2001 — OFMC Heads Back to Laughlin

It has gotten to the point where we are inevitably repeating ourselves. There's only so far you can go in a week, so destinations are revisited, although you try to vary the routes to keep it interesting.

Ken, Bill, John, and Johnathon are saddled up this year. Johnathon's Virago has serious problems so Ken has loaned him his CB750. Let's hit the road. (And there don't seem to be any photos from this trip, unless someone else has some.)

We headed out of US 285, over Kenosha Pass, South Park, down to Poncha Springs, over Monarch Pass, to Gunnison, past the Blue Mesa Reservoir, and on to Montrose. Tonight's destination was Clint and Amy's in Montrose, where the lodging is free and family ties abound.

From Montrose the route led south to Ridgway and Placerville, up to Telluride (brief stop), and over Lizard Head Pass down to Cortez. Then head west into Utah, for a night at Mexican Hat. By this time the San Juan Inn is getting to be a familiar stop, but a nice stop each time. We sat in the restaurant and watched out the window as a beaver did its thing out on the river. Later it was time to spend some time by the river ourselves.

Next day it was on across Monument Valley and down to Flagstaff. We waited out the rain under the awning of a souvenir shop north of Flagstaff, and that was kind of a nice stop. At Flagstaff we jogged west on I-40 but quickly turned south on AZ 89 through Sedona Canyon, a truly gorgeous road. In Sedona John had made reservations for us at a very nice lodge up on top of one of the mesas. This was a good place.

What wasn't so good was that John was having trouble with his bike. Once it was running it would run fine; the trouble was getting it started. Fortunately, the trouble appeared to be just a loose battery cable.

Heading on from Sedona we took the road up through Jerome and over the pass to Prescott. We then headed north, rejoined I-40, but got off at Seligman and took old Route 66 over to Kingman. From Kingman it's a short hop and we were in Laughlin/Bullhead City. We found a nice motel on the Arizona side right by one of the ferry wharfs and, after a cooling swim, rode the ferry over to the Nevada side for some gambling. Johnathon outlasted all the older farts, coming back to the motel far into the night.

We headed north out of Laughlin the next day, on the road that goes to Las Vegas. Cruising along at one point, with Ken in the lead, and a truck immediately ahead of us, one of the truck's tires suddenly exploded, throwing chunks of rubber large and small everywhere. The other guys were far enough back to mostly just watch but Ken dodged the fragments, ducking down behind his windshield just in case.

A bit south of Vegas, however, we turned off to Boulder City and rode a hot, dry, twisty road that skirts around Lake Mead. Eventually that ran into I-15, which we jumped on and blasted to Mesquite for a two-night stay. It seems we had a date to spank whitey.

Now, some people might argue that playing golf in Nevada in July is something only an idiot would do. But then, those people may never have heard of air-conditioned golf carts. Granted, an air-conditioned golf cart is not like an air-conditioned car--it's wide open and there's no way to keep the cool in. Nevertheless, if you have cold air blowing right in your face it's amazingly effective. Plus, they have water at every tee and you wet your shirt, you wet a towel and drape it over your head or around your shoulders, and it's actually pretty comfortable. So we spanked whitey. It was necessary.

Leaving Mesquite we spent a good bit on time on the superslab. Across the corner of Arizona into Utah, and up to Cedar City, where we finally got back on the two-lane. The route took us past Cedar Breaks National Monument, through Bryce Canyon National Park, and on to the little town of Escalante. Lots of gorgeous country here.

The next day we pushed on through this red-rock canyon country up to Torrey, across Capitol Reef National Park, and on to Hanksville, then north to pick up I-70 west of Green River. A short cruise took us to Grand Junction for the night.

Then it was time to head home, just a straight shot on I-70. Except for Ken. At the Debeque turn-off we parted and Ken headed up over Grand Mesa and down again into the Grand Valley. From Hotchkiss he headed south to the twisty road that runs along the north rim of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison and then on into Gunnison, where he planned to spend the night. Guess again. There wasn't a place in town with rates anywhere near what Ken considered acceptable, so he rode on, crossed Monarch Pass, and found a very nice little place in Poncha Springs.

It wasn't quite as nice as he would have liked however. After showering and laying down on the bed unencumbered by clothing, there were soon some voices and scratching at the door, which then began to open. It seems the proprietress had forgotten this room was taken and she was going to show the room to some other people. A shouted "Excuse me! Wrong room!" sent the intruders away without a word of apology.

The next day, coming in on US 285 Ken found strong winds sweeping across South Park so he took the road to Hartsel and then CO 9 north to Fairplay. That was a little more protected from the wind. Then it was on home and the end of another great trip.

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