemed hesitant to say yes. So I rode passed the many tee pees looking for a spot where I could pitch my tent. As I rode through the grassy parking area a guy called out, “Where are you from?” I said New York City. He replied, “Brooklyn!” This is Cliff. He let me pull my bike under his tarp just before that storm let loose. Cliff is a Native, former Golden Gloves Champ, former Outlaw Biker, and all around nice guy.

Presently Cliff is the Cultural Director for the Redhawk Native American Arts Council in Brooklyn.
http://redhawkcouncil.org
I pitched my tent next to his camper and felt right at home. At 7pm the opening ceremonies began.



The dancing went on through the night. People from tribes around the United States and Canada come here to compete in this contest.


I wish I could remember this man’s name. He is a chief, a politician for his nation, and he is a funny guy.

The first day’s ceremonies ended around 1am. The sights and sounds were overwhelming.

There were young ones running around in packs shooting each other throughout the night with pellet guns. The next morning Cliff stopped one of these posse’s and asked if the pellets hurt. He got a mixed response. So Cliff blindfolded himself and told the kids to shoot him. It was hilarious!

I stayed to watch the morning parade then moved on.




I left only to ride 200 miles in the rain. Weary, I got a hotel in Sturgis. The party is long gone, but I am going to check out the town now. Then it is Eastbound and down. When I get home I will upload some video of the dances.

Happy Birthday Bonnie!

My Bonnie turned 10,000 miles yesterday. And what an appropriate place to to turn the digits on the odometer as I traversed the Beartooth Highway at 10,000 feet. Amazing! 10,000 @ 10,000! It’s the highest highway in the lower 48 states.

So Happy Birthday Bonnie! Two months and Ten Thousand miles old.
I was in Idaho when I last posted. I camped out in Chaliss then took a windy road through Idaho which traveled along various rivers that had cut their way through the scenic mountains. I stopped to take a photo of this bluff. It reminded me of how the indians would corral buffalo and drive them over the edge in the hunt.

In the river below I noticed this red color. At first I thought someone may have dropped something in the river. Then I saw them move upstream. They were salmon!

I passed through Idaho City, an old gold mining town.

The lady in the tourist office described this as the house with the attic that threw up all over the yard.

There was an old cemetery in town. Many of the old markers were made of wood and burned in a fire years ago.

It was a long ride between towns way up in the mountains, but a nice ride.



Here is something funny. The first picture I took this day was of the bluff that reminded me of the old indian hunts. The last picture I took that day 250 miles later was of an actual bluff where indians used to drive the buffalo.

Then next part of the trip is the only overlap from last year’s trip. This is Big Hole where there was a ferocious battle between the Nez Perce and the US Cavalry.

Then I rode down the Polaris Highway where I dug up crystals last year. As I was about 10 miles from the campsite, a bear ran across the road in front of me! He was a young bear with sandy colored hair. Could it have been a grizzly? I mentioned the bear to a parks employee the following day. She said it was most likely a black bear. It would be extremely rare for a Grizzly to be in these parts. The black bear often have light colored hair. Then I showed her my photos. She said, “I’m no bear expert, but I think I have to tell my boss we have a possible Grizzly sighting!”

Since my tent blew away in the storm I was forced to make my own shelter.

And I cooked up another healthy meal on the road.

Look at all those bales of hay.

I rode through Nevada City. It’s a little hoaky but cool. See it’s not really an old town. It’s a compilation of homes that were saved by a family and brought to this site. Some of the houses are from the old Nevada City. What intrigued me about the town was that Little Big Man (great movie) was filmed here as was Missouri Breaks with Brando and Nicholson. Besides, I wanted to give a mean storm some time to blow by. So I paid the 8 bucks and checked it out.



I know a thing or two about old vehicles, but this old truck had a name I was not familiar with.


Here was the storm I was hoping to avoid. Right where I wanted to be at the western entrance to Yellowstone.

The campgrounds at Yellowstone were full so I camped out at some mosquito infested site outside the park. I made up for it with a nice T-bone over the open fire. Beats Dinty Moore!
I didn’t spend a lot of time in Yellowstone. Last year I saw all but the northernmost area. So I took that route which brought me further East.

This is at Mammoth Springs. When I came here in 2002, this was the steamiest, smelliest part of the park. It seems to have dried up considerably.


This is a petrified tree. It’s still standing!



