Get Busy Living

"I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living. or get busy dying."

- Andy Dufresne, Shawshank Redemption


My Fall 2015 bike trip was 14 days and just about 5000 miles. About 90 percent of that was incredible, the rest I'll get to later.

Pants pays cash for his toys - that has been the rule with me and Mama for almost 30 years now, and it's worked quite nicely for me. I've always had something to play with and most of it comes with a motor. I've had ski boats, fishing boats, dirt bikes, ATVs - you name it. I've also had many street motorcycles, and for the past 5 years, those toys have consumed my passion. Explaining this to a non-rider is futile. I try but in the end, they just dont get it. For the most part, I've bought used equipment, but I saved my nickels for 4 years to buy the motorcycle of my dreams, a BRAND NEW Yamaha FJR and in May of 2015, that dream came true.

I spent the next 4 months customizing my new toy to my exact needs and wants, mostly with creature comforts that make long distance touring more fun. At the same time, I planned and plotted for my next adventure. A dream bike should accompany a bucket list maiden voyage, so I decided to go west for a change. I knew that pulling off a trip of this sort would take no less than 2 weeks, so I put in for plenty of vacation time early, and was diligent about keeping current tabs on my work all the way up to Go Day so as not to leave my office in a shambles.

I invited many friends to join me, but it is hard for people to take off this long. I met Andrew (Redfish Hunter) and his Dad a couple years ago on an ST forum day ride invite. All three of us hit it off immediately and have remained good friends. Andrew is an electronics technician that works at a petro-chemical plant near Baton Rouge. He has a good head on his shoulders and a heart as big as Texas. Andrew tends to plan things, and as a planner myself, I certainly understand his motives. But Ive learned to use the bike trips as a way to get out of the box. Let the plan develop on its own. Let your mind wander in the now, rather than worry about the later. So I challenged Andrew to give this a try - I'm not sure how much he liked it.

Andrews dad, Mr. Hillary, is a rare bird indeed. At 70 years young, he rides that FJR like it's on a rail. His demeanor is somewhat ironic. While a man of few words, his overall attitude is very friendly and personable. He's the kind of man you can be very comfortable with just sitting and saying nothing. He'd rather not be bothered with idle ********. On the other hand, in the right circumstances, he's the life of the party. He has had 4 lifetimes of experience, and if I got my pick of a companion to be stuck on a deserted island, I'd have a hard time finding a better candidate. Just a real cool dude!

On day 3, we were joined by Ramjt (John), who lives in Illinois. Join rides a 2015 FJR and works in networks for a defense contractor. John is very easy going and we had great conversation along the way. I enjoyed getting to know him. On day 7, John split off on his own way.

The Redfish don't camp, so we were challenged but made it work. Camping 14 nights in a row seems stupid, so at times, I chose hotel/cabin with the Redfish, other times I camped with John, and still other times I camped or moteled on my own. Again, this is the beauty of no plan.

The weather was truly unbelievable. I'll cut to the chase in 5000 miles, I got FIVE (I counted them) rain drops on my windshield on the last day about 10 miles from my house. I dont know how I can travel half way around the country for 2 weeks and not get rained on, but it happened. Temperature range was extremely great, though. In west Texas on day 2, we hit a high of 105. Conversely, one morning in Colorado, it was 43 at day break. Packing for a trip like this takes a lot of work. Even so, as is usually the case, I brought way more than I needed.

Andy Dufresne may not have been speaking directly to me in that movie, but I felt his words none the less. I believe there comes a time in everyones life when they realize they are not going to live forever. That revelation doesn't accompany morbid thoughts. For some it occurs gradually, others instantaneously but regardless, when it hits them, there must be a sense of urgency. It has been that way for me about 4 years now. I feel a need to explore, to reach out well into the horizon and see the world for what it really is - good and beautiful. On this trip, I got busy living.

I hope you enjoy the pics.



Day 1, Lafayette, LA to Sherman TX

I slept well the night before and I loaded my bike early while sipping on some coffee. Andrew and I decided to meet about 100 miles from my house at 10:00 am. I leave early and choose to take the less traveled path there since I have extra time. The new bike is all loaded up and ready.



As it is early Fall, the sugar cane is tall, but not quite ready to be harvested yet.



I stopped for a minute to watch my own private air show. Crop Duster pilots must love their job!



I pulled into the designated meeting place on time and the 3 musketeers are ready to move northwest!



This is how the rest of day 1 went. Mr. Hillary prefers to ride behind Andrew, and he usually is just behind him. I often wondered if he was following too close, but to be truthful, any time a braking situation presented itself, Pop was on the brakes well before his son. Very good reflexes on the senior gentlemen.



We stopped in Logansport for some lunch (Mexican pretty good), and then continued onward. No one wants to ride through Dallas/Fort Worth, so we chose a more northward route that kept us off the slab. We ended up here in the Sherman, Texas area.



The horses look pretty content in the stable (personally I like the red head)



We rode about 5 miles to a local BBQ joint. Again - pretty good, but not really food **** material.



Back at the motel, Andrew had to perform emergency surgery on his dad's heated grips.



A fine start to a great adventure.

Day 2 Sherman, TX to Tucumcari, NM.




We all slept pretty good and woke up refreshed and ready to go. It was warm already early in the morning, so we wasted no time getting moving. Day 2 started out pretty much like day 1. Hwy 287 heading northwest is very quiet this morning.



Looking quite well, sir!



Hello to you as well!



I've never seen a modern wind farm before. These things were in the prairie by the thousands! Good place to put them too that constant 20-25 mph crosswind was kicking our butts!



The rest area stops in Texas are very nice.



But they have unusual hazards to be concerned about.



I convince Andrew to try a little detour before Amarillo. I noticed a little more curvy route on the way and we gave it a shot. We were rewarded handsomely. This is the Capstone Canyon.



And this is Palo Duro Canyon. It's pretty green for west Texas.





We rode along the scenic driveway for the canyon. There are caves you can hike, but it's like 105 degrees now and we are certainly not up for that.

It's nice.



Now back on the road, in Amarillo, we hopped on the slab for a little run west.



And shortly thereafter, we arrived at our destination for the evening.



The Blue Swallow is an old Route 66 motel originally built in the 30s and fully restored to 50s décor. Pretty cool looking place.





We got settled in and rode a block down the road to our dinner destination. These peeps like their beef.



Now this is worthy of food ****!



We rode back to the motel, sat outside among the neon, and chewed the fat a little while. I'm having a great time.


Day 3, Tucumcari, NM to Navajo Lake State Park, New Mexico



I slept very well and even learned that Andrew washed my dirty clothes! Great service on this trip.

It feels a bit cooler than yesterday morning and we rode a couple blocks down the highway to get some breakfast.



Mr. Hillary is not waiting for any darned picture. Good breakfast.



Across the street is an old gas station that, although non-functional, has been restored. We thought it was neat.



Back at the Blue Swallow, while we were packing our bikes for departure, out of who knows where, Ramjt rides up and introduces himself.



He decides to tag along with us a while and within 5 minutes of leaving Tucumcari, the views start getting much better.



I suppose no self respecting ride report would be complete without a DAM stop!



I kind of like the composure of this picture.



We continue north toward, stopping along the way to look and sniff. I'm already starting to see the vastness of the west. Although much of this is grazing land for livestock, otherwise, hardly any of it is developed. There were times that we'd go miles without seeing so much as a shack. This is very different for a boy from the gulf coast.



Near the town of Mora, NM, the speed limit drops from 60 to 45 very abruptly. How do I know this? Im glad you asked. I know this because the Mora County Sheriffs Dept. pulled us over to tell us. He said he clocked us at 62 and I have every belief that he was correct. After all presenting paperwork as requested, the nice deputy let us go with a warning.



I took the lead for a stint but as you can see, your position in the pack doesn't matter for this ride it is ALL good.



We arrived in the town of Angel Fire, NM just in time for lunch.



Pastrami on rye for Pants



I can't recall Johns order, but obviously it was finger licking good.



After lunch, it was more of the same - ride, look, enjoy, laugh.



We crossed the Rio Grande and took a walk.



There is a strong odor of sage present, but it is quite pleasant and it makes me think of spaghetti and meatballs.



I got a thing for bridges. You will just have to bear with me.



At the overlook, I sat down for a minute to reflect and be thankful. I can see the allure of the Rio Grande. I imagine back in the days of the old west, this place must have been literally an oasis in a very dry dessert. In sorts, it became an oasis for me too. It seems this entire year has been a blur. I've been running like a headless chicken for as long as I can remember. Not running away, mind you. Just flat out running like the wind. Deadlines, reports, audits, projects, obligations - it has been quite crazy. A persons mental aptitude is not like a light switch - you can't just turn it off. Getting into real vacation mode always takes some time for me.

Sitting there on the edge of that canyon, watching the endless horizon it was like something just said "You have come to the water. You can now quench your thirst. You can let it go."



Now on Hwy 64 heading west out of Taos, NM, we start climbing into the forest. The road is desolate I'm leading and enjoying every single mile of it.



Close to Bloomfield, NM, the Redfish decide to press forward and find a motel. John and I chose to camp tonite.



It's a beautiful park and lake. The camp sites are a little tight, but our neighbors were quite respectful.



It got dark fast and unlike places in the East, grocery stores are few and far between in these parts. So I pulled from my emergency stash food and made due. Back home, I'd never consider eating this, but out there, with about 6 ounces of my favorite whiskey it was just fine.



We bought a few sticks of firewood and had nice conversation before turning in. I'm in it now the real world is literally a thousand miles away.

Day 4, Navajo Lake State Park to Marble Canyon, AZ



Great night sleeping under the stars. The air is dry and cool and I can breathe very clearly. I take a shower and while breaking camp, John fixed us some coffee.



And we sat down to watch the light come up on the lake from our campsite. If you sit still, you can see the glare starting on the west side of the lake (left viewing) and watch it creep ever slowly toward the East. It's petty good stuff, man.



We ride over the other side of the park to greet Andrew and Mr. Hillary in Bloomfield, gas up the horses, and get going. The weather is gorgeous, I'm rested and comfortable, and I'm just having a wonderful time.

First stop Shiprock. I still can't figure out why they call it that. In their defense, there just ain't many ships here to mimic.



Everyone is having so much fun. There are no complaints, no questions no one really cares where we go. It seems great in all directions.

Speaking of which, we stopped at this place.



I thought this was a National Monument, in which we'd all get in free with our National Parks Annual Pass. But it is not. A word of comment here - the Indians are well tuned in to the art of making money. Anything you want to see in this land is going to cost you. I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but it can get expensive.

Regardless, since we paid, I might as well get the money shot. I tried, but failed miserably.



Shortly thereafter, we crossed state lines.



I've often wondered how the states got their borders. I've watched a great series on TV - How the States got their shapes. The back stories on this are entertaining, but for me, I've found that the geography tells the bulk of the story. Every time I cross a State line, there is a distinct change in geography. It's hard to believe that on one side of an imaginary line exists one kind of dirt, then on the other side it magically changes. But for the most part, this is what I have found.

No exception in Utah as soon as enter, we start seeing magnificent sandstone cliffs.



In Bluff, Utah, we got held up an hour of so by some kind of parade being conducted on US Highway 191.



Once that cleared up, we rode over to Gooseneck State Park. Nice overlook of the San Juan River.

The colors on this rock formation are mesmerizing to me. I've never seen anything like that. Its like a natural quilting of some kind.



We rode by a rock formation named Mexican Hat.



And then we steered toward Monument Valley. This is what Andrew refers to as the Forest Gump Shot. I like my mode of travel better than Forests.'





Peace to you as well, my new friend!



We turn into the Monument Valley Indian Reservation and wait for a while to give them our $20.00 entry fee. Hot and sweaty, we dismount and followed Andrew into the lodge restaurant. Andrew wanted to eat lunch there and enjoy the panoramic view. Unfortunately, we were too late for lunch and too early for dinner. They did have soup and salad still offered, so we ordered that and made the best of it.

As you can see, the effort was not very hard.





I find myself wandering in my imagination. I've never seen this part of the world before, and it differs so greatly from areas of the country I'm very familiar with. It is hard for me to accept this place in its undeveloped state. Most places I know have long been taken over by .progress. Even restricted places are bordered and bounded by the conveniences of our modern life. But this place is greatly untamed. Its vastness is really indescribable to me at this point.

Continuing toward Page, AZ, we stop as a group late afternoon to discuss the situation. We know that Andrew and Mr. Hilary are going to motel somewhere in Page. John and I are planning to camp past Page near Marble Canyon. Looking at the map doesn't give us a feeling that if this public BLM campground is full, other choices will present themselves.

So John and I decide to split and make haste toward the campground with high hopes. I'm leading us on what seems like a 25 mile stretch of board straight road. I can see the road for miles ahead. I'm running 25-ish over the speed limit and passing lines of vehicles at a pop before merging into my lane at around a buck fifteen. The FJR views it as childs play. She is pulling in whatever fuel I give her, and farting it out the back end effortlessly and without complaint. To be clear, I was speeding and doing so intentionally. But the conditions are very safe and I'm on my game.

About 15 miles into this, I crossed an unmarked Popo in a black SUV. In my rear view mirror, I saw him flash his lights and hit the brakes hard. Oh **** - this trip just got a lot more expensive. I slowed it down to the limit and watched my mirrors. He got well behind us but had no lights on. We realized that he decided to pace us and see if we learned our lesson. Message received, officer thank you for your kindness.

Past Page on Hwy 89A, we run through a dark tight slot in the canyon gaining altitude. The road curves to the left and we are greeting with this unlimited view. It was kind of like an I-max movie and I had to stop.

There, I could see the road ahead of us, along with the road to the campground on the other side of the Colorado River.



The low light now is providing some great views of the area.



We arrived at the Lees Ferry Campground and were pleased to learn there were plenty of spots available and everyone gets some kind of unobstructed view. We pitched our tents, fixed a cocktail, and sat down to watch the big orange ball fall behind us.



Again, no grocery means no cooking, but John brought some freeze dried meals and he was nice enough to share. They are not bad, in my opinion.



After dinner I lit my pipe, John a cigar, and we took a walk down to the river to star gaze and share thoughts. I'm in the mode now, and I can hardly contain myself. I have no predispositions about what tomorrow brings, nor what happened yesterday.

I'm just taking Andy Dufresnes advice and it is sweet!

Day 5, Marble Canyon, AZ to Zion Ponderosa Campground, Zion National Park.



The tequila works like is always does and once my mind anchored the tent firmly, my slumber was uninterrupted and restful.

Today is Sunday, and while I'm not an overly religious man, my wife and I enjoy our weekly reminder that we are not always in charge. Today however, I think I will get my spirituality much more directly from the creator.



We pack up leisurely and stop at the river on the way out.



Did I mention that Ive got a thing for bridges?



I texted Andrew and learned that they will be heading north out of Page. We will be heading South toward Page and hope to tour Antelope Canyon this morning. We actually crossed paths with the Redfish going, and it was cool to see familiar bikes.

Unfortunately, Antelope Canyon was PACKED with people and it seemed apparent that we weren't going to get through that in less than a half day, so we agreed to save it for our next trip.

We turn north on Hwy 89A and incredibly, it looks to be another beautiful day.



In no particular hurry, we stopped wherever the mood suited us. Here are some cliff dwellings identified along the road.





We didn't stop at every overlook or scenic view, but admittedly, most were hard to pass up.



I've seen the Grand Canyon before on the south rim, but since we are so close, we thought a detour to the north rim would be cool.



The ride into the park is terrific as it flanks some nice looking prairie land.



We encountered some wildlife obstacles.



But it was well worth it for the awesome views. In my humble opinion, the North Rim is far more enjoyable because it is much less crowded.





After a snack on the rim, we turned northwest toward Utah in route to our destination for the evening.



The Redfish were already there, and we chose a nice campsite near the laundry and shower facility.



We all ate dinner at the lodge restaurant, and we even got to try some local brews.



Andrews chicken fried steak is covered in gravy



Mr. Hilary seemed to enjoy his burger as well.



After dinner and some conversation, we turned in for some well deserved rest.

Day 6 Zion National Park

For the first time, I don't have to worry about picking up the camp because we are staying here two nights. After a hearty breakfast at the lodge, we ride 10-ish miles to our play house for the day.



I've long dreamed about visiting Zion. But even my dreams couldnt prepare me for this.



Yeah Dollies, I know thats a great looking motorcycle, but we would all feel better if you guys would just stay put for a minute.



The drive through the park was crowded, but with these views, nobodys in a hurry to get anywhere.



Another feature of Zion is that you must take a free shuttle to all of the sights. At first I thought this to be very inconvenient, but in retrospect, it was fantastic. The shuttles are very frequent and we rarely waited for a ride. While riding through the park, we could concentrate on the sights and not get distracted.

I wanted to hike the Angels Landing trail. Its about 5 miles round trip, but very strenuous. So at the shuttle parking lot, I separated from the others and agreed to meet them later. I brought my walking shoes and my fanny pack with some water and horse food, and left my riding gear at the bike.

Shortly from the shuttle station Im huffing, but having a blast.



Toward the end of the hike, the ascent to the top is so steep that you have to use this chain to pull yourself up. The trail gets very thin and it was challenging.



But in the end, the view is second to none.



I sat on this shaded area at the top to gaze out and give thanks for my blessings. Truthfully, I cant believe Im doing this. Five years ago, if you would have told me that Id be right here, right now, I would never had believed you. A flatlander lives his life, by definition, in two dimensions. My imagination is playing wonderful games with me and for about 30 minutes, I am very content to just sit there and listen.

That could have been the best 5 miles of walking in my life.





I also wanted to hike the Narrows trail, but knew that my energy would not permit me to go far. So I walked from the trail head about a mile, stopped to put my feet in the Virgin River, and then walked back.

Back at the shuttle parking lot, the critters are all enjoying their day.



I found John at the parking lot and we rode together back to the Redfish cabin.



The Redfish went to the grocery and Andrew cooked some pig for us.



There we met Ms. Joan, a New Yorker on vacation with her sisters. She asked if she could grill her hot dogs on our charcoal and we shared some nice conversation with her.



Damm fine meal well done, Andrew!



Later in the evening, John and I retreated to our campsite to dream about recent and future adventures. I keep thinking that surely this (wherever Im at) is as good as it is going to get. And if that were true, I would rejoice in my good fortune. But the truth is everyday it continues to stay just as good or even better. Im having the trip of my life.

Day 7, Zion National Park to Tropic, UT



Once again, this dry cool air is agreeing with me as I slept like a newborn baby. I cannot believe the weather is holding for this long. We have not been wet yet.

I woke up early to pack my tent and we agreed to meet at the cabin for breakfast. I burnt the bacon while Andrew cooked the eggs.



Good way to start the day!



Today, we are heading toward Bryce Canyon, but with plenty of time to get basically no distance, I convinced the group to detour a short loop through the Dixie National Forest. The temperature is in the 50s and as the leader, Im seeing deer scatter everywhere even in the mid morning, so we are taking it very slow. At this stop, we learned that there is an abundance of lava rocks here from an ancient volcanic explosion.



Another added bonus is that as we climb near and around 8,000 feet, we are starting to see quite a bit of fall foliage color. Back home, we really dont get this from our hard woods. The leaves from many of our native species fall green. I am greatly enjoying this change.





We stop here, show our annual passes to allow free entry, and then walk around.



Come on up the view is quite fine!!!





Im sure that Andrew is having a good time, but from his pictures to be honest, he is not very convincing.



We all really enjoyed Cedar Breaks National Monument and recommend it highly to any of you interested in something different.



Now heading toward Bryce, the road is no less beautiful.



In route, we all decided to picnic at Bryce for lunch, so we stopped at a local grocery in Panguitch (seen in the distance here) and picked up a few supplies.



Then it was just a short ride to Bryce.



We stopped and overlooked at several points within the Canyon. We learned about the Hoo Doos, which of course are sandstone formations. Although Bryce is very close to Zion, they are completely different geographies.







