Well, I’m a crazy man and I’m playin’ my crazy game.
First time I rode on a street bike, 24 years ago I listened to this on a cassette tape on a knockoff walkman. I remember leaving LA, wondering if I would like this thing and by barstow I knew I was kin with this riding thing. I still feel that way. Lots of things have came and went in my life, but the feeling of loving that riding has stuck.
Had a good ride this weekend. My brother Pat met me at my house in Heber and not long after we headed out.
His engine light started flashing around duchesne. My brothers wits are about him, and he knew not to shut the bike off till we hit a dealership in Vernal. We did, and by then the bike wouldnt start. voltage regulator… not one in grand junction, not one in Vernal, but 150 miles in wyoming there was one. A rental car, some good conversation and 90 in 55 later, we pulled in with 5 minutes to spare, got the part and headed back to vernal to ride in the morning.
We woke up in a haze, got the part installed and headed to Meeker colorado to be there my noon. paid respects to our grandparents, cruised around the town and got a feeling. A good feeling. our old man grew up here. Was good to see it. Honestly, I want to know more. I want stories. Not many people around left who can tell em to me. maybe thats my new route 66, since im closer to meeker than flagstaff. Meeker still has it’s soul, and not far from the soul My father probably knew. At least closer than most towns you can visit these days 50 years after what you’re searching for.
We hit grand junction early. by 5 PM, washed the bikes, grabbed a bite and hung out in the motel. It warmed up by 9 enough and we hit the road.
Pat had things on his mind. I really didn’t. He was feeling 90 and I was feeling 65. he had to keep up with his racing thoughts, and i wanted to mozy. I got it. Certainly, I understand that. We hit green river utah and he didn’t even really need to say it; we were both feeling it. He raced ahead to get home, and I mozied ahead. Stopping several green River several times to get a feel and meet the local crazy. It went unsaid. We both knew it was right.
I rode solo from there to Heber. Was a good ride. Actually, was perfect. I got to ride with my brother, and got a little solo time which I always love. Snows gonna fall soon. Leaves are changing, and I might not get many more chances till spring. All good.
All rides are good. Anything over 200 miles where you sleep somewhere new is memorable. Some are more memorable than most.
Early Friday afternoon I rode north to meet my brother Pat at Beryl Junction, about 50 miles away. He rode down from Salt Lake and it’d been a while since we’d ridden together. A few months. I was pretty glad to see him. I’ve said this before, but it’s pretty effortless to ride with him. We’ve settled into a good mixture of fun, beers, an occasional cigar, and busting each others chops. It’s always good company, and Pat is a rider to the core.
We rode the 50 miles to Caliente and stopped at the Knotty Pine for a brew and some burgers. We thought about staying in Caliente for the night, but decided to head on into Rachel Nevada, and I’m glad we did. We rode, Wyatt Earp Style. Great Fun.
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Rachel was great. we had supper there and a few more beers and The Little A’Le’Inn was a nice place to stay. Good Service, cheap prices and interesting people. We we smoked cuban cigars and drank 18 year old scotch as the sun set on the nevada desert. We crashed pretty early, watching Soylent Green on the VCR. Soylent Green, as you know, is people.
I gotta tell you, if you can’t have a good time riding to the UFO capital of the world on the edge of Area 51, smoking cuban cigars, 18 year old scotch and staying in a single wide trailer converted into a motel room watching Soylent Green…. well, your wick is wet. Have If you haven’t seen it, here’s a preview:
Chuck heston is the Shit. I swear the man does his own stunts, in a leisure suit no less! Charleton Heston is my president. I’m gonna be a dick and give you the spoiler right now. If you don’t want to know it, then don’t click this one:
Side note: There, I found the cure for a sore throat at 11 pm at night. A “Nuclear Bomb” is 3/4 shotglass of Tobasco sauce, and 1/4 shotglass of tequila. Instant cure.
The next morning we woke up, skipped breakfast and headed 50 miles to warm springs. Warm Springs Nevada i’ve been to a few times, but this time we checked out the hot springs and some of the old structures. Lots of ghosts there with some unknown stories. I’d still love to hear of someone who knows when warm springs was alive and kicking.
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From warm Springs we went into Tonopah and finally had cell service again, called our wives and had lunch, then moved onto Beatty.
Then we found Goldfield. I wished we’d spent more time there. At one time it was a town of 30,000 people as a Nevada Boom town from the turn of the 20th century. 400 people live there now, mostly because it’s still the county seat. Some neat old artifacts and really old buildings in great shape. I want to go back. Supposedly, the hotel is haunted, and we just drove right by it, not knowing.
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From there on, it was just hot. Well over 100, we opened up and made time. We still had to get to what was our loose destination, the Ghost town of Ryolite Nevada. We pulled in around 1:30 and gassed up, and found us a good bar to settle into to decide what was next. We decided to stay for the night. Our original plan was to ride to Mt Charleston, 100 miles away and tent for the night. We both realized that the 4th of july weekend would make it rough to get a camp spot. Besides, this was a pretty good bar! and there was 3 more next to it, and a hotel across the street where we could park the bikes and walk. We got a room, and then headed into Rhyolite.
Rhyolite Nevada is a ghost town I’d seen on the history channel a week earlier, and realizing it was not all that far away, wanted to go see it. We headed the 4 miles up the road to go check it out.
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Rhyolite started in 1904 when gold was discovered. by 1908 Rhyolite had 10,000 people, forty-five saloons, 3 of the most modern banks in the state, an opera house, a Stock Exchange, a slaughterhouse, two railroad depots, three public swimming pools and dozens of businesses. Rhyolite supported over 85 mining companies. It had power, piped water, telephones, sidewalks and entertainment.
By 1909, it had less than 1,000 people. By 1915, 20 people. by 1924 it’s last remaining resident died.
All that’s left is some of the most bitchen ruins I’ve ever seen. Including a house made up entirely of bottles, a full train depot, and crumbling buildings.
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We stopped and had a beer in the heat, and tripped out over the history and archetecture of a city who’s time had long since passed. It’s amazing to see that in only 100 years a town can disappear. Monolith’s to the history of man.
We took a dirt road deeper into Rhyolite to check out the old jail. When we pulled up, a woman approached us and explained she was making a movie and asked if she could use one of our bikes. I said no. I did not know this woman, and quite honestly, noone sits on my bike but me unless I know them pretty well. Pat was much more open and talked me into letting them use it in their movie.
So a girl got out of her car, walked up to my bike, and started taking off her clothes. It got pretty interesting, and I found that I was hasty in saying no so quickly. I’m a happily married man who is loyal to my wife. This was also not what I thought I’d find at Rhyolite. They were 5 kids from UCLA making a movie about a muslim woman. I started up the bike so they could get the full effect. I will say this, they have good taste in motorcycles. Fast women I think, can sense speed.
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We shook hands, got a picture or two and headed back to the bar to have dinner.
Beatty nevada was a pretty cool town for a town of 1100 people. We found a good spot that served a mean sandwitch, the right kind of beer, and listened to a classic rock band play songs directly from my Ipod and had a great time. Even the fireworks in beatty we’re pretty good. You could sense the town pride.
We staggered back to the motel and crashed. Pat headed out around 7 to make the long ride back to Salt Lake. Thats another nice thing about riding with my brother – we don’t get get butt hurt — either one of us — if we split off to do our thing. We’re both pretty self-contained. I realized he had to go, and he realized I was probably a bit hung over and was 3 hours from home. Around 9 I headed out of town, and made it home.
Great ride. Quite honestly, the whole weekend was great. Maybe my favorite ride I’ve done. Always wanted to stay in Rachel, and being with my bro just made it fun.
Pat and I trailered the bikes to Phoenix. It was just too irresistible. Snow in St George, 80 Degrees in Phoenix. He got to St George Thursday night, and we got the trailer ready to pull all three bikes down to Phoenix the next morning.
Going to Phoenix tomorrow to do some riding for the first time in months. I’m stoked. Hopefully pat gets here tonight and we can head out at 0′ Dark Thirty and get on the road.
Changed the oil in my bike last night and I’m ready to roll
This is my garage tonight. Looks pretty damn good to me
I had a great ride last weekend with pat. sometimes it takes me a while to decompress it all when I ride with other people because I had alot going through my mind as we took the trip, and it was all good.
Getting Gas in Overton Nevada
I got my act together by around noon on thursday, and by 1 I met up with my brother and we headed south to overton, which I knew would be our first gas stop on our way to kingman for the night. Our rooms were booked, so our destination was set.
what kept going through my head as I rode was Qui Gon Jinn, talking to a young Obi Wan Kenobi. “keep your mind on the here and now, don’t center on your anxieties”. Its funny how you sometimes recall things. That quote there, is another reason I like to ride. The road forces the here and now most times, and the here and now forms your future. Its mortar in the brick wall of why Riding is such a positive for me.
We hit Lees along the way, which has become a required stop, we talked a bit
Great Stop at Rosies Den
and I knew this ride was going to be a great one right then and there. Pat is going through a transition right now, and this ride was for him… showing him my most frequent and common path along route 66 to california, and quite honestly my favorite. I was only hoping he liked it as much as I do, because some people I show this route to don’t get it: Its varied, old and full of americana. If you’re not into those sorts of things, its just sagebrush and old buildings.
we rounded the 60 miles behind lake mead, hit hoover dam and headed into kingman for the night. It was a great ride. 40 miles before kingman we stopped and had a couple of beers and a place Ive visited a bunch but never stopped into. Going there with pat first made it perfect. Another point of view on a route I’d taken before. That night, we had a round of scotch and rested up for what I was hoping was going to be a great weekend.
DAY TWO
Oatman Road
The next morning we stopped by the harley shop, and milked a bit of time to make the ride into oatman timely. Oatman is one of my favorite stops. Not only for the winding road, but for the town itself. its a throwback, and ive seen it revive in the 20 years ive been hitting up route 66. Its doing good. we stopped into the oatman hotel for a couple beers and a long lunch, then headed out through golden shores, topock, past the colorado river and down through amboy.
Roys in amboy is doing well. They sound like gas sales are going good, and within a week or so theyll have the reverse osmosis filtering they need to get the restaurant open. From there, theyll start working on the hotel. If that happens, Amboy will replace kingman as my friday night stop for weekend rides. I try and support them as much as I can. I love the fact that the town of amboy is starting to revive. It says something about people to me.
from Amboy, we headed south and Pat pointed
Oatman Epitaph
out something I missed last time. Just a few miles south of amboy, they process chloride from the natural drainage point of the valley. We passed through and headed up to twentynine palms, through the town to get gas, and up over Joshua tree national park. The sun was in our eyes, so we missed alot, and the ride was winding down and we had 100 miles to go yet.
Just like last time, we took missed our turn and was 60 miles out of our way. Just like last time, I didnt really care. the weather was good, and aside from the initial traffic, I was enjoying the ride. we rode down through the windmill farms and into palm springs for the night, got wasted at applebees and crashed for the night. As always, I 100% enjoyed the company with my older brother.
DAY THREE
Outside the Patton Museum
We debated a few different routes, but decided to double back after going to our loose reason for taking this ride: The patton museum in Chiriaco Summit. I have been, and will always be a fan of George S. Patton. Ive read a couple of biