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| Monument Valley |
I don’t like
crowds. But I do, however, like motorcycles and
road trips. My friend Linda and her
family owned a motel in Deadwood a few years back and I thought it would be fun
to go up around “rally” time and see if I could help out at the motel with the
“rush” and ride around the Black Hills a bit.
Since I don’t like crowds, I went the week before the rally and left
before it really got going. It was still
busy of course, but not like it would have been had I gone during the Sturgis
events themselves.
I should
tell you… I don’t ride a Harley or a v-twin any more. I like them well enough for what they are – I
owned an XL1200 a few years back – and I always thought I might like to have a
Soft Tail Deuce or a Fat Boy. But since
about 2003 I have been on Kawasaki machines – I like the power, the speed and
the smoothness. So I rode to Sturgis,
probably the premier v-twin rally in the WORLD, on a rice rocket – my little
Kawasaki ZR7-S. Yes, I did.
The bike
didn’t have bags – I have a two-deck magnetically attached tank bag, and I also
have a smaller (helmet-sized) tail bag that attaches to the seat surface behind
me. So I was limited in creature comforts
to what I could carry – basically one change of clothes, basic rain gear, water,
maps, camera and a RON kit. I shipped a
box of clothes and other items UPS to Linda just ahead of my arrival date – and
shipped the box back home again for the return trip.
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| Church Rock (Monticello, UT) |
I didn’t
intend the journey to be an iron-butt ride.
I took it very easy. The first
day was a good distance – Phoenix to Moab.
Second day was Moab to Rawlins.
Third day was across Wyoming and into Deadwood. What would be a two-day trip by car I
stretched to three. It was still
physically demanding – for the trip home I purchased a pair of bicycle pants
with gel cushioning to make the “ride” a bit less painful. This helped, but didn’t really solve the
problem. I did have a more comfortable
Corbin seat than the OEM seat – I couldn’t have done the ride without it. Even a short trip on the OEM seat would cause
such pain and numbness that I couldn’t walk for days.
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| Moab's Apache Motel |
First
morning, the route was I-17 to Flagstaff, US89 north to US160, then through Kayenta,
Mexican Hat and Blanding to Moab. It was
a great ride with plenty of quick stops along the way. The highlights of the day were riding along
with a Navajo guy on a Yamaha 1000 (an R-1 maybe?). We rode together from Flagstaff where we met,
up onto the res – maybe Tuba City or Tonalea (can’t remember exactly). His bike was a lot faster than mine, but he
wasn’t in any hurry. Then, as I got
farther out toward Kayenta, I got into some rain storms and had to get out the
rain gear. That didn’t last long enough
to get nasty, and I dried out quickly once it stopped and the sun came back
out. These are great motorcycle roads –
especially the ride from Kayenta to Mexican Hat and Blanding – just twisty
enough to add some fun and interest, and the beautiful Utah red-rock scenery
all around. I stopped in Blanding for
supper, then continued on to Moab where I had a reservation at the Apache
Motel. It was John Wayne’s choice of
motels a couple of times when he was filming in the area – the clerk had worked
there as a youngster and she told me some stories about meeting Duke when he
stayed there – he had been really great to her.
I also stayed in the same room he preferred which was a treat for me.
Next
morning, I had a quick pancake breakfast and headed on down the road – I took
the river road (SR128) northeast until it connected to I-70, then east to
around Rifle, Colorado, then north on skinny little SR13 through Craig and
Baggs, WY. I ran into a lot of wind
along I-70 which makes for uncomfortable bike handling, and rain along the
route from Rifle to Baggs – but again, like the first day, it was of short
duration and sunny otherwise so it wasn’t a bad day. I got a room in Rawlins, had a good supper at
a restaurant next door, and got an early start the next morning.
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| Pathfinder Res. |
My route
through Wyoming was a lot of two-lane road – north to Muddy Gap, SR220 past
Independence Rock and Pathfinder Reservoir and over to I-25, north just far
enough to catch 387 and 450 into Newcastle, and from there into the Hills on
US85. Along the way I passed the “first
cabin” in Wyoming, killed 10 million bugs, and took the opportunity of the
remote, isolated and little-used highways to “let the ponies run.” It was the fastest speed I ever sustained for
any length of time on a bike – and I knocked off a lot of miles really quickly.
I’m not going to say exactly how fast… but I did this until I saw what it did
to my fuel mileage (reduced it 35-40%)… I also started thinking about tire blow-outs at high speeds... and then I got a little more conservative, really quickly. I collected so many
bugs, I had to stop occasionally, take the helmet to the nearest water source,
and wash them all off. My jacket was
completely saturated with bug juice and guts as well. It was awesome. It was kind of a hot day, so I wasn’t very
comfortable unless I was riding – but it wasn’t bad in the wind.
I also
stopped at Pathfinder Reservoir early in the day to watch people fish (and
have a snack), and at Independence Rock.
I climbed around a little at the Rock to see if I could find some of the
places where the Oregon Trail pioneers signed their names on the rock, and
thought a lot about what a July 4th celebration might have been like there. It was about where the wagons would be around
the 4th if they left Independence at the proper time in April/May. So a lot of July 4th parties took place there
during the Oregon Trail years. Another
Oregon Trail landmark I passed by was Emigrant Gap.