My son really enjoyed Bryce when he recently visited here. I can certainly see why.



Now early in the afternoon, the group is getting hungrier than a pack of wolves, so we stopped at a picnic area to eat.



Good stuff, man.



Then we rode to the end of the park drive, and turned around and backed out of the park. This natural bridge is formed from millions of years of wind and water and is still enlarging today.



We gassed up just outside of the park. The fuel prices are about 50% higher than at home, but with almost 50 mpg, it doesnt sting too much. What does take some concentration is the vast distances between gas stations. In some cases, fuel can be 75 miles away or farther. Because of this unknown, we are refilling more often.

Now heres something you dont see every day. Putting the truck before the horse?



Now its time to say goodbye to our new friend John. He decided to camp at a state park close by, and tomorrow he will go another way. We bid him so long and farewell. I enjoyed my time with John, he is a great man.

It is also time to be thinking about accommodations for the evening. After 4 nights in my tent, I was ready for a real mattress. So we each sprung for a cabin in Tropic, Utah.



We rode over to the local grocery store to pick up some food to cook. There, a nice couple pulls up in the beautiful XS1100 Special. From Oregon, they were on the tail end of a 30 day tour. Imagine our shock when the owner told us it has 315,000 miles on it.



Back at the ranch (or cabin as it were), while Andrew was fidgeting with whatever the heck he was fidgeting with, me and the senior gentlemen decided to get down to some serious business.



Oh yeah, this is what Andrew was messing with.



I like mine medium well, and it was perfecto!!



Good times.



I retreated back to my cabin and spent an hour or so reading email and looking through my pictures.

Day 8, Tropic, Utah to Hite, Utah



Once again, Im up well before the dawn, very well rested, and eager for the next chapter in this incredible journey. I had time to wipe off the bugs from my bike, time well spent to be sure. Andrew fixed us some eggs for breakfast and soon we are heading toward Boulder on the wonderful Hwy 12



A word about the riding here. The roads are generally good, but many have grooves in them, or some gravel in the lane. They are twisty, but not nearly as technical as, say, North Carolina. But this country is wide open you can usually see well around the curve long before you even approach it. So if you are looking for a peg scraper tour, my advice would be to seek travel elsewhere. But if you are looking for great riding amidst world renowned scenery, look no further.

Then again, there are some spots..



At this overlook, the road narrows giving a panoramic 360 degree view.



It is very easy to find the creeks and rivers, which are covered with green trees like a line on a map.



I told the guys I wanted to detour from Hwy 12 in Boulder, UT on the Burr Trail road. Originally a game trail, this ancient road was used by indigenous people and settlers as long as anybody can remember. At first, it wasnt much to think about, but when we got into the canyon holy cow!

+1

Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero

It's really hard to do these overlooks justice with a camera. I fear no one makes a lens that wide. At one point Andrew quipped that taking pictures is a futile endeavor and to an extent, I agree.



We rode approximately 30 miles to the end of the paved road, which coincidentally is the border for the National Park.



Even the paved road had quite a bit of gravel. Great care was called for.



For a minute, I thought I spotted a Martian, but it was just Andrew playing in the park.



Pretty darn good if I dont say so myself, sir.



Backed on hwy 12, its lunch time.



My burger has some truffle on it. Different.



Apple pie and cream for dessert all around. Good crust, in my opinion.



After lunch, the ride north toward Torrey was more open, but no less beautiful.



We turned East on Hwy 24, heading toward Capital Reef. National Park



We rode through the park drive and stopped at Capital Gorge.



There are many U-Pick It fruit orchards in and around the National Park. Not many were producing then but we could have picked some apples. However, time was starting to press, so we moved on.

In the town of Hanksville, we stopped for fuel and to see about accommodations. I quickly learned that there were all kinds of camping around me including HUGE amounts of BLM land that I could primate camp on just about anywhere. However, motel or cabin choices were very limited and those around were all booked up.

Unfortunately, this was the end of the line for the Redfish and I. They decided to press forward another 2 or 3 hours to the town of Blanding, UT where they felt they had the best chance of obtaining a room. Our departure was very brief as it was getting late in the day and they had a good distance left to ride. But we all shook hands, thanked each other for the terrific time, and vowed to re-convene back in Louisiana.

A few years ago, this part of the trip would have terrified me. I've now come to actually enjoy some solace and alone time. It gives me more opportunity to think about things.

I picked up some supplies and headed toward the Colorado River. I easily found the campground at Hite on the river, and was pleased to discover the entire campground empty, except these people.



Heidi and Marcelle are a retired Swiss couple that is taking 3 years to travel all of the United States and Mexico. They shipped their own motorhome from Germany and have perfected the art of renewing their 6 month visas.

I set up camp and walked over to introduce myself. I hardly got my name out when Marcelle asked me if I would like a cold beer. I like them already! Then he asked me which kind of beer I preferred, pale, amber, or dark. No, I LOVE them!!!

Cheers to you my new friends!!



We had wonderful conversation as their English is very good. Soon, the sun is getting low, so I bid them good day and walked back to my camp. I rode the Sherpa down toward the river and picked up some dry driftwood.



Back at the camp, the evening show is just getting started.



As you can see, Ive got it rough, man. I mean I am REALLY struggling out here.



Darkness fell and I fixed my simple meal.



They I made a nice protective fire ring and lit a low fire to enjoy and think about my day before turning in for the night.



Day 9, Hite, UT to Moab, UT



Primitive camping by myself usually means I am going to bed early. Last night, I probably hit the sack before 9 pm. The good news is when you go to bed early, you can get up early. I got up before first light and packed my camping gear. Then I fixed some breakfast.



And then I sat in the morning peace.





As I exited the campground, I stopped to take one more picture. This is a good place to camp.



The vastness of this area surpasses even anything I've seen recently. There are identifiable townships on the map (Fry Canyon, for example), but when the GPS says I've gotten there, I am hard pressed to find ANY structure, light, or other material that could at least offer a hint of civilization. Thankfully, I am well supplied and fueled and need nothing, so I press on.

Still fairly early in the morning, I stop here.



The park ranger told me that there are 3 main overlooks from the scenic drive where I can see the natural bridges, and each one has a walking trail to the bridge.

I forget the names of each bridge, but remember that they all are given names from the indigenous tribal people. Here's the first one:



And the second.



The third bridge looked the most appealing to me, so I put my walking shoes on and take the trail.



The trees at this place are incredible. They grow in rock and for the most part, with exposed roots!



This little critter thinks he is hiding from me. I keep his secret safe.



The closer I get to the bridge, the more majestic is appears.



Having the whole place to myself, and using the bridge as shade, I lie down under the bridge to rest and wonder.





Then something catches my eye. The more I study it, the more realistic it becomes. See if you can see.

