Day 11: Homeward Bound

This morning we felt a bit bittersweet, knowing that our journey was coming to an end but also eager to be in our own bed and relax without having to prepare for another day on the road. We left Palm Springs around 7:45am and it was already 75 degrees outside. Heading south (yeah, I know, wrong direction to get home) we took the Pines to Palms highway up into the mountains. Kitty saw a bighorn sheep on one of the slopes above the section of road we were on, but fortunately it didn't wander out into anyone's path. We gained a lot of elevation in a short amount of time and were looking out over the valley where we'd previously been from thousands of feet up. Heading further into the mountains, we finally arrived at the Paradise Valley Cafe for breakfast. There was an elderly man playing music on the patio, so we decided to take in the ambiance while we ate. For our last breakfast on the road, it was a nice change of pace.

After we were stuffed from breakfast, we continued along on highway 74 and then turned onto 243 which took us through Idyllwild and eventually Banning. While 74 had been great, 243 became really bumpy about halfway to Banning. I would hesitate to recommend it to a fellow rider unless it gets repaved - it was pretty uncomfortable. As we were coming down the mountain to Banning, we could see the haze and smog in the distance and were not looking forward to the slog through the inland empire and greater Los Angeles highways. At Redlands, we turned onto the 210 freeway which would take us closer to the mountains. Even though we were only a few miles from the foothills of those mountains, we couldn't make them out clearly because the air was so thick. When we stopped for fuel and I removed my helmet, Kitty said that I had a couple of dark spots on my forehead where my helmet's vents had funneled grime onto my skin. Gee, I bet that was doing wonders for my lungs too.

We eventually made it through the morass of freeways and found ourselves on the familiar highway 101 leading us back home. As we passed through Ventura, we saw the Pacific Ocean again which we hadn't seen for more than 10 days. Normally, we see it every day when commuting to work and it was a welcome sight. The cool ocean breeze made for a pleasant ride compared to the dry, sweltering heat from the days prior. In Santa Barbara, we turned onto highway 217 and headed to Goleta Beach to take a breather before finishing the trip. We reflected on how far we'd gone in just 11 days; 3137.8 miles on two wheels. Next time, I think we'll have more stops where we spend 2 days at a given location so that we don't feel quite as rushed. Lessons learned.

We're looking forward to the next adventure.

Day 10: Flagstaff to Palm Springs

Anticipating a really hot day, we woke up at 5:15 and started packing everything up so that we could leave right after breakfast. When we went next door to the 'Crown Railroad Cafe' for breakfast, the hostess/waitress seemed like she could have used a few shots of espresso. Talk about a wet blanket. This was a forecast of what was to come for breakfast, as the food was rather bland. Anyway, we scarfed it down knowing that we were going to try and power through all the way to Palm Springs before another meal and hit the road.

If you've read my past blog posts, specifically from my Oregon adventure in 2011, you'll know that I have a history with ungulates. Leaving Flagstaff, we saw signs warning of deer and elk for the next 60 miles. About 20 miles into the ride, I spotted three bull elk grazing right next to the side of interstate 40 as we rode past. I pointed at them and it appeared to have startled one, but it started running back into the woods rather than toward the highway. Sphincters clenched, we continued onward with our eyes peeled on either side of the highway to avoid any catastrophes like the one in Oregon. The positive thing about traveling through northern Arizona is that you're above 5,000 feet for much of the ride which kept the temperatures down.

Descending out of the mountains though toward Kingman brought the heat. This was the theme for the remainder of the day and with my wife's encouragement, I dropped the hammer to get us through the desert as quickly as possible. At least there aren't any significantly large trees in the desert for deer or other large critters to hide in, making it easy to spot anything coming toward the road from the side. Once into California, we split off from interstate 40 onto US 95 south toward Vidal Junction. This road was actually in really nice shape and was pretty fun for the first third of it, with lots of curves and hills to keep things interesting. The further south we went though, it straightened out and just had a lot of dips and rises along the straighaways. Arriving in Vidal Junction, the dash read 94 degrees and there wasn't any wind. I wanted to come this way to see what the road looked like, as the last time I had been traveled this highway was to visit Chateau Denunzio in Parker some 30-35 years ago. Before heading west on highway 62, we used a trick I had read about and soaked our shirts with water at the gas station. Once underway, this worked like a swamp cooler once the wind was blowing through our jackets on the road. This only lasted for about 30-45 minutes though as the heat ended up drying them out pretty quickly.