As I got
closer and closer to Sturgis, I noticed that riders were not acknowledging other
motorcyclists like they usually do. When
a motorcycle passes another motorcycle, the custom dating back to before I was
born is you “wave” (even if subtlety, because, after all, one must remain “cool”). But as you get closer to Sturgis at rally
time – you are passing hundreds, if not thousands, of bikes – and after the
first 50 or so, NOBODY waves anymore. I
had to laugh. I didn't get "waved to" again
until I was on my way home again – and at least 500 miles out of Deadwood. I eventually gave up trying.
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| Ready to ride |
On arrival
at the motel, Linda and Merrill put me up in a room behind the office they were
in the process of converting to a “suite.” It wasn’t
finished yet, but was still nice quarters for me, especially when you consider
the “price.” I stayed several days – and
tried to get them to let me help around the motel, but they wouldn’t. I think Merrill might have let me help him with
the pool one morning – but other than that, they must’ve thought I was
unreliable because they wouldn’t let me do anything.
The rally
attendees were already starting to arrive, and the motel was booked. There were Harleys everywhere – bikes,
trailers, etc. The Harley riders were
pretty funny. They don’t respect foreign
bikes much, you know. But my scooter was
parked over by the office, and the big tough Harley biker dudes would slowly
walk by it, stand and look at Linda’s flowers planted underneath the office
windows, and slyly check out the ZR7 out of the corner of their eye. Harley owners are not allowed to look at a Jap
bike, you know. Would hurt their
image. The other place I had fun with
them on this ride was there around the Hills.
There’s a lot of great twisty roads there of course. I had to ride over to Rapid City to get a
tire replaced for the trip home, and coming back I took the “scenic
route.” Those roads cry out to be ridden
fast on a bike that can handle – and not all Harleys handle real well; they’re
too big and fat, and their riders are sometimes in that same state. So they tend to “saunter” around and through
the twisties. I, on the other hand, on
that nimble little 750 which handled like a feather, whipped through the turns
at a good clip, having nothing but fun all the way. It was the most fun when they tried to keep
up – but found they couldn’t and had to give it up after just a short
distance. In short, my bike handled like
a sports car – and their big old Harleys handled like Buicks with leetle tiny motors.
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| Like this one, only newer... |
While I was
waiting for the tire installation at Black Hills Motorsports, I got to talking
to the sales department and they had a Yamaha V-Max there for sale – it was
used so they let me take it for a test ride.
I had heard they were really powerful and I enjoyed the experience quite
a lot. They also had an “Eddie Lawson” 1000
(a special edition Kawasaki) that I always liked and thought I wanted. That one
was new and I didn’t get to test-ride it.
I came away thinking that Black Hills Motorsports in Rapid City was a
great place to get service – but I don’t remember specifically why now. I’m old and my memory isn’t as sharp as it
used to be!
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| At Mt Moriah Cem. |
While I was
there in Deadwood, I took a ride with Linda up to Mt Moriah (cemetery) and
communed with the spirits there. Or a
deer or two anyway. I saw Calamity
Jane’s final resting place, Wild Bill’s and Seth Bullock. That skull orchard sits up high above the city
in a wooded area, a very beautiful setting.
After a few
days, the time came to start for home…
The route home was a bit different – I rode west to Yellowstone National
Park, then south through Utah. Most of
the riders I passed were all heading toward the Hills as the rally was just
getting started, not too many were going my way at that point. I rode up across the Bighorn Mountains,
stayed the night in Buffalo Bill Cody’s hotel in Cody – I can’t remember the
name of the place but it was represented as a hotel/restaurant he had
owned. It was definitely of frontier vintage and rustically elegant. I headed northwest from Cody
toward the Park, and went in on the north side and made a big circle around and
through the area, then out of the Park south toward Jackson. I checked out Yellowstone Falls, Yellowstone
Lake, Old Faithful, Mammoth Hot Springs, and uneasily passed a group of
tourists who had stopped their cars to watch some bears; I did not stop.
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| Up and across the Bighorns |
I made it down past the Grand Tetons to
Jackson for the night, walked around town to find some food that evening, then
got an early start the next morning. I
didn’t do much loitering that day – rode down past Bear Lake and Logan into the
Salt Lake area and on south. I made it
to Fredonia, AZ before I quit for the day.
I did a quick tour through Bryce Canyon NP in the rain, and got so cold
I stopped on the way out to get some hot soup and coffee. My friend Gen had told me about a quirky
motel in Fredonia (The Crazy Jug Motel) and I made sure I stayed there. The whole place, furniture and all, was made
of knotty pine. The other thing I remember about the ride was there was lots of
road construction in the north part of Utah, in between Logan and SLC. There was quite a bit of rain in the later
afternoon and I was soaked by the time I got to Fredonia.
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| Crazy Jug and the Yellow Streak |
The Crazy
Jug had its own café next door, and I went over there to eat. The cashier didn’t know how to work the
credit card machine (or was having trouble with it), and ran my card three or
four times. I made a point of asking to
make sure I wasn’t being charged three or four times, and they got kind of
huffy about it. So when I got home,
imagine my surprise to find I HAD been charged for the meal three or four
times. The credit union fixed it pretty
quickly and charged it all back to them, but still. I think that establishment has since gone out
of business – sad because I really did enjoy the motel itself.
The last
section was across the Arizona Strip to US 89 south of Page, and home to
Phoenix via Flagstaff. It rained a lot
on that stretch also – but I didn’t care – it was summer, and I knew I'd be home at
the end of the day to wash off the grime. Keep it between the fence posts!
