USA 2012 - The Inbound Ride

We left Deadwood for Lusk, a single strip town in the middle of nowhere in south Wyoming, but the journey there was fantastic!  First, we stopped at a scenic spot for a photo by a reservoir:

Then, we rode to get a view and picture of Mount Rushmore to see the carved heads of the four US Presidents, Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt & Lincoln, which was impressive:  

However, the carving of Crazy Horse Monument, which was started in 1948 by one man and, after he died, continued by his family who have just managed to finish the face in 1998, and it will takes decades to finish.  Crazy Horse was a local hero who refused to sign any more Treaties because the White Man kept breaking them - mostly because of gold that was found on the Indian land.  When finished, it will stand taller than the Washington Monument and many other like structures, and be the largest mountain sculpture in the world.  It's just amazing.

So far - the people standing at the bottom of the head are not visible!

The design on the mountain sculpture

What it will look like when finished

Me in the car park in front of the mountain, a long way off

We then headed for Custer, where bikers were being persuaded to stop by townsfolk all dressed up in the past, onward to Custer National Park on the Needles Highway, which features pinnacles of rock, single lane tunnels, forestation and very pretty twisty roads to ride on.  It was extremely pretty.

Then, it was a dramatic change of scenery as we dropped (well actually, still above 5,000') down to prairie land again, with scrub grass, where we saw wild bison, deer, a couple of huge ones just by the roadside, which would have been disastrous to hit.  Also keeping us alert was a rather large and fresh amount of bison poop for some distance on the road until we came across a herd not far from the roadside - phew!  The winds got hot and the road went on for over 100 miles until we arrived in Lusk for a stop at a motel for the first of three nights in Colorado, once again showing the size of these States and what it takes to cross them.  We had a great start next day with omelettes prepared on the lawn in the motel from a chuck wagon, of the sort that used to accompany the cattle drovers or those driving west in search of a new life.

After a short ride, we got to the historic site of what had been Fort Laramie, a very important military post on the Oregon Trail, one of the main arteries of emigration from east to west as the attraction of a new life (opportunists and dreamers), freedom (Mormons and others) and the gold rush took place.  The Fort itself doesn't really exist today but what does remain has become part a National Park and some very good information and exhibits exist in it to explain its part in history.

Then, it was on to Laramie town, actually 40 miles away.  We left the prairie land that Fort Laramie occupies, and climbed from 4,000' to 7,000' through some of the foothills of the Rockies, to another plain.  I have come to better understand the description of High  Plains, having hitherto only associated it with the Clint Eastwood movie High Plains Drifter.  They are high, they have strong winds both in summer and in winter, with many snow break fences to stop the snow accumulating on road and railroad, often up to 100mph.  The grass is very scrubby and Angus cattle suit it well, but we also saw deer, including one doe which ran across the road in front of John when I was riding no 2 behind him!  Fortunately, it continued and leapt the cattle fence on the other side, rather than go back, which would have been disastrous.  It helped focus the mind!

We stopped for lunch in Laramie after two long runs on high plain prairies in hot winds, and a very interesting one in the first lot of foothills.  After that, we found this fascinating place in the middle of nowhere (advertised next beer 50 miles!):

and at the front:

I think she meant it too!

Fascinating picture on the wall with various celebs

including Butch, Sundance, Wyatt Earp and Liver Eating Johnson!

Great place, full of character

From there, we fortunately skirted some thunder storms on the mountains to our right and rode into Colorado in the dry, after we had stopped a fascinating and very remote saloon with these signs:

After that, it was with increasing heat and humidity on a section of motorway that was very slow indeed, that we eventually got to the Thunder Mountain dealership, believed to be the biggest in the US, in Loveland.

It was a somewhat cloudy but warm day when we departed Loveland and entered the narrow canyon on the road up to the Rocky Mountain National Park.  But, it was dry.  The canyon was deep sided and narrow and twisted and climbed for quite some miles, and was a joy to ride through.  Next, we arrived at a higher flat plain, and the air had cooled some, after which we entered the Park.  We were around 9,000' at this point.  Following some study of the map and a target place and time for lunch, we split up to do our own thing for 2 hours.