The heat eventually hit 100 degrees before reaching a town(?) called Old Dale where some highway maintenance was being done and a flag man brought us to a halt. What kind of shit-list does a Cal-Trans worker have to get on to pull duty out there in the middle of the desert? As Kitty and I broiled in our riding gear, the pilot truck took it's sweet-ass time turning around in the distance to make it's way back to our end of the road work. Finally, it turned around and the orange-clad minion turned his stop sign around and beckoned us to go ahead slowly. Once we were clear of the pilot car on the other end I twisted the throttle all the way to the stop and we blasted off again.

The other reason that I went this way is because our daughter Haley had lived in Twentynine Palms for a brief stint a few years ago. Kitty and I questioned her sanity at the time and now that we were approaching the 'oasis in the desert' our previous assessment was confirmed. Haley, you were out of your friggin' mind to live out there (and we're really glad that you got out!)

Leaving the 'oasis' behind, we continued onward and finally arrived in Palm Springs. After schlepping our gear into the hotel room, we dunked ourselves into the pool and cooled off. We later enjoyed a nice dinner with my folks (as they were visiting one of their time shares in Palm Desert as well) and crashed sometime between 9 and 10pm from exhaustion.

Day 9: Kayenta to Flagstaff

Arizona is friggin' hot. We left at around 7:30am and the sun coming through my visor was already hot on my face. Thinking about the heat after seeing the many Navajo folks and their sun worn faces gives me a new appreciation for how tough they are. When I'm home and the subject of native Americans comes up, I think of our local Chumash tribe and how wealthy they have become with their casino. The poverty evident as we rode through several of the Navajo towns was a bitter reminder that many Indian reservations still struggle economically. I spoke with one gentleman when we made a pit stop and he was asking about our trip. He mentioned that he usually walked to the other towns when he would visit friends or family... Some of those towns were more than 40 miles away. What a tough old bugger.

When we finally arrived at the petrified forest, we entered via the north entrance. We were worried that we made a mistake since we didn't see any petrified wood. It turns out that it's mainly in the southern region of the park. The temperature was around 90 degrees now, and in full riding gear you have to keep moving or else you overheat quickly. Finally, we found some examples of ancient trees that had become mineralized and got our photos. Exiting the south entrance, we blitzed toward Flagstaff. There were some nasty cross winds along the way and a spectacular dust devil near the town of Winslow which we thankfully avoided. We cried uncle about 35 miles from Flagstaff and pulled into a rest stop to cool off. We thought we were hallucinating when we first arrived because it sounded like someone was killing a cat. It ended up being a guy practicing[?] on a saxophone among some rocks nearby.

We finally made it to town and made a repeat visit to MartAnne's for lunch. It was just as delicious as we remembered from our trip to the grand canyon 5 years ago. Now to rest up for our very long ride to Palm Springs tomorrow.

Day 8: Telluride to Monument Valley

Day 8 got off to a rough start. The bed in our room was more akin to a bowl than a bed making sleeping difficult. I checked road conditions first thing and got the bad news. Highway 550 would not open until 8am and would have alternating 1-way traffic with a pilot car. That didn't sound like a very fun ride down what is supposed to be a very scenic road, thus we opted to take the alternate route.

Highway 145 took us on a much more south-westerly course which shaved almost 100 miles from our original route. We were nearly alone on the road and encountered few other travelers going southward. On a few occasions, we caught ourselves complaining about the low 40-degree temperatures then remembered it was going to be hot at our destination. Kitty and I talked about how we were going to miss the alpine forests of Colorado and before we knew it, we descended into the high desert near Cortez.

I try not to be judgemental when rolling into a new town, but Cortez was giving me a Breaking Bad vibe. This was reinforced after chatting with a man who was walking his dog by us after our breakfast stop. He was a former Ventura resident who moved there because his wife took a job there and told us that Cortez was a rather rough burgh. We took that as our cue to move along without doing any further exploring.

The air warmed as we rode toward the Four Corners Monument and green disappeared from the landscape's palette. The road quality deteriorated considerably, which seemed uncharacteristic compared to all the previous CO roads we had been on. Arriving at the monument, we made our way to the center so we could get the obligatory photo standing in more than one state and browsed the wares of the native American booths. Okay, it's getting hot, time to get moving again.