And of course there was buffalo!


And a bald eagle.

Then it was on the the Beartooth Highway where I began this post.
Here is Bonnie on her birthday high in the mountains.

It’s really beautiful up here. So clean and fresh above the treeline.

It’s been 5 weeks on the road. I have seen some amazing things but I am looking forward to getting home. Still a lot of miles to cover. But NYC here I come!

“Eureka! I have found it!”

I had the opportunity to post once since I last left, but I was in a foul mood. It would have been ugly and there is no place for ugly on nygumbo. I’m talking mean ugly. I hit some weather that just warped my whole outlook to a very dark place. I was cold and wet and feeling gloomy. I left Lassen Volcano and hit some bad weather along route 299 headed west. This road was difficult to ride with big trucks and bad drivers. Many parts were overgrown with shrubbery encrusted with despair.

This part of the country is Bigfoot country. The people here must have something to cling to or the suicide rate would bring them to extinction.

I ended up riding through fog with nearly zero visibility, adding to my miserable state of mind.

My choice for reaching the coast…Eureka, California. Sounds good right? Ha! When Archimedes said, “Eureka! I have found it!”, he most certainly was not speaking of Eureka, California the armpit of the Northwest Coast. There is no coast. It’s a swamp of sludge along side a town filled with broken dreams and wandering souls in search of what should have been. I ended up having to get a crappy hotel for the night. I needed to warm my worn down body. I was so sure I would make it to the Redwood Forest this day. But it left hope for another day. And things would be glorious from that day on.

The Redwood Forest is a mystical place. A place from a Tolkien novel where you are dwarfed by these towering giants.

I took Bonnie on 3 mile dirt road, deep into the woods.

And I wandered in and about amongst these wise old grandfathers of the forest.



And then, the coast. It was one month to day I left New York City that I touched the Pacific.


The coast was an ultimate destination but not where I wanted to spend my time. With the coast comes crowds and solitude was my favorite flavor. I wanted a greater taste. I rode northwest along the Smith River.

Having never been dammed, the Smith River is one of the cleanest and clearest rivers in the states. It is a natural beauty. As I rode along one of the bends I noticed a bridge ahead with what looked like a rope swing attached. I turned onto the small road where the bridge was and climbed underneath. I would not be disappointed!

I’ll be back in a bit. I have to pack up and check out, then I’ll sit in the lobby to finish the post.
OK. All checked out. Have you ever stayed at a Red Lion Hotel? These places are nice. I have walked in and asked about rooms before. In fact in Eureka I did this and was told a room would cost me $132!!! I booked it online in Boise for $60, but I get ahead of myself.

So I had fun swinging on a rope. A lot more fun than a lot of people have had swinging from a rope in this Wild West. Just next to the bridge were wild blackberries to provide a yummy snack before moving on.

Now it was on to Oregon. If you read about my trip last year you know that I didn’t care for Oregon. This was mostly do to the people. That didn’t change much this time, but there were a few colorful characters. Meet Mike James. He is the one in the cowboy hat.

As I ordered some fish tacos here in Kirby, Oregon home of Jamie Farr, I asked the waitress if she knew anywhere I might camp near or about Crater Lake. Well Mike interjected. Only Mike can’t seem to remember things like the names of places. There seems to be a lot of cobwebs that need cleaning in Mike’s attic. It didn’t seem the staff at Nacho Mama’s were keen on this fella. But Mike saddled up to the stool next to me and we were talking like it or not. Mike told me about camping in the woods on the way to the Lake. He said he camped in the woods there once. The only problem was there was some people being a little too loud for his taste. He said one shot from the 12 gauge took care of that. Mike used to ride too. He was hit by a woman driver and his back was broken in the accident. He said he told the woman, “Don’t worry I ain’t gonna shoot you, but I am gonna blast the hell out of your car.” It seems Mike likes his guns. Then he leaned over and whispered to me, “I think that chick’s a lesbian. It’s vogue you know.” I smiled. He than asked me, “You know what vogue is? Then, “You ain’t one of them gays are you, cause I’ll punch you right in the face! No, I wouldn’t hit ya, but you’re not are ya?” The funny thing is, I grew up in Greenwich Village in NYC and Mike is more colorful than most raging queens I’ve encountered. He’d fit right in. I think they’d like him. As I took that photo of Mike on my way out he screamed, “Ride on you Irish bastard!”
I ended up pulling off onto a dirt road into this forest for the night.