I climbed for another 1,500', now 2 miles above sea level and had a couple of stops to take photos, but the clouds were now looking rather menacing and, after passing a sign with warnings of sudden changes of weather beyond that point, it kept its promise!  The rain began, the temperature fell to 5°C and a high wind made riding on the Trail Ridge road far from scenic and enjoyable.  I also noticed quite a sudden breathlessness, not from the scenery in the rain but the altitude!  I was a bit surprised by this as we had been fairly high in recent days and this normally helps cope with the transition to thinner air.  I stopped a couple of times to look down on small glaciers that were below me, by now over 12,000' and even tried a couple of photos, but it was really just a question of getting down safely on the wet road.  At 10,500' again and on the other side of the mountain range, the rain let up but the road remained wet for some distance.  What a shame - it was to have been a high point in two respects!

Snow below me in the rain!

I passed a stopping point at just over 10,000', which was another on the Continental Divide, at La Poudre Pass, which is also the source of the mighty Colorado River that I had enjoyed in the Grand Canyon, in what now seems ages ago.  

Further down, I was rewarded several times with large stags at the side of the road, one of whom was doing a number on a tree with his antlers.

From the Park, we set off for some stunning riding through some more of the Rockies, more sweeping bends, fantastic scenery and the sunshine returned.  It got better and better and we crisscrossed the now growing Colorado several times and paralleled it for some distances too.

The final 20 miles were through the Glenwood Canyon on what must be the most attractive and scenic freeway/motorway in the World.  The Colorado flowed through it, train tracks were alongside, and the canyon walls rose, by my estimation, more than 1,000' steeply either side.  It couldn't have been a better finish to follow the disappointment of not being able to savour the Trail Ridge road at its best, but I sadly couldn't take photos as we passed through.  We got a good taster for the spread and the height of the Rocky Mountains.  Glenwood Springs is up in skiing territory and near to the famous Aspen Resort.

It was a lovely cool start the following morning, heading out of Glenwood Springs to stop at a typical American Diner, complete with Wurlitzer Juke Box and all the other ambience of the type you see in the movies.  It was very efficient, much better than any recent restaurant experience, and a fine cooked breakfast was on the table in minutes.

From there, we spent about 50 miles in a canyon, quite wide for much of it but with a river, which was very pretty with deep red rock rising either side.  After that, we got to a very wide valley or gorge of a completely different type or rock, very creamy in colour and the valley floor looked to me as though it was manmade as some of the mounds looked like spoil from something.  In due course after many miles, I concluded that this was not so although I knew we were in mining country, as the size of these mounds was so huge.  We did pass a few coal mines, but they were distinct.

Gradually as the miles passed, we got closer to the large mountains we could see rising in the distance for a long time.  They looked so huge, rising above the valley floor by thousands of feet, even though we were still around 7,000' to begin with. Finally, we reached a little town called Ouray, which was nestled at the end of the valley.  We rose steeply from this and a stop overlooking it had a sign that the area we were in was the 'Switzerland of America'. 

Above Ouray

We continued to climb to some of the most dramatic and testing riding I have ever experienced.  The road narrowed some and twisted a turned as it climbed to the first of the passes we were to traverse today.  The craggy rock rose steeply to our left and dropped perilously to our right, the side we were riding of course!  There were no barriers and anyone with vertigo would have given up or frozen.  On we climbed, passing old wooden mining structures from the past, bits of spoil from the prospecting and mining until I saw the largest mountains of iron oxide I have ever seen - giant peaks of rusty rock rising above us.  Sadly, the stop we made to put in liners for the colder air was just past the best point to photograph them.