Mama Lizard, Baby Lizard, and the Fish



I hear these two gentlemen walking down the trail and when they appear, one of them sees me lying down and ask if I am OK. I tell them I was never better and ask them if they would like to see the 2 lizards and the fish? I convinced them to lie down with me and after a short presentation, left the place for them to enjoy in their own peace.



In Blanding, I filled up with gas and checked in on home and work. All systems go there, so I asked a local for a good lunch suggestion. She indicated that she worked at a great place in the next town, Montecello. She seemed honest enough, so I gave it a shot.



Indeed, she was very honest!



Moosetracks in Montecello, UT for Pants. I'm living large, friends!



I met a nice retired gentleman from Seattle pulling a small camper with his Jeep. He sat with me and we chatted while we ate. For some reason, traveling on the bike seems to attract people. I dont really know why, but I do enjoy meeting people on my travels.

After lunch, I rode up to Shay Mountain. Plenty of color popping up here!

Plenty of cattle popping too. I will just sit back and let Mr. Minivan run recon.



I detoured a short distance to Newspaper Rock.



This was cool, but disturbing to see modern graffiti on the rock too. That **** just pisses me off - those kids need a proper spanking in front of total strangers.



Then I turned north on Hwy 191 toward Moab. Again I detoured and rode about 25 miles to this place.



You can walk and explore the entire area and see the overlook from many angles. Again, these trees are amazing!



Oh my goodness.



I found a semi-shaded spot to sit down and enjoy the view. There I had an epiphany. For days now, I've been trying to understand why the vastness of this region is having such an impression on me. I realized that it is extremely different from that which I am accustomed, but what is it that this place is telling me? What message am I missing? And how can that message be told here and now?

That afternoon, at the Needles Overlook, it hit me.

Seeing the world this way humbles a man. It makes him realize that in the grand scheme of things, we are all extremely tiny pieces of dust. Insignificant pebbles in a vast dessert of mountains, canyons, valleys, and cliffs. In the clock of life, we are here but a second. In that short time there is much to see and do, lest we miss out. We must make the very best of our second, wasting not even a fraction of it on stupid and trivial matters. We must take assessment of what is really important, and dismiss the rest as the nuisance it really is.

I wept a few tears of joy, proud of my discovery and extremely grateful to be at this place.



Back at the parking lot, I met a man from Colorado traveling on his Harley Davidson Sportster. A very nice man, we chatted a little while and I learned that he was very familiar with the area. I asked him for a recommendation for camping in Moab. Prior to leaving home, I did write down a couple of choices in the area and thought I had some good ideas. But Chris suggested I go to the campground in the middle of town. He knew they had showers and a laundry, both of which I desperately needed. So I took his advice.



Horrible idea!!! First, I paid twice as much as I have ever paid for a camp site in my life. Second, it is literally in the middle of a large city- very loud. Third, every generator laden land barge must have decided to camp here. Oh well, lesson learned I made due and set up my tent.

With still plenty of daylight left, I rode up to another National Park.



At the overlooks there, the light is getting lower and providing some great views.





I got back to my torture chamber...er... camp site about dark.



I took a shower, started a load of laundry, and then ate my supper.



About 10 pm, I inserted my ear plugs, and in true western form, with my pistol at my side, I dozed off.

Day 10, Moab, UT to Gateway, CO



Believe it or not, I actually slept pretty good. The generators were like some kind of white noise, drowning out the roadway traffic. But about 6:30, I was awoken by something that sounded like a cross between Revellie and a pack of Howler Monkeys in great distress.

Turns out the local high school band was having an early morning before school practice, they indeed suck, and the band director was going to make them repeat it until they got it right. An hour later, I left the camp with them still trying.



My first stop out of camp is only a few miles away.



Again it bears repeating the weather is stupid. How can I be so lucky, you ask? I have no clue.

This is the Courthouse Towers on the Park scenic drive, and they are breathtaking indeed.



Today I packed my motorcycle so that I could get to my walking shoes and change them frequently. I wanted to do some hiking. Early on the trail, this fella is trying to stay hidden. I couldnt help but think how tasty it would be for lunch smothered in onions and served over rice. (Bad Pants)



This is Delicate Arch. It looks like the worlds largest piece of sculpting clay. From this distance, you can see the specs of people hanging out beneath it, giving scale to its size.



At each hike, I'd take it off, and put it back on.



The Sand Arch trail is short and runs though a couple of small slot canyons.



I thought this place was so cool!



I walked a mile of so through to the Broken Arch. Here, I sat down for a while to gaze through a window of life.



This is skyline Arch although visible from the road, I hiked the ¼ mile to it.



These tasty little creatures are everywhere!



This is Tunnel Arch



And this is Pine Tree Arch.



All of the trails in this park are marked well, and most are not strenuous. There is plenty of room to find some privacy, and I think this would be a fantastic place to take kids.

They call this the Parade of Elephants.



I ride out the park this will complete the National Parks part of my trip. I really can't decide which one I liked best. They all have wondrous qualities.

John Muir was absolutely correct. These lands have to be preserved so that all people can enjoy them.



I ride back to Moab and stop for lunch.



Then I back tracked just a little south before turning east into a new world.



Once again, I hardly needed the signage to tell me as the topography changes drastically. So do the roads. Almost immediately, I was sure that I caught a flat on my rear tire. I pulled over and was perplexed to find both tires full of air. Turns out there is a ton of well blended gravel and I was slipping a little on it. I got back on track to follow these pirates for a little while.



Another important change in the scenery is the addition of that wonderful and refreshing commodity- WATER!!!



I turn north on Hwy 141 and all I can say is do NOT pass this road up. It is wonderful riding with terrific scenery and good curves.

In Gateway, Colorado, I introduced myself to the pirates and they are very nice peeps. I asked them about camping options nearby, and they suggested I ninja camp on the side of the road at this picnic area not far from there. So I went to the place, where I met. Larry.



Larry is a retired cabinet maker that as far as I can tell, has been living in his motorhome for quiet a while. There was plenty of room, and with no objections from Larry, I pitched my tent.



I asked Larry if he planned on raping or murdering me, and he gave me his word he would not. Truth is, he is a real cool dude and we had a great evening together. Our campsite runs along the Deloris River.



I fixed each of us a stiff cocktail and down to the river we go. That water is awesome on my tootsies!



Once it got dark, Larry lit a fire in the pit.



Larry offered to cook me an Onion Bun Turkey Burger with Brie on top of it. I hadn't heard of that particular combination, but it sure beat the **** out of whatever I was planning to eat, so the answer was a resounding and thankful YES.

I opened a can of corn and we made a fine meal.



After dinner, it was more of the same old song. Great conversation, great ambiance, wonderful weather (under a full moon none the less), and Pants has gotten so busy living, ole Andy would indeed be proud.