Here is where I spent the night.

I had turned into a couple dirt roads before choosing this one. In the morning I got back to the highway and made a left. In the dark I was disoriented. I should have made a right. And because it was dark, I didn’t recognize anything now that it was light. I rode a good 12 miles before I realized what I had done. But it all worked out I ended up finding these beautiful waterfalls that I had passed in the night.

There was another interesting thing I passed in the dark. I had heard Oregon’s laws were different than that of the rest of the states regarding a particular matter. That was confirmed when I passed this marijuana farm right off the side of the highway. I would have walked up to the fence and snapped a picture of the garden, but there was a no trespassing sign and the stories of “trigger happy” Mike still lingered in my head.

I was finally back in unchartered territory. I passed this gorge in the small town appropriately named Cascade Gorge. I stopped in to a place to eat and was greeted by a waitress who had that Oregon attitude that makes me loathe this state. Fortunately the natural wonders outweigh the assholes. I did not stay at the restaurant. A premade sandwich was enough to keep me going.

I am going to rush things a bit. I have to get going. Next stop Crater Lake. Oregon is full of post volcanic splendor.



I made a quick stop at this old lava tube but I was too late for the tour.

Missing that tour was a blessing. Had I gone on the tour I would never have gotten to this place below before dusk. This place blew my mind.

These are the Painted Hills in Oregon. My motivation for coming here was that they had found prehistoric fossils here. I had no idea that I would see this.




Wow! It’s one of the most incredible sights I have ever seen. As you look at it you can’t believe it’s real. That night I slept in the cold mountains of Oregon. (there is a funny story that involves a Billy Bob and my personal fears, but I don’t have time for it right now).

Then next morning I went to another prehistoric fossil site. This one had a blue hue.


Then I found some old pictographs in this canyon.


These are actual tracks from the Oregon trail left by the covered wagons that first explored this part of the country.

Then I had a awesome ride through Hells Canyon.

Well folks I left out some details because the hour is getting late. I am in Boise Idaho now and headed toward Montana. I just checked the mileage and I don’t think I’ll make it to Montana tonight as I had hoped. Oh well, tomorrow I will make one of my few overlaps from last year and visit crystal mountain for some digging. Later my friends!

The Big Boy by Silky

This is the saw I have been using and sharing with people at campsites. I can’t say enough about what a great tool this is. At first I thought I was overdoing it bringing a saw and a tomahawk on this trip. Packing light is an important part of motorcycle travel. But I am glad to have both of these tools with me. I’ll show you why. The following video is the saw in action. In less than a minute I have a nice size log which will burn for hours.

The BigBoy by Silky.

http://www.silkysaws.com/

A Lassen Learned

As usual I overextended my planned mileage. I thought I would make it to the Redwood Forest. I was confident of this after speaking to Lenny. But Lenny took the fast road. I can’t blame him. The dude’s been on the road, (sea), for over 90 days already. When I wrote last I was just south of Lake Tahoe. The place ended up making me nuts. The lake itself is beautiful. If you have a boat and water skis it would be great! 

If you are just riding through however, it’s a nightmare. Aside from the log jam of traffic, the roads have to be repaired every year once the snow melts so they have flaggers stopping you for long periods of time.

There is a river that offshoots from the lake, the Truckee River, where people innertube and raft. It looks like a blast, but I had no time for that. And that’s more fun with friends. I am not sure what this is in the picture below. I guess it’s some type of silo, but I have never seen one this shape before.

I remember learning about geography as a young student. Even now looking at a road map, it’s easy to figure out where everything is. It’s simple to to follow the lines and get from place to place. But no one tells you about the ups and downs. I am not talking about emotions, I’m talking about elevation. On a bike this is important because the temperature variations are extreme. Riders Beware! It gets cold at 9000 feet.

The Lassen Volcano blew up in 1914. It was active for 3 years. It’s at the southern end of the Cascades. I mention this because I was at the highest summit (over 9000 feet high) when the phone rang. It was my brother. He asked if I was in the Sierra’s and I honestly wasn’t sure anymore. I had been riding northwest through the mountains all day. It turns out the Sierras had ended and the Cascades had begun. Below is some thermal activity. Sulfur, smell like farts.

Man, it got cold as I got closer to the volcano. I even stopped to play in the snow.