On we went and once more the rain came.  We passed Ironton, not surprising given the rust about, although it seemed only to be an area rather than a developed town. We peaked at around 10,700' in the rain, before a slow descent into Silverton.  I'm not sure if there is a Goldton, but gold and silver mining was big here when the West was being won.  Silverton sits at 9,300', is a very attractive old town, and hosts the highest H-D dealer in the World, another T-shirt.  We then decided it was best to put wets pants on as well as the sky looked dark in the direction we were heading.

Silverton Main Street

Mining works and spoil above Silverton

Onward and upward again was next, climbing back up to 10,640' at the summit of the next pass but the rain fortunately started to ease as we had a glorious and steady descent on lovely road for the next 35 miles into Durango, which is still at 7,500'. The issue of height is quite important because it determines the coolness of the air, particularly in the evenings, and it helps dimension the relative sizes of some of the peaks that we have seen around us.

The Strater Hotel is locally famous for its saloon with waitresses dressed up in old western style and it hosted very good live country & western music.

The Diamond Belle Saloon of the Strater Hotel, Durango

We headed out from Durango in the cool of the morning, shortly passing into New Mexico for the first time to continue a slow descent for the first 50 miles to a place called Farmingo.  It was here, still at 5,300', that the landscape suddenly changed from green to desert, almost as if a line had been drawn. 

For the next 100 or so miles, it was barren and arid with sand and rock abound, but with mounds of rock rising up here and there, nothing too dramatic, and very sandy coloured so not very interesting.  The road was straight and shortly after leaving Farmington, we passed into Arizona for the first time.

Next, we passed into Utah once more, and eventually arrived at Four Corners Monument, the only place in the US where four State boundaries intersect in a point and at right angles - Utah, New Mexico, Colorado and Arizona - inside an Indian Reservation.  There is a bronze plaque cemented into the ground with the four State lines shown in concrete from it in each direction.  Photos were taken and we tried our first Navajo Fry Bread [sic], which was actually quite nice, a bit like a soft tortilla and coated with powdered sugar, honey or cinnamon.  So, 4 States in a blink.

From there we carried on in Utah and started to see the rising formations of Monument Valley in the distance.  I thought they were still miles away when we came over the brow of a hill to drop into a gully for a while.  To say that these formations are awesome is barely adequate and we weren't yet in Monument Valley.

The road was dead straight for miles at a time, but it did undulate up and down to bring great views both sides.  Very large rocks seemed precariously perched on the top some of the formations and one such - Mexican Hat Rock - epitomised them and was close to the road to warrant a stop and photo. 

Mexican Hat Rock

The long straight road leads to Monument Valley in the distance

After about 50 miles we got to the turn off to the View Hotel, the only such place in Monument Valley and on the Indian Tribal Park.  Just before we entered the gate, we passed back in Arizona for the second time in the day, and checked into this small hotel almost built, into the rock and very sympathetically coloured to blend.  Every room has a view over the Valley and the key attraction is to watch the sun go down with the mesas (the rising towers of rock) in full view, and the sun rise next morning.  Both were fantastic.

The View Hotel

Blends easily with its low profile

At sunset

Sunrise

Departing the View Hotel next morning, we had just passed 3,000 miles of the trip and crossed back into Utah from Arizona, only to go a mile or two before we passed back into Arizona!  

Looking back the other way into Utah

Then it was onward to catch sight of more mesas and buttes of Monument Valley as the temperature quickly rose again to 40°C.  It was more desert, but the colour, texture and topography changed as we rode through part of the Painted Desert.  

The colours changed from the red of Monument Valley to cream and grey, then back again to red again as we got closer to the Grand Canyon.  We lunched at a Navajo Trading Post called Cameron, which has the biggest gift shop of native arts and crafts I have ever seen, not that I bought a bow, arrows, a peace pipe, a tomahawk, or any of the mountain of jewellery etc on sale. 

Next, it was into the Grand Canyon National Forest with a rise in elevation to a slightly cooler temperature and the smell of the pine trees, then the Park, where I got more sights of the biggest hole in the ground you ever did see as we passed various viewing points.  

