I had planned to ride into Utah to photograph Bryce Canyon along with other pretty hunks of rock but our delays ate up our time for that, so we pass. A couple days of living in sin and we're outta here. U.S. 93 gets us out of town and across the Hoover Dam to Kingman, Arizona so we can get our kicks on Route 66. The old buildings are great, but they all offer the same junk. This should be a Jeopardy question; what do posters of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Elvis, and Ol' Blue Eyes have to do with the Mother Road?
In Seligman, Arizona I notice that my rear tire is bald and the closest Kawasaki shop is 80 miles away in Prescott. A call secures a new tire and a 9 am appointment for mounting. Hale's Motors is the coolest shop I've ever seen. The toilets have old movie posters showing actors on motorcycles. There are photos of old racers, bike advertisements, and a collection of beauties and bikes. On a ledge high above the showroom floor are vintage bikes including a Honda CB160. There's a Honda 305 Dream waiting to be tended to before being inducted to the showroom gallery. A new tire (a little wider than stock), mounting, balancing, for $139. These people are great!
Matt and his Kawasaki Vulcan 800 Classic peel off east on interstate 40 in the morning, while I continue on to the Grand Canyon. Entry to the Grand Hole is just $12 American and is valid for 5 days. I take a few awe-inspiring photos then retrace my steps to my trusty steed. I notice a bike in the parking lot with Hawaii plates and wonder how it got here.
Four Corners is the next stop. I'm on the Indian Reservation and it's the only place this entire trip that my Verizon cell phone doesn't work. Pulling in for fuel, I wearily reach for the green handle. 1.4 gallons into my fill-up, a kind Navajo lady says, "Your bike runs on diesel?"
Luckily, a guy named Walter comes along with a six-place trailer and offers to tow me to Kenyatta, AZ. Walter has a motorcycle guide business that operates overseas as well as in the USA. Least I can do is give him a plug: Rebel Motorcycle Tours www.rebeleurope.ch
There are no rooms in Kenyatta, but lucky for me, there's an uncovered covered wagon in front of the Holiday Inn, which provides my quarters for the night. I crawl way up in that rascal, cover with my plastic space blanket, then drift away.
After breakfast, I buy a 6-foot piece of clear plastic tube at a hardware store, then go to work siphoning my tank. Did you know that it takes 3 mouthfuls of gas and diesel fuel to get a good flow going? I spit. I gargle with Dr Pepper. I brush my teeth and still have that disgusting taste in my mouth. Shoulda waited to have breakfast. Filling up with high octane should help burn off any residue that was left in the tank, I head for Colorado.
A quick look at Four Corners, then a cruise through the Ute Reservation to Cortez. All of the hotels (including the Motel 6) are $80 a night. A closer look turns up the Aneth Lodge for $39.95, which is surprisingly nice. The Weather Channel informs me that a tropical storm is headed this way to dump lots of water on my intended route through the mountains: Telluride to Ridgeway then the Million Dollar Highway to Durango, so a new plan is needed.
Friday August 15, 8am, I turn my horse toward home and twist the throttle. The plan became all Interstate all the time. U.S. 160 east moved me past Durango and over Wolf Creek Pass (10,850 ft.) where I have a clear view of the approaching thunderheads. This whole day turns into a serious challenge. Pouring rain, blinding fog, ripped-up roads, and pea-sized hail are on the menu, and I have to stop at a hotel before even getting on Interstate 70, and well before leaving Colorado.