It was getting late and I was on the dark side of the mountain now. The temperature was dropping and I had to get to the campsite. Finally, after many visually spectacular distractions I got to the campground. I rode around looking for a spot. Every site was full! Bad, bad, bad! Then, as I was making the final loop around the “tents only” section, a woman waved me down (happens all the time). She said they were leaving, they’d already paid for the night, and it was mine if I wanted. They even had a nice sized fire going which was great because I was cold from the ride. And by chance, the lady’s name was Bonnie.

That night was a full moon.

I passed my saw around the campsite. It cuts wood like butter, so when I saw people in need I had to share. In doing so I met a guy from Queens who works for a Hungarian TV show. He was at the site next to me with his girlfriend from Hungary. Then this morning I heard this guy chopping away with a hatchet. I lent him the saw too. He was camping with his wife. They are from Marin County. His name is Marcus. We talked for a while this morning. Good people.

I hadn’t planned on writing today. But it was cold this morning and I needed to warm up. I found a coffee shop and logged on. Later I will definitely make it to the Redwoods.

Sierra Nevada (it’s not just a beer)

In my last post I left off in Rhyolite, a ghost town in Nevada. 

This is what’s left of the old bank.

Here is one of the mines which supplied the town with it’s profits. I could feel the cool air emanating from the depths of the mine.  Most ghost towns are abandoned mining towns. Once the ore ran out the people left, leaving an empty town behind.

There were piles of old cans and debris from days gone by.

I guess some artist’s community decided Rhyolite would be a good place for a sculpture garden. There were a number of sculptures around, this one being my personal favorite.

Unfortunately I had to cross Death Valley to get into California. Last year when I went there it was 117 degrees in the shade. This time in was a balmy 115.

This thermometer was the only stop I made in Death Valley having seen it last year. After crossing in the blistering heat I got my first vision of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was a surreal sight as the smoke from a fire to the South had blown into the valley. I decided to pull over to take a picture on what I thought was solid ground. WRONG! As soon as I hit the sand I knew I was going down. I even said it out loud, “Going down!”

Fortunately I was able to pick the bike up myself after unstrapping the rear bag. This was something I had wondered about. I was pleased to know I can do it on my own. I mean. it’s not the kind of thing you want to practice. The photo that was the cause for the fall turned out less than spectacular.

I stayed at a campsite that night. At the campsite I met a nice gentleman from across the pond named John. Besides being a survivor of the “Big C”, John survived a hit and run while riding his Harley. Before that John was an avid rider. He still has an old Norton in his garage. We talked for a while and John gave me an extra token he had for the camp shower. Thanks John. Below is sunset from the campsite.

As I rode up route 395 I saw a small road that said ’scenic loop’. I took it. It brought me to a beautiful vista 9000 feet up into the Sierras amongst the snowcapped mountains.

Then I walked down into an earthquake fault. That was cool, literally. Like the mine I could feel the cool air from the deep in the crevice. There was still snow packed down in a part of the fault where I dared not venture.

I may be a bit to confident at times. I keep taking poor Bonnie on dirt roads despite my fall in the sand. 

This dirt road lead to a meteor crater.

Lake mono is a bizarre place. It is a salt water lake with a buoyancy 3 times that of the ocean.

I visited another ghost town called Bodie. This one was on my list last year as well. It’s one of the best preserved and biggest ghost towns.

I ended up crossing the Nevada border to camp last night. I found what looked like a nice site by a lake.

It looked like like a good site, but next to me was trouble. Trouble of the noisy kind. Meet Simka, she looks nice enough, but what an asshole. This dog barked at me constantly and barked at everything else through the night, and bright and early before 6am this morning. And during the night while Simka slept, one of the youngins next door awoke and cried for what seemed like hours. Ugh! Didn’t sleep well at all. I couldn’t get back to sleep after the dog alarm so I got up and moved on.

I began my trek west across the Sierra mountains. I stopped to take a photo when another guy on a bike pulled up. His name is Lenny and he lives in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. He is on a hell of an adventure himsellf. He bicycled West to Washington. Then hopped on a sailboat around the state into the Columbia River. He then sold his bike and bought a small motorcycle to head back east. Very impressive. He keeps a blog as well.

http://myfriendlenny.blogspot.com

So now I am just south of Lake Tahoe in a cafe with WIFI. I hope to make into the redwoods tonight for a good night sleep. If all goes to plan, tomorrow I will wind my way back East.