Day 11, Gateway, Colorado to Buena Vista, Colorado



Well the light started appearing and my first realization was that I was still alive and my rear end felt completely normal. That Larry is indeed a straight up dude! I packed my camping bag, fixed a quick cup of coffee, and loaded up. As I geared up, Larry opened up his Motorhome window, we exchanged greetings, and I thanked him for the company.

I turn north on Hwy 141 and the light is very low. Almost immediately, I see two HUGE Bighorn sheep close to the road and I realize that it is just a tad too early to be riding. So, I find a nice place to pull over and watch yet again another beautiful sunrise.



What a trip, ya'll. Im at a loss for words, here.



I turn southeast on hwy 50 toward Delta, Colorado. There, I see a Yamaha dealership and I stop to ask a technician about an issue I am having. My temperature readout was acting a little weird on this cool morning, and I found out it was normal.

As I'm getting back to my bike, I hear this nice throaty exhaust from a motorcycle as it passes, but I don't pay it much mind. Seconds later, I hear the same exhaust and this time it's coming toward me. The rider is on a beautiful Moto Guzzi Norge and through the helmet, I hear:

(Norge) Is that you, my Louisiana friend?

(Pants) Do I know you?

(Norge) Yes we met a couple days ago at the Needles Overlook.

Turns out it was that dude Chris, who was on his Sportster. I didnt have the heart to tell him what I thought about his camping recommendation in Moab. So we just chatted a while about things, and then went our separate ways.



I turn northeast, taking Hwy 133 toward Aspen. The roadside sights are endless, and the green is welcome.



At the top of McClure Pass, the colors of the Aspen trees are amazing.







This is Crystal Creek so peaceful.



I stopped in the town of Redstone to check this out.





In Carbondale, I gas up both the bike and myself. Great burger and salad.



I head toward Aspen, and with each curve, the color gets more and more vibrant. I've never seen this before and I feel like a kid on Christmas morning playing with the toy he wanted the most!







What an incredible day!



I ride up over the top and stop at Independence Pass.





The ride back down the other side is just as good. This is an area called Twin Lakes.



I continued on South on Highway 24 toward Buena Vista. I found several national forest campgrounds nearby and rode to them to find a site. Unfortunately, only one was open and that campground was full, so I back tracked to Buena Vista and got a nice camp site with grass from a private campground.

With my camp set up, and still some day light left, I rode about 8 miles to try something different.



There are many hot springs that run through this region and a nice long 95 degree soak was just what Pants ordered.

Squeaky clean as a whistle, I mount up and head back to town. Before doing so, I had to stop and gaze at the moon rise over the valley.



I didn't feel much like cooking (haven't really all trip long), so back in town, after I noticed a full parking lot here, I stopped and ordered some tacos to go.



Another fantastic day I fear that it just cannot get any better.

Day 12, Buena Vista, Colorado to Monte Vista, Colorado.



The campground was very quiet last night. Most of my neighbors in their land barges seem to be retired old farts. They turn in early, and don't make much noise. Others were off roaders (jeeper and ATV riders), but even they were very quiet while I slept. Nice place (Snowy Peaks Campground, Buena Vista, CO).

After packing camp and breakfast, I start heading more south. My feeling is that today I will get back to the high dessert of New Mexico, and then tomorrow start the grueling trek across Texas. I've got plenty of time and my budget is lasting well, so there is no big rush.

This is the Arkansas River and this morning, it is absolutely gorgeous.



Mt. Princton is one of Colorados Fourteen-ers: at least 14,000 feet in elevation.



I turn West on Hwy 50 and ride through the fantastic curves of Monarch Pass, then stop in Gunnison, CO for a cup of coffee and a look at the map. My plan was to ride the Million Dollar Highway (Hwy 550), which is a rite of passage for any biker, but I was disappointed to learn that they are blasting on a section of this road and because of it, road closures and traffic make it an unlikely choice now.

So West of Gunnison, I turn left on Hwy 149 and see what I can see. Not long after that, I am stopped by something unfamiliar to me.



Holy Crap!!! These cowboys are driving the herd right up the friggin road!!



For all you city slickers like myself, let me offer this observation. A cow is a HUGE animal!!!!!! I was terrified with no place to go. The cowboys had a laugh at me as they passed.



Soon I forgot my fear though, as the road is wonderful, and the sights and fall colors simply irresistible.



I roll in the town of Lake City and notice a crap load of bikers at this place. So I stopped and ordered a BLT to go. I figured I would find someplace to picnic down the road.



Then I got back on Hwy 149 and rode through Slumguillion Pass, stopping along the way to observe more of Colorados beautiful Fall colors.











On the other side of the pass, now heading slowly toward Creede, the prairie valley is wide open.



I remember Andrew suggesting that I look for the very small brown sign on the road signaling this place.



I pulled up, grabbed my lunch, walked out to the edge of the overlook, and sat down to this.





I remember thinking at that time:

It's just perfect."

Now, please do not accept that phrase at face value. You people need to know who Pants is. I have been a self-admitted perfectionist for as long as I have known myself. Oh I have tried (successfully at times) to mask myself in the face of others, and I perpetually try to talk myself into believing otherwise. In my maturity, I have learned to accept things I cannot change, and to truly accept others of differing opinions. I have seen the great benefit of living outside of the box that is my life. But as all of you well know, in the end, a spade is a spade and alas, I am a perfectionist.

Be that as it may, at that time for me, the situation indeed was perfect. The weather was absolutely gorgeous - not too cool, but certainly not warm and for 3800 miles, 12 days, and 5 states now, completely dry. The scenery was amazing: I'd overlooked, scenic viewed, scratched and sniffed, bathed in, hiked and walked, and otherwise observed some of the most beautiful land our great country has to offer. The motorcycle was fantastic I saved my money to buy the bike of my dreams in a color that rivals any work of art, all of my accessories were exactly as I expected them, my *** was not sore, and my hands and feet not tingling. The food was delicious - the rye bread was lightly toasted but not moistened by the 30 minute ride in the Styrofoam container, the thick slice applewood bacon was cooked perfectly and generously portioned, there was a single giant slice of a vine ripened tomato, and the spring mix lettuce leaves were crisp and fresh.

And most importantly, my mentality and emotional state were absolutely perfect. I spent quality time with some great friends enjoying our passions together. I met a new friend from another part of the country and had enough time to get past the formalities. Days ago, I gave up on work email and decided they will just have to sincerely give me this time for myself. I earned it and they owe it to me. My beautiful wife, who has had a trying year professionally, was genuinely happy back home with her new career. My oldest child in her second year of teaching was still beaming and excited about her new students and their learning abilities. My youngest, who studies Modern Languages at our University, was studying abroad in France and having a ball wandering Europe and soaking in their culture and history. To the best of my knowledge, nothing was broken, needing maintenance, and ZERO slips were registered in the home Complaint Box. I had neither thoughts of yesterday, nor any visions for tomorrow. I was fully and completely immersed in the waterfall and my lunch. I had a warmth in my heart that I fear few men every really get to feel. It was beautiful, it was perfect, and I knew it at the time.