Heading northwest toward Utah, we came around a bend and were startled by some jackasses hanging out at the side of the road. We were under the impression that the open range signs referred to cattle, but in these parts there were wild horses and donkeys too. After a brief refuge from the heat at a gas station in Mexican Hat, we crested a hill and caught our first glimpse of Monument Valley in the distance. After seeing it in photos and movies, I thought I would be prepared for the scale of it, but it was bigger than I imagined. Had it not been for the heat, we would have explored more, but we settled for several photos instead.

Day 7: Denver to Telluride

We bid adieu to Denver just before 8am and headed southwest into the mountains. The skies were gray today and temperatures were lower than we anticipated. Again, Colorado impressed us with its beauty as we raced along sinewy rivers, through gorges and across the high plains.

During a fuel stop, Kitty saw another couple ride past and the woman riding pillion waved at us enthusiastically as her hair whipped around in the wind. Colorado does not have a helmet law like we are used to in California, but I much prefer to have that protection in place law or not. When we caught up with the couple, we were climbing up Monarch Pass and the temps were in the low 40s. I glanced over at the sign at the summit where the continental divide is marked: 11,312 feet above sea level. We're going to be drunk on oxygen when we get home.

After blasting across the high pains, we arrived in Montrose where we filled up the tank and the skies darkened. Suddenly the sky grew bright with a flash of lightning and thunder followed very shortly afterward. Heading south on highway 550 the sky opened up and made a mess of things. Thankfully, it cleared up before we arrived at our hotel. There is a fire burning south of us, but hopefully it won't force us to use a different route tomorrow.

We arrived at 2pm and The Angler Inn was abandoned of staff with a realty sign out in front, making us wonder if something had happened since I booked our reservation. Without cell reception, I used the phone in the abandoned lobby to call the number that had been left on the closed door to the front desk. It went to voicemail, so I left a concerned message wondering if we had a place to stay or not. Since we couldn't get a hold of anyone, we rode into Telluride to check out the town. Telluride was beautiful and small, reminding me of the Santa Ynez Valley 25 years ago. We strolled along the main drag for a little while before going into Brown Dog Pizza for a bite to eat. They serve their pies 'Detroit style' in a square pan and we opted for the 3-1-3, which was very tasty. I noticed that I had a voicemail after we finished our meal and it was someone from the hotel indicating that they don't have a front desk person until 3pm and that check-in was 4pm. I can understand that sometimes an early check-in is not possible, but for no staff to be on-site was pretty unsettling. We spent a bit longer in Telluride taking some photos and then headed back to get checked in.

Upon returning to the hotel, we were given a key to our room and as we approached it we heard what sounded like parents and children trying to murder one another. This was not the relaxing retreat that we had envisioned, so we returned to the desk to request a different room. Heading upstairs, we noted that the cacophony was no longer audible and we went into our room. Unfortunately, we didn't notice that the bed had a rather bad sag to it until it was too late to change anything about it. This made for a lousy night's sleep. We felt really let down by this establishment.

Day 6: Pike's Peak

Today was a long day, but a good day. We hit the road early so that we could grab a bite in Colorado Springs before attempting to ride up the peak. We were about halfway there when the mountain came into view. Pike's Peak towers over its neighbors and its summit has no foliage, I was starting to feel intimidated.

After a delicious breakfast at a restaurant called Over Easy, it was time to head up. The morning air was already cool and we wondered how much further it would drop on the way up. The ride near the bottom is really beautiful and verdant with lots of trees. The road is smooth with sweeping turns and heat views. Once you climb above the tree line though, it gets intense. There are few guardrails and steep drops everywhere. Knowing how fast the guys who race up this mountain go gives me a whole new respect for them.

When we finally made it to the top, the temp reading on the dash said 40 degrees and there was a stiff breeze blowing. Walking from the bike over to the sign with the elevation on it felt laborious. At 14,000 feet, the effective oxygen level is only ~60% of what you get at sea level due to the reduced atmospheric pressure. Suffice it to say, we walked slowly to the various lookouts to take in the views.

Heading back down the mountain, we made a few stops at some of the lookouts for photos, then took a different route back to Denver that wasn't the interstate. Gorgeous landscape and roads; motorcycling paradise.

We capped the day visiting with two of Kitty's dearest friends from her previous life in Colorado. Lycia and Justin were wonderful hosts, and I can see why Kitty holds such a fondness for them. I hope we can return the favor when they next find themselves in California.