Just got to California

Hey there nygumbo fans! I thought I would have time to post in Vegas, but that didn’t work out. I was only able to pay tribute to the Mook. Now I am camped out in California amongst the Sierra Mountains and I am able to get a wireless signal from a nearby radio station. So I am back. When I left off I was in Bryce Canyon, so let’s return there. There is so much to share. At Bryce I did my laundry, I posted, I showered. Then I went to see the rest of the canyon. I have to admit the first few stops at Bryce Canyon are exceptional. The other stops are far away and not nearly as scenic, but I had to check it out. I saw this jive turkey. I have seen a few turkeys but they are not very good subject for photos. They are quick to run away. I was rather annoyed at having spent so much time at Bryce. The latter part was anticlimactic and it looked like storms were inevitable. Not that it’s not an amazing place. It is. But I was hoping to be at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon before dark so I was beginning to stress a bit. I left Bryce with worry on my mind. On the way was Red Canyon. I felt the need to fly by, but I just can’t help stopping everywhere. I get real caught up in the natural beauty of this part of the country. I’d like to come back in December and decorate this big sucker. As I was riding away I passed this place Mugwumps. I turned around to take a photo. Besides, the storms ahead were making it cold and I had to put on a couple layers. As I was taking this picture a lady came up from behind me and asked, “What is it about that place that people want to take a picture?” I said “It’s tacky.” She said, “It’s mine.” Oops!  So now I was cold, and stressed about the time. I started flying south toward Arizona. I realized I wasn’t enjoying myself. It felt like work. Then I saw something on the side of the road, a tree that I wanted to photograph. I pulled over. I started noticing all the flora around me. It was growing out of this bright orange sand. All sorts of bizarre plant life. I calmed down and began to take the time to smell the roses (and take some pictures). There’s my Bonnie on the horizon. There were these strange patches of grass that would grow in a circle. And this colorful little cactus. So mother nature taught me a lesson. I needed to relax and take it all in. If I didn’t make it to the canyon, so what? It’s not as if I had a reservation. So I moved on at a different pace and with a better attitude. I rode by this small canyon about 8 miles north of Kanab, Utah and felt the need to investigate. I found out most of the area is leased by an organization called Best Friends. They care for animals. It’s a remarkable place. The canyon itself is beautiful and it’s valleys are lush. It’s called Angels Canyon. The shades of green between the white and orange rock formations are innumerable. I’ve never seen so many shades of green! It was like the garden of Eden and I lost all care for time. Of course getting around here meant taking my Bonnie on another dirt road. Here are some of the horses they care for. I saw this garden with wind chimes and small markers on the ground. I thought it was some artist’s creation. It was very Zen. Upon further investigation I discovered it was a pet cemetery. This is a memorial for all the animals lost in Hurricane Katrina. For those that don’t know, the “Gumbo” in Nygumbo was my dog’s name when I was a child. I think Gumbo would have liked it here. Here is an old mule spending the twilight of his life in style. It was time to leave this little piece of heaven on earth and head to the Grand Canyon. Now there was no way I would make it there before dark. And, as I have mentioned before, I only have a high beam headlight. This would certainly be most annoying to all I come across and indeed it was. This one guy ahead of me started blinking his lights when I came up from behind. Then he put is hazards on. Finally he slowed down and signaled me to pass him. Then he blasted me with his high beams. I twisted the throttle and moved on quickly. After a long cold ride at an elevation of  8000 feet I arrived at the entrance to the North Rim to find a sign that read “CAMPSITE FULL”. I couldn’t believe it. I was under the impression that the North Rim was not a popular destination. WRONG! I remebered seeing a campsite 8 miles back. I went there to find the same sign, FULL. Then a pick up truck pulled in. It was the same guy who I had annoyed so much with my high beam. I apologized immediately. It turns out he is the host of the campsite. He said don’t worry about the light and he was sorry that he could not put me up for the the night. But he said if I don’t mind “dry camping” there was a dirt road I could pull off on and camp in the woods for free. Free is right about where my budget needs to be right now, so that was great. I drove down this dirt road for about a mile and found this nice spot where someone had already built a fire pit and laid out pine cones, kindling, and wood for a fire. I took the campsite photo the following day after I napped from my sunrise excursion. I saw on a sign that if I rode down that dirt road another 3 miles I could get to the East Rim of the canyon. So I decided to get up at sunrise and check it out. The sunrise itself was beautiful but there wasn’t much canyon. I guess if there had been the National Parks Service would have grabbed this spot as well. After a nap I awoke again and headed for the North Rim at last. Waking up to nothing but the sound of wind blowing through the trees is a treat. Have you ever watched a birch tree as the wind hits it. The birch has little round  shaped leaves, each one doing it’s own little happy dance as it glistens in the morning sun. Together they create a swooshing symphony you can hear as the winds travel through the thick forest. First I scoped out the area around the lodge. When it comes to canyon views, these vultures have it made. After the lodge view I went to see the rest of the vistas. You have to drive down a 20 mile road to see the rest of the North Rim. While bouncing from one lookout to the next I met a family from France who was traveling with a couple who had recently moved to Page, Utah. It started when I offered to take a photo of them. Then they took one of me and so forth. I continued bumping into them from place to place and we would talk and take pictures. This picture Christine took of me reminded me of my friend Thierry’s photos. He often turns the camera at a diagonal angle. Have a look at my links page to see Thierry’s work. It’s damn good. It was funny, I kept saying goodbye to these people I met thinking it would be the last time, but then we would see each other again at the next lookout.

