Day Six and Seven Wrap--Denver

Lucky you! Today is gonna be a two-fer! I’ll wrap up the weekend now, and write about today’s ride later. It should be a great one, and I'm itchin' to get movin' again.

My pool lounging plan for the weekend? Never happened. For one, an indoor pool isn’t particularly inviting, and two, I had enough other things to keep me busy. With a couple thousand bikers in town for a motorcycle event, things get pretty fun. I especially like that a few rebels bucked the system and parked at the Marriott anyway. I mean, why be a host hotel for a motorcycle event if you don’t allow motorcycles?? Makes no sense to me.

Saturday night, went to a fun party, where everyone donned their Bronson All-Seeing-Eye. Good crowd, good food. Not too many shenanigans.

That came Sunday night at Coyote Ugly.

If you’ve never been to one, it’s worth it for the experience. The bartenders (all hot girls) dance on the bar and basically abuse their patrons.

The best part?



The bar sliding. Had I not been in a dress, I think I might have liked that. They soak down the bar, the girls take a running start, and then dive down and slide across the wet surface.






I got to hang with my pal, Paul, who is always fun. He was originally going to ride with us, but work got in the way. Maybe next time, Paul. We missed ya, buddy!

We met a great guy from San Salvador—Jorge—who joined in with our group. He and Araña especially hit it off.












The always-entertaining life-of-the-party, Disco, did a little Bull-Robatics for us. He also moon-walked, clogged, and in general, infused our group with life.



(Almost) everyone danced and whopped it up.














My feller and I mainly took a bunch of pictures that will probably never see the light of day lest we loose all of our friends. (To see a few other select pictures, check out www.socal67).

















A random guy asked to have his picture taken with me. It was dark enough that I guess he didn't realize I was old enough to be his mother.









So I was talking to these two guys at the bar, James and Rick, and it turns out, they passed us on the road. I remember them well as we were coming over the I-70 into Denver. James gave me a peace sign. They thought we were pretty bad-ass, hard-core for riding Sportsters from Southern California. Heck. I don’t know any better, so I don’t feel too tough or anything. Feller , who does know a difference, says touring on a Sportster is pretty cool, and would do it again. That doesn’t mean he’s giving up his Road King or anything, but other than higher speed freeway stuff, he said the Sportster performed like the champ that it is.

And now… it’s time to hit the road again. We’ll be heading down the 285 toward South Fork, where we have reservations at a cool looking Victorian B&B.

Until tonight….


Later gators

Day Five--Glenwood Springs, CO to Denver, CO

Here we are at our final destination--Denver--at least until Monday, when we take the southern route back to California. We had another gorgeous day of travel along the Colorado River, complete with white water river rafters and a really bitchin' tunnel that seemed to go forever. Funny thing... when you climb in elevation, it gets colder. My feller knows the exact elevation, check in with him (www.socal67.com). I just know I was freezing my butt off. Because we only stopped for gas, I took only one picture. Here it is, at a gas station. Epic, eh? At least the subjects are handsome.


We pulled off the Interstate at one point looking for gas and cruised through a cool little town... Idaho something. But the gas station was under construction.

We continued on, arriving in Denver around two-ish.

Be prepared. Here comes a bit of a rant....

I've been told Denver isn't a motorcycle friendly town, but I didn't really believe it. Then we arrived. Wow. The Marriott at City Center where we're staying doesn't allow motorcycles on premises. We were told we had to park in the public parking structure down the street--even though a giant horse trailer and truck were allowed to stay. So we go to the recommended garage. The motorcycle parking is full. We go to the next level, and the next, and finally find a regular spot. But no!! One of the workers told us motorcycles can be parked ONLY on the first floor. We explained it was full. He said, "Squeeze in." Really?? Come on. Denver, and more so the Marriott City Center, are now on my not-so-great list.

But I won't let it ruin the trip.

Rant over.

I'd like to take some time to address a question that has come up: Shooting pictures and video while riding a motorcycle. For any others who are concerned about safety, I do this only on the scenic roads when we are traveling at low speed. Generally (with the exception of this one) my eyes remain on the road, the camera is looped around my neck, and with my left hand, I take the picture/video. It's quick, and quite safe. I don't let it distract me from piloting the machine. I don't shoot on the Interstates. Trust me...

The next couple of days, I'll be lounging poolside (sadly, it's an indoor poor). It's doubtful I'll have worthwhile blog material.