Well, this is Good Stuff. I will be chiming in directly but for now, Thank You for sharing this. I know it was a bit of a challenge this time.

And shortly thereafter, in the literal blink of an eye, it was all over.



I was riding in a valley between two mountains. The general road ahead was wide open and no vehicles were observed anywhere. I let myself be distracted looking at the beautiful scenery. A gentleman was seen sitting in his pickup truck with some binoculars looking at the mountain in the distance. I later learned that he was spotting some big horn sheep he hopes to hunt soon. I casually waived to him as I rode by and remember him waiving back. In my distraction, I allowed myself to drift way over to the right in my lane as I crested a very small ridge in the valley. The road then curved to the left, which I was not prepared for and I ran out of lane to use. I ran off the road instantly at about 60 mph. By some miracle (or perhaps not), the bike managed to get itself back onto the road, but in doing so, the handlebars began to shake violently. I could no longer hold it and was thrown off the bike toward the center of the road. I believe the bike went to my right, and do not recall feeling any weight from the motorcycle during my fall.



I hit the belt sander at perhaps 40 mph, landing on both of my knees, my left upper leg, and my left forearm. I have no idea how far I slid. Other bikers that have fallen tell tales of how everything was in slow motion. Not for me - in an instant it was over. I remember cognitively thinking that I was going to fall, but not having nearly enough time to react to my situation.

I slid to a stop and the first thing that I can recall is thinking Im alive. I stood up almost immediately and realized that something wasn't right with my left knee. I couldn't put much weight on it. Also, something was burning on my left arm. But otherwise, I dont recall feeling any pain or discomfort, but clearly, the adrenaline was flowing wildly.

Ironically in such a remote place, I was only alone for a few seconds. A couple stopped and the lady asked me how she could help. Uncharacteristically, I was speechless. I asked her for some water and she told me my left arm was bleeding. I looked down and then realized what was burning. I had a pretty bad case of road rash. She brought a first aid kit from her car and I slapped some anti-biotic ointment on my arm. We all examined my helmet closely and my suspicions were true - my head did not hit the ground. The first aid lady picked up pieces of my bike off the road and roadside and put them in a trash bag for me. I thanked them and they moved on.

About the same time, Eric the bighorn sheep spotter pulled up. He said he heard some commotion, and saw a cloud of dust, but nothing else. He asked me if I would be OK for a few minutes so he could drive to a friends how close by and borrow his trailer to help me with my bike. As he pulled away, I started weeping a little. Fifteen minutes ago, everything was perfect and now everything was ruined. I ruined everything.

In 5 minutes, Eric returned with his friend Arvin and Arvin's trailer. In that short time, they had plotted a decent plan for my help and asked if I would like to hear it. They thought the only way for my bike to get home would be in a rented truck. Eric has a friend in a town 50 miles away that owns a U-Haul rental franchise. The closest hospital was in a smaller town in between there and here. So Arvin would take me and my mangled crap over to both places, I would get a motel room and tomorrow, Eric would meet me at the truck rental. I was in no position to debate any of that and besides, it sounded like a fine plan to me.

How amazing is it to have fallen in the laps of these two incredibly generous gentlemen? I'd like to think I would do the same for them should the need arise, but honestly, I was sincerely humbled by their willingness. It is one thing to help someone, but all together different to do it willingly and patiently. Ive made some lifelong friends in southern Colorado, albeit on disappointing circumstances.



And thats how the adventure basically ended. A sprained knee and abrasions was all that was revealed at the hospital. Arvin delivered me and my bike to Monte Vista, Colorado, and helped me get checked into the fleabag motel across the highway from the U-Haul place. True to his word, Eric showed up first thing the next morning and helped me get my bike into the truck. And I spent the next two days driving 55 mph in a motorized cattle barn, getting 8.2 miles per gallon, and cussing, yelling, and crying to myself for being a ridiculous and stupid *****.

Which brings me to the now and the future. There are far more questions than answers at this point. My knee is healing pretty well, but the old bikers are correct - the road rash is what hurts the most. I'm thankful that my riding safety gear prevented far more injury. In time, these wounds will heal. Hopefully, my mental wounds and pride will also heal. I'm trying to listen to others and myself - just take it one day at a time. It goes against my nature, but it seems at least for now, I have no other choice.

Regardless, I wont let my misfortune at the end of my trip destroy the wonderful times and memories I had up until that point.

As for the future, that is completely unknown. I will continue to get busy living the question I keep asking is ... How?

Stay Thirsty, My Friends.

Well, I posted after your second post, but in the amount of time it took me to post up, you must have sent the rest.

As far as being amazed by the West, what's funny is I'm amazed by the East. We are so used to what we are surrounded with that seeing the differences in the terrain amazes us. I've ridden a bunch of what you posted up about and some of those pictures bring back memories. Excellent job on the report. You got a lot in there!

It wasn't until I saw your map that I realized where you crashed. I've been on that road, probably 5 or 6 times, and I'm usually cooking. I love that smooth pavement and those big open sweepers.

I'm sorry you crashed, but honestly, it could have been way worse. You could have been running really fast. It could have been another vehicle, or you could have been there a long time by yourself. You weren't stupid, just unlucky. **** happens. You pulled it together, made a plan and got home. Many would have fallen apart.

Good job all the way around. Maybe next time I'll see you out here.

Great Ride Report and sorry to hear about crashing, know from experience how much they suck. Glad you're relatively OK, bikes are replaceable!

Mrs. Redfish and I just read the last installment together. We love you Joey. It will be alright.

Is your front tire flat? I wonder what sent you into that wobble. With dirt bike experience, I don't think it was your riding skills. So, mechanically, what went wrong that you couldn't stabilize the bike? Was it mechanical? Any ideas?

Wow.

Thank-you so much for sharing all of this.

I have been looking forward to this trip and its subsequent Ride Report for quite some time now. This trip would take me out of my Comfort Zone and give me a chance to be A Follower instead of The Leader. I had no clue it would have anything less than a happy ending. I will try to keep it light, I will try not to get too emotional, and I will certainly treat some parts with the Respect they deserve.

I like Control. I have managed to have Control over most things in my life but I am well aware that there are things beyond my control. My friend hppants, Joey likes to Just Go. I have trouble with that because A Plan gives me Control. But I like and respect Joey, and I thought this might be a good chance for all of us. Since I knew he was going to help me with my Most Important Job, keeping Dear Old Dad safe and happy, I was willing to do something I had never done. Pop and I were going to share a Motorcycle Trip with someone other than close family.