Learning from my experience the previous day I stopped to have a look at the local flora. The families I had met must have passed me while I was taking these pictures. I noticed their camper stopped ahead of me in the middle of the road. Then I noticed everything turned orange. A lightning strike had caused a fire creating this apocalyptic image as the smoke came before the sun. There was one last lookout left and of course I saw everyone again and we shared our enthusiasm about the vision created by the fire. Jean Bernard offered me a Dr.Pepper. I hadn’t had one in many years. And as we took our last look at the canyon we noticed, what I found out to be, dust devils. Little tornados that blow up debris in the open valleys. It is very much like when you see the Tazmanian Devil show up in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. We saw one then another. There ended up being 4 all together in the valley far below us. Then I noticed something else. A rainbow appeared over the canyon. A perfect way to end this time at this amazing setting. So we said our final farewells and I gave them the address to this blog since they were contributers having taken my picture. I stopped a couple more times. Once I pulled my Bonnie to the edge of the canyon. I stopped again to talk to some of the fire fighters who had gathered at a lookout. They were distraught. They had no idea how they were going to get to this fire. It was not accessible by any roads, so they met to plan their attack. Then 50 miles later, what do you know? There was the camper again as my new friends were admiring the Vermillion Cliffs during the setting sun. When I mentioned my plan to find a forest road to pull off and camp on, Lloyd from Page offered to have me stay with them. He said there may be some of those forest roads ahead, but there is no forest. It’s all desert and cliffs. It was getting dark and there was no way I was going to find a road as I envisioned it. And it was a Friday evening. All campsites were surely filled. So I joyfully accepted the offer. These are some great folks indeed. I met up with them in Page and they set me up to sleep in the camper. We sat around, talked and had a couple beers. We were all tired so we called it a night. The next morning I awoke at sunrise again. The previous night Lloyd had shown me some photos of the views from his back yard. Truly impressive. I had to see for myself. This is what they wake up to every morning! There is a golf course behind the house then a drop so this view is theirs for keeps. Not too shabby! And here’s the whole gang! I can’t say enough how grateful I am for their hospitality and quality company. Thank you all so very much! From left to right we have, Lloyd, Sarah, Christine, Jean-Bernard, Maude, and your truly, Pat. There is more to the journey but his blogging takes time and I need to crash. I’ll try to get everything up to date in the morning. Goodnight all!

NEXT DAY

Good Morning Everybody! I will just continue this post instead of starting another. I heard from Sarah. She told me I left my sandwich in the fridge of the camper. I realized that soon enough as I rode through blazing heat the next morning. She also informed me that the aforementioned North Rim blaze had closed that 20 mile rode of scenic views to the public. It’s all in the timing! So after a great night in Page with the gang I took their recommendation to backtrack just a bit to a place called Horseshoe Canyon. I am glad I did. Pretty cool huh? Then I stopped at the dam which creates Lake Powell. Remember I camped at Lake Powell the week before. That was at a place called High at the opposite end of the lake. This is the Glen Canyon Dam. I don’t know how I feel about dams. They destroy so much but then create a whole new interesting environment. I can say, I enjoyed my time along and in Lake Powell. Someday I’d like to go out there on a boat. Hey Nikki! Are you still doing that? So I continued the ride. Today was hotter than many of my days during this trip. I came across another spot Lloyd had recommended. It’s called the Paria Pass(or something like that). It is a 5 1/2 mile dirt road that brings you to an old movie set. Actually it’s the recreation of an old movie set since the first one burnt down. I figured since it’s all fake who cares if it’s the original fake town or another. Besides, the mountainous terrain had amazing multicolored stripes from the many layers created over millions of years. Beautiful.

So at about 4 miles down this road I came to a hill. This hill was eroded with cuts and grooves, potholes and loose debris. I figure with me on it my bike and I combine for at least 800 pounds. So of course I went for it! Holy Shit!!! To date this was the greatest challenge of my riding life. How I stayed upright is completely unbelievable. My guardian angels must have been holding on tight flapping their wings with all their might to keep me up. I was sliding, and fishtailing, and bouncing down this hill. Scared the hell out of me! When I got to the bottom I was a nervous wreck, sweating profusely. At the bottom of the hill I looked down at my mileage gauge. It read 666. I decided to turn back.

But I’ll tell ya…had anyone been watching what I had done, they’d be saying, That is one crazy bad ass mother fucker!

So thanks for that recommendation Lloyd. It truly tested my skills.

I decided to go check out the Pink Corral Sand Dunes. Those photos I had taken of the plants on the side of the road with the orange sand are adjacent to these dunes so i thought it would be cool. It turned out it was a costly state park, not included in my annual parks pass and you had to hoof it. I decided to pass. I did creep up over a hill to have a look though.

I found this odd looking whatchacallit along the way.

Then it was through Zion Canyon. Here’s the rub. Things have changed at Zion since I was last there 10 years ago. If you want to go through the part of the park with the river, you have to park and take a shuttle service during the summer months. That’s not for me. Had I been camping there I would have considered it, but there was a King size bed in Vegas calling me so I stayed on Route 9 and rode through that part of the park. Nice enough in itself.

I met a nice biker couple who took this picture for me. They were totally digging Zion and each other. It’s nice to see happy couples. Sometimes as one travels you hear couples saying the most awful things to each other. It’s very distasteful. 

So it was later to Zion and on toward Vegas. I did pass an elk farm and an ostrich farm on the way. Certainly worthy of a photo op.

Finally, Vegas. It seems strange, but I came to Vegas to escape the over stimulation of all the natural beauty and relax. That is just what I did. When I arrived at the hotel they told me they had run out of single rooms. So they upgraded me to a suite. And sweet it was! It was a crazy Saturday night outside and I didn’t care. I had a King sized bed and was happy to jump right in. The next day I went out for the champagne brunch buffet. I had checked another restaurant where an eggs benedict cost 13 bucks, so I figured a $20 all you can eat brunch was better for me. Boy was I right! I ate sooo much. I had tuna rolls, salmon rolls, mussels, clams, crawfish, shrimp, crab legs, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, roast beef, potatoes, watermelon, cantaloupe, iced tea and of course champagne. Then I went back to my room and slept some more. That evening I went for a quiet Sunday night stroll about town.

After leaving Las Vegas I passed this beautiful rig. I was glad to catch up with it at a gas station later.

Last year while traversing the nation I had planned on visiting a number of ghost towns. Unfortunately my laptop crashed and I lost all my information. So I was happy when I stumbled across Rhyolite, an abandoned mining community which was on my list last year.

So that was yesterday. I will bring you more of Rhyolite in my next post. The clouds are clearing and over my shoulder I can see the snowcapped Sierra mountains. They are calling me. Later.

Mookie Shake Dumas

It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of the only cat I ever loved. Mookie Shake Dumas joined my family when I lived with my friends Brian and Drew at the Rivergate in NYC. We were all young and silly then. We each gave Mookie a name. Brian chose Mookie. Drew chose Shake. I chose Dumb Ass. I really didn’t want a cat. Over a short period of time I grew to adore The Mook. He was a strong willed Alpha Male so we did have our issues, but man I loved that cat. It was a great 16 years. Brian has cared for Mookie since we left the Rivergate, then at my mom’s place, in LA, in NYC, and finally in NJ. I’ll miss you old friend.

Me and Mook.

Little Mookie on one of my paintings.

Mookie showing me the way on another cross country adventure.