After dropping luggage at our hotel, those of us who had booked a helicopter tour over the Canyon headed for the airport very close by.  It was a very enjoyable flight over a different route to that I had taken from Las Vegas.  I was also by an open window so was able to poke the camera out for good photos and video, so it was definitely worthwhile.  It really is an astounding piece of geology.

As the sun started to set, we headed back to the side of the Canyon to watch it set, but it was somewhat limited by cloud cover and not quite as good as Monument Valley.  Nonetheless, it was an experience not to be missed.

We left Grand Canyon in coolish air that didn't last very long and, after 50 miles arrived at Williams, our first stop on the Route 66, the Mother Road, the Main Street of America, for breakfast.  Route 66 doesn't get marked on US maps anymore, but the history of the road and the efforts of a barber ensure that it is still popular with tourists, in particular bikers like us.  We enjoyed a great breakfast and then wandered the town, visiting the Best Little Whorehouse (as was) of Williams, the Red Garter, next door to our breakfast stop.  

The places on Route 66 are otherwise small, and many have either died or nearly died as freeways have passed them by, but we were able to enjoy the largest single piece (150 miles) of it that still exists.  We stopped next at Seligman, where the barber, Angel Delgadillo, drove the recognition and retention of the history of the road, and his barber shop is now a mandatory stop and purchasing opportunity for all, with many others trying to mimic it.  It was wonderful.

At the end of the town, we stopped at the Road Kill Cafe - "You kill em, we cook em", or "Nice and tender, direct from the fender"!  The waiters wear T-shirts with 'Got any Road Kill?' on them and there are some great signs.  A place of outstanding character and atmosphere with a jail and various other old establishments next door.  

Then, it was on to Hackberry to the General Stores.  

The General Stores, I think, is Hackberry, rather than the Stores are in Hackberry.  It is an amazing place with lots of old cars, petrol pumps, an enormous collection of number plates and other Route 66 stuff to buy, in the middle of nowhere.

The temperature rose to 45° and that's rather hot for riding, especially when you're stopped at one of the very few traffic lights above an air cooled engine!  We then went on to Kingham for a stop at the Mother Road H-D dealership and thence to our hotel.  We were taken in the van for dinner at a local steakhouse, which turned out to be excellent and with character.

Our last day of riding still didn't disappoint although it was rather hot again at over 40°.  First, we rode across desert to the Sitgreaves Pass, a twisty one where, in the past, drivers were hired by owners to take their cars across the pass.  It's a bit better now, but still commanded attention.  On the other side, still relatively high at around 3,000'plus, we found the frontier and mining town of Oatman.

It really is a blast from the past, although it's survival is more from tourism now as the gold mining that made it famous, and very famous the area was with $36m mined in the early part of last century, has all but ceased.  It has a gun fight in the street every day and has lots of old buildings that remain.  The name derives from Olive Oatman, a picture of whom exists over the store of her name, who was one of only two survivors of her family after an Indian attack at the age of 12.  The Indians who killed the rest of her family tattooed her chin and made her a slave, which meant she lived outside their camp and had to scavenge.  She was treated badly until sold to another and more friendly tribe who eventually accepted a trade with the authorities for her to be released at the age of 19.

After soaking up the atmosphere of Oatman, we descended and parted company with Route 66 as we headed down towards the Colorado River, a much wider one than had seen previously, with paddle driven river boats in Bullhead City on the border of Arizona/California.  From there, we continued on some very hot, straight and boring road freeway, until we reached the Hoover Dam.

Lake Mead

The low water level, some say with only 8 years left!

Since I last visited it in the 80's, a massive new highway bridge has been built across the downstream side and the old road across the dam now only exists to allow visitors to it.  

From there, it was only a short ride to Las Vegas to return the bikes after 3,585 miles in my case.  We had had no breakdowns or issues, which was good for 9 bikes and one trike.

A sad moment!