Hey wait! I'll just give it to you now:

Day 6: Lounged by the pool.
Day 7: Lounged by the pool.

Until Day 8, when we hit the road again....

Later gators

Day Four--Green River Utah to Glenwood Springs, Colorado

Sorry for the late post. I was busy soaking in the Glenwood Hot Springs. Ahhhhh….

After all the glory of the Utah National Parks, we thought today was going to… well… suck, for lack of a better word--back on Interstate 70, through the no-mans-land part of Utah into Colorado. Man! Were we pleasantly surprised! The Utah stretch was desolate, but very textural and interesting. I even saw a roadside sign that said, “Eagles on Road.” How interesting is that?! I never saw an Eagle on the road, though, only in the sky. Maybe the road Eagles were hanging out with Kerouac. Thanks to a roadside readjustment, I got to take this purty picture of my Sportster. She's wearing a lot of road dirt right now.











I’ve traveled the country a lot. Growing up, my parents would pack my brother and I in the camper and head cross-country. For a month. In a camper. With my brother. Ugh. That’s how I thought of it as a kid. I didn’t appreciate it the way I do as an adult.

My point, though…

In all of my cross-state travels, I’ve never seen so dramatic of a state line as I did today, crossing into Colorado. We passed a wooden plank sign that read, “Welcome to Colorado, the colorful state,” where two hard-core bicyclists were stopped to get their picture. The MOMENT… I mean, the very SECOND we crossed that state line, the terrain changed. It went from a virtual moonscape, to hills and greenery. I thought it was perhaps my overly vivid imagination, but my feller mentioned it on our next stop, and was equally stupefied. I’m sure he’ll write about it in his blog as well (www.socal67.com).

From there, the ride just got better and better as we snaked along with the Colorado River through the mountains--wide sweepers on smooth roads with a gorgeous river running alongside and black-eyed Susans waving from the shoulder. Pretty nifty.

We got to our destination by one thirty, an historic hotel built in 1893. Hotel Colorado, in Glenwood Springs. (Check out the website. It has an interesting history.) One of my feller’s coworker’s husband suggested we stop in Glenwood Springs, so I searched the internet and found this place, a four story sandstone building right across from the hot springs. It was built in 1893 as a luxury getaway for the rich. The staff was very accomodating, even giving us special motorcycle parking. I think my feller enjoyed driving on the sidewalks a little too much.

According to the hotel, the Teddy Bear was named here during a visit from Theodore Roosevelt, who was in the area bear hunting, and when he became ill, the staff made a stuffed bear and gave it to him. My feller and Teddy had a very meaningful conversation. You can tell by the looks on their faces. My feller also found himself a nice ghostly girlfriend. And we didn't believe them when they said the place was haunted...


















The town is classic American charm, with the Colorado River running through the middle, and a downtown district made up of turn-of-the century (20th) buildings. I reckon it mostly caters to tourists—lots of good restaurants and shops.
.
The great thing about getting here so early was having time to go to the hot springs. This thing is HUGE, packed with people, two pools (one 104 degrees, the other cooler). We swam for a couple of hours. Cleaned up for dinner. Ate a great meal at Juicy Lucy’s. And went back to the Hot Springs. I’m so relaxed right now, I have to prop up my hand to type.

Tomorrow we hit our final destination. Denver. I’m not going to say it will be a boring ride, ‘cause we said that about today, and boy were we wrong. Surprise! Surprise!

Until tomorrow…

Later Gators

Day Three--Tropic, Utah to Green River, Utah

I'm super tired after a challenging day of riding, so I'm going to make it short. My brain is feeling a bit mushy. I'll let the video do talking.





I'm all about Scenic Byway 12. Not only do you get the classic Utah red rocks, you also get high altitudes and pine trees, the green as vibrant as the earlier red. If you're ever in this part of Utah, it's well worth the trip, even with the construction we had to drive through. Loose gravel on winding mountain roads with no guard rails don't combine well with motorcycles, but fortunate for us, we met "The Desert Doctor" during our breakfast stop in Escalante, and he told us about the conditions so we were prepared for the gravel and took it nice and slow. Some other motorcyclists we passed did NOT look happy. At one point, an escort truck had to lead us through. But it was so worth it. From 12, we turned off onto 24. Again, a perfect choice. Capitol Reef wins my vote so far for coolest rocks, sheer cliffs that went vertical for what looked like miles. Intense.




Yesterday, I was all about pie, noticing every restaurant advertising the treat. (Last night's mixed fruit pie was very good, btw). Today, I fixated on barns. I don't know why. Pie makes sense. Barns? Maybe it's because we don't see barns in California. Or maybe my hillbilly Kentucky roots are shining through. Beats me.








And speaking of beat... time to sleep.

Until tomorrow....


zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Day Two--Mesquite, NV to Tropic, UT

Such a great day, where to begin...

Breakfast? Okay. St. George, at the Bear Paw Cafe, located on historic Main Street in an area loaded with charm. I'm discovering our country is riddled with historic Main Streets, which is good. Certainly better than strip malls. I found the place thanks to an internet search, and even though the grouchy mountain bike guy's blog said it was "overrated," we decided to go anyway. Glad we did. My apple-stuffed french toast was de-licious.














From there, it was off to Zion National Park. WOW. What a place! Talk about feeling small in the world, with the giant red cliffs dwarfing us on either side. Spectacular. In case you're wondering what it's like to ride a motorcycle through Zion, here's a taste.


I'd like to say the sepia video was an intentional artistic choice, but, ummm.... no. It's hard to change settings while shooting one handed and steering with the other. Sadly, the sepia takes away the vibrancy of the red cliffs, which were made redder by the rain. But... you get the idea, right?
The roads through the park are also red, like the rocks, and smooth, with great hook around turns as you climb--fun, but not overly challenging. The ride through the park ended too quickly, maybe twenty miles or so. One of the best parts was riding through the caves. Tomorrow, I think we hit Bryce Canyon. I can hardly wait.







Oh yeah... did I mention it rained? Pretty cool. Literally. Had to stop and put rain gear on. We've been really lucky with weather. Yes, it's been raining, but because of that the temperatures have been mild, and with the sun behind the clouds, very comfortable with little squinting. Yes, in fact, those ARE sideways raindrops coming down on my Sportster!










We scored on our stop for the night: Tropic, Utah's Bryce Country Cabins, another internet find thanks to a tip from of our pal Chris.






Charm doesn't do the place justice. Individual log cabins situated on a twenty-acre farm. The field of alfalfa is our view out the back side of the cabin, and there are swinging wooden chairs to sit and ponder the beauty--the alfalfa, not the goofy girl.







And did I mention the critters?? Goats (yay! goats!), sheep, horses, bison, chickens...



...perfect for critter lovers like us.

I wonder if this precious goat would fit on my motorcycle? Hmmm....

And since we started with food, we'll end on food. Dinner in Tropic, at Clark's Restaurant. I had the delicious ruby trout. So good.



We brought home a slice of mixed fruit pie for later. Speaking of pie, as we were riding today, I started thinking about my family's obsession with pie. On our cross-country family trips, the most important thing to find was pie. And not just any pie. It had to be homemade. Twice today, I saw restaurants along the way touting homemade pie. It made me think of our family vacations with great fondness.

Well, I've certainly rambled on. Time to go.

We had a lot of great pictures today. Check out the photo album on www.socal67.com for a few more. Don't want to slow the site down too much or bore our audience (hi mom!) so we won't put them all up, just enough to give the flavor of the trip.

Until tomorrow...

Later gators!

Day One—Orange County, CA to Mesquite, NV

In case you were wondering what NBC airs at three in the morning, it’s Meet the Press with David Gregory. I know, because that’s what woke us up to begin our great motorcycle adventure. Woo hoo! Raring to go! We look wide-awake, don’t we? I knew we shouldn’t have stayed up until midnight! Oy.




But hey! It’s been a great adventure so far. I’ve gotta tell ya… something happened on the ride today, something so nifty, so insanely cool and fantastic that I giggled in my helmet for miles.

But… I’ll get to that in a bit.

Back to this morning. Once we got everything loaded and secured, we hit the road by the light of the crescent moon. No traffic. Nice cool temps—in fact, a little too cool since I had only the vented jacket and tee. But hey! Complaining about being cold knowing 100+ temps were waiting over the hill made no sense—so like any good Motor Doll, I bucked it up and bore the cold even though, as we crested the Cajon Pass, my teeth chattered in my head so loud it sounded like Halloween skeletons rattling in my helmet.

The cold didn’t last long. When we stopped in Baker at eight a.m. the giant thermometer already read 96 degrees. Hot.