First off, I was worried about Dear Old Dad. Pop turned 70 years old in August. He is getting weak and frail. I knew we were going to be riding and hiking at some high elevations so I devised a little exercise program for him.

Here is the weak, old man getting in his exercise:



Here he is irritated that I have interrupted his fun:



As always I had to do the Pre-Trip Maintenance but for his birthday I got a couple things for his FJR. He has wanted heated grips since the day he got the FJR and I finally delivered. The Oxford Premium Adventure Grips are really nice. They provide a larger diameter, more texture, better control, and HEAT.



Pop seemed to really like the Gen3 fairing emblems. He mentioned several times how good that looked and that folks were always asking him what size his bike was, there is no numerical designation on the '07 FJR. So, I spent waaaay too much money for a cosmetic upgrade but Dad liked it.



I did all the things at the house that had to be done before I left on a two week trip. Fortunately, I have a little help with some of that:



Finally, the 16th arrived and we were off. Pop and I took our time, we enjoyed our morning and we watched that same crop dusting acrobatic show that Joey saw. Joey arrived at our rendezvous point 10 minutes after we did and we continued our All Back Road trek NW through Louisiana.

We stopped in Logansport, almost at the TX/LA border for lunch in what looked like a Bad Decision. The place was named The Laredo and I was not optimistic. Wow, the food was excellent. Our waitress, Miss Whitney, quickly captured my attention, if not my heart. Dark haired girls with healthy curves do that to me...

The weather guessers had forecast highs in the upper 80s but we were riding in the mid 90s. We were in the upper 90s by the time we reached the Whitesboro Inn. The wind was kicking and our fuel mileage had plummeted.

The next morning, the 17th, Joey proposed an alternate route. Instead of taking straight, flat, windy Hwy 287 to Amarillo, we would cut West on some more curvy roads and hit Palo Duro Canyon. I had a pretty good idea of the time line and figured that hitting Palo Duro and Caprock Canyons in NW Texas was more important than having lunch at The Big Texan anyway. I immediately agreed which seemed to delight Joey completely. I do not think he understood how much I trusted him.

We stopped near Henrietta TX on Hwy 82 for a brief water break:



I wanted a pic of the bikes in front of the windmills on Hwy 287:



When we turned West on Hwy 86, Pop and I were looking around and did not want to ride as fast as our friend and he immediately realized that and slowed his pace. I felt pretty guilty over that and told him so later. I know he rides faster than we do and was afraid that would be a cause of friction as the days progressed. It never was.

My temp readout was 100 as we approached Palo Duro. I hit 106 in the bottom of Palo Duro.

At the entrance of Palo Duro is part of The Official Texas State Longhorn Herd. That is 1800 pounds apiece of pure muscle and mean right there:



You can see Pop is not suffering much from the 106 degree temps in the bottom of Palo Duro:



We bypassed Amarillo, hit I-40 as a necessary evil and headed West to Tucumcari. Our stay at The Blue Swallow was excellent as always and I think my friend was impressed just a little. We had an excellent supper, an unexpectedly good supper. There was a situation with two attractive British ladies, their laundry and myself which my so-called friend Joey found all too hilarious. Yes, I did laundry duty for two foreign ladies and no, I was not a pervert about it.



We drank some adult beverages and watched the New Mexico sun sink over Route 66. We had just experienced two excellent days and I knew we had not reached The Good Stuff yet.

Day 3, the 18th

After we returned from an excellent breakfast I was in the motel room gathering my luggage when I heard one of the bikes running. That made no sense and when I stepped outside there were 2 2015 ESs instead of one. RJAMT had found us a couple days early. He is fairly new on the forum and we did not "know" him the way we know most of the old timers. We invited him to tag along and hoped for the best. He adjusted his route and fell in line. I am so glad he did. At first I was not sure, I am naturally a skeptic. After the few days RJAMT was with us, I consider him a close friend. We all came to like him a lot. Of course I was a bit jealous of who he really was... I hate to reveal his true identity but he just happened to be Big John Holmes. You can't make stuff like that up, it just happens.

At the canyon overlook on Hwy 104, pants is telling Pop, "This looks just like downtown Donaldsonville Louisiana!" Not.



Of course I was leading the group when I attracted the attention of New Mexico's finest. I was really pissed at myself for leading us into a ticket and felt responsible for the entire incident. I attempted to speak privately with the officer but he cut me off. All I can say is that he and Pop understood one another. He cautioned us about the New Mexico wildlife and asked us to slow it down. We did.

I asked pants to lead us up Hwy 434. He seemed fairly happy but that road is narrow and hairy. We stopped for a breather and Pop was distracted by the tiny trout swimming in the stream. He seemed to want me to act like a Grizzly and mouth catch enough for supper. I was not "biting" on that idea.



We continued up 434 to Angel Fire where I expected to find lunch, fuel and a water bottle to replace the one I had forgotten at home. Our waitress, a young and... voluptuous? Curvaceous? senorita named Jaime had me so distracted that I could barely order my lunch. I have a weakness for curvy senoritas... Anyway, our food was quite good.

We turned West on Hwy 64 toward Taos, with pants leading. I took the time to adjust the suspension settings on Scar, that ES is just wonderful. Joey seemed to have a good time with 64. I love that section of 64 between Angel Fire and Taos. In fact, I really like 64 for most of its length across New Mexico.

Once through Taos we pulled into the rest area at the Rio Grande Gorge. I led pants and Big John over to my favorite overlook and they seemed impressed.

Here is my friend Joey adjusting to Vacation Mode:



Around 10,000 feet around Hopewell Pass we found Aspens starting to turn. Pop and I have ridden and driven that road several times now but it was never as nice as that day. Following that awesome red '14 FJR, the growl of my own FJR under me, the confident grip of the PR4GTs with all that gorgeous New Mexico scenery around me was just... I was feeling pretty bad *** but I have to say that the Old Guy on the Gen 2 was right on my ***.

Anyway, pants was beyond happy to actually touch an Aspen Tree.



We continued West on the Roller Coaster that was Hwy 64 until the two tent campers turned North. Pop and I continued West to Bloomfield and the Best Western. We had an excellent supper right next door to the hotel, we had a lovely young waitress named Amber whose father rode a Sportster and we slept in a climate controlled room behind a locked door.

How? Re-read your report. Remind yourself that life is an amazingly precious journey. Ask yourself what can you do to add to your life. Do that. There is no wrong answer. And if the right answer is to take time to decide, at least you will know that that's you need. You are lucky enough to have woken up on the right side of the grass this morning. Don't dwell on the "10%". It seems to me that dropping the bike was the least meaningful event on that trip.

Thank you for sharing with us. For taking us with you. I wish you the best in finding your answers. I hope to share the road with you some day. Safe travels, my friend.