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Having had a taste the year before, this year we set out in earnest. The first night's destination was the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, where we camped. No food around so we rode into Montrose for dinner. Then back to Montrose in the morning for breakfast. From there we headed down past Telluride to Dolores and then northwest to Monticello, Utah, to Blanding, and somehow got to the south shore of Lake Powell, Hall's Crossing, across from the Bullfrog Marina, on the north shore.
Camping for the night, we had had the wisdom to pick up some food in the last town but had not expected we would get there and find no firewood to be had anywhere. Collecting bits of dried grass and tiny twigs of sagebrush and such, we built the world's smallest campfire and roasted some of the best-tasting hot dogs ever.
The next morning we crossed the lake on the ferry and rode north out of Bullfrog toward Capitol Reef National Park and then west to Bryce Canyon, where we spent the night camping again. On the next day to Zion National Park and Las Vegas, where we stayed at the Fitzgerald Hotel. We played some Red Dog and did pretty well.
From Las Vegas we battled heavy, dirt- and dust-laden wind as we made our way south to Laughlin. No rooms available on the Nevada side so we went across to Bullhead City, AZ, for accommodations. As it turned out, the place we checked into was full of strippers who were in for some big show. Nice views at the pool during the day. Friendly folks, too.
Back across the river to gamble, we had a truly excellent prime rib dinner that probably cost us each about $3.50. Then we hopped the ferry back to the Arizona side. That night, standing on the balcony looking out over the parking lot, Ken came as close as he ever has to punching someone. Some guy he was talking with was looking at the bikes below and referred to Ken's CB750 as "that piece of shit." It took extreme self-control.
Now heading homeward, we spent an entire day riding straight east across Arizona on I-40 with a fierce non-stop wind coming out of the north, hitting us broadside. After awhile you would just lay your left shoulder onto the cushion of the wind and cruise in that lean, until a rise alongside the road would interrupt your cushion and you had to quickly straighten up. We pulled into Gallup, New Mexico, and grabbed some fast food, but it wasn't fast enough to prevent a drunken Indian from hitting Bill up for his night's booze allotment. Then we checked into what has got to be the worst motel we've ever stayed in.
Continuing on I-40 the next day we made a stop in Albuquerque to visit Ken's brother and sister-in-law. He wasn't there but she fed us, only to complain to her husband later about what poor guests we were. We then headed north, stopping in Ojo Caliente to drink some beers by the road and then made it back into Colorado. Heading to Alamosa we ran into a typical, short Colorado cloudburst, got wet, but figured we'd dry off and just kept riding. We arrived in Alamosa and agreed to find a coffee shop right away. Shivering and shaking uncontrollably we drank about 10 pots of coffee in the next hour and realized we were suffering from hypothermia. In the meantime, it was still so hot outside that the asphalt gave way under John's kickstand and his bike fell onto Bill's.
We made it on home the next day.
(Once again guys, I know I've got pictures from this trip but I haven't been able to find them yet. If you've got any please send them along and I'll get them posted here.)
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