We fueled bodies and bikes, my feller filled the CamelBaks at the Mad Greek where we dined, we donned the cool vests (or at least I did), and hit the road. Because we’re riding Sportsters (which have small tanks), we have to stop for gas every hundred miles, which is okay because it gives us a chance to stretch: Victorville, Baker, Vegas, and our final stop in Mesquite, which is where we’re staying for the night.






We arrived at noon. We both wanted to keep riding, but since we had reservations (and if we kept going, it would throw off our reservations for the rest of the trip) we stopped.

Went for a swim. Ate a swell dinner at the Casino. My feller posed with the natives.


























But really… you don’t give a rat’s ass about any of that, now do you? You want to hear about the super-groovy thing, right?

Okay. Here goes:

Just as the Las Vegas Strip came into view off the 15, a flash lit up the sky in the mountains north of Vegas. A bright white, zig-zag shaped flash. Uh oh, right?

Remember a couple of days ago I was freaking out about the whole riding in rain thing?

Well... the opportunity came, day one. As we left Vegas and neared the Sheep Mountain Range, the lightning grew more frequent. And as we climbed the grade, the rain began. I can’t begin to describe the feeling of riding through a lightning storm in the mountains. All of my senses were engaged. The smell of the wet desert. The taste of the rain. The feel of the drops hitting my neck. The visual spectacular taking place on either side of the road. Yes, I was a bit worried my chrome Sportster would turn into a rolling lightning catcher, but thankfully, I out-rode the bolts. Go Sporty, go! Seriously, the second the rain came and the lightning starting going mad, I started giggling and didn’t stop until we rode back out into the hot desert where our clothes dried within minutes. The experience was THAT COOL.

Well… that’s it. My thrilling story. Was it worth reading through to the end to find out the mystery? I hope so.

Until tomorrow (which is supposed to be a full day of thunderstorms ☺ )…

Later gators.

For my feller's account of the day and more pictures, go to www.socal67.com.

Mo-Do B Nearly Gets Ditched

It's late, nearly eleven p.m. and our plan is to get up at four to leave, so I'll make this brief--cause I'm BEAT.

To get to the point? About three o'clock today, I was seriously worried I was going to get left behind for the big trip (not that my feller would ditch me or anything... at least not on purpose, right?... Nah...). It would be just like Nashville all over again, me waving goodbye and then going back into the house with the World's Worst Cat, Zoe and a kitchen remodel a quarter of the way done, while he rode across country living the dream.

Here's what happened:

We got everything packed--amazingly, it all fit--and decided to go out for a test run to make sure nothing would fall off as we motored down the road. Good news? It didn't. Bad news? My brake lights and turn signals had gone wonky, as in not working. My feller spent all day trying to fix the problem (check out www.socal67.com for the details), and finally found the problem after dinner.


Woo hoo!!!! I still get to go!!!!

And now... I must sleep.

Until tomorrow--

Later gators

The Forecast

Oh my. Last night, we checked the ten-day outlook for Utah. The forecast? Yes. That's right. THUNDERSTORMS. In fact, most of our trip looks as if we'll be riding through rain. Swell, huh? Well... I wanted an adventure, right? And what could be more adventurous than riding through curvy mountain roads in the rain? Oh my. At least there's the saving caveat of "Isolated."



The two Sportsters. Feller will be on the red one in the foreground, and I, of course, will be on the chrome one. Ain't they purty?

On the up side, our Rev Pack motorcycle luggage came.

My feller strapped them onto the Sportsters and we did a test pack, stuffing them with towels and blankets. They seem to work great. Question is, will it be enough? Two weeks? In this?

With a bag this small, my options will be sorely limited. I mean, even
though according to Facebook I'm "0% Girl," I'm still a mood dresser and like to have options. But... it's not like I need cute outfits since no one will see them underneath my riding gear, right?

Acutally, the bigger problem is packing all of
our electronics: My SLR camera, both of our G cameras, both of our computers, chargers... you know, everything it takes to stay connected. Man. Life sure was simplier before all of this simplifying technology, eh?

Went to Auto Club and got a stack of maps. And the sporting goods store for padded bicycle shorts to maybe cushion the ride.



Made reservations at the kitty boarders for the world's worst cat, Zoe.













It's all coming together. Now, if only the sun will shine next week.

Until Sunday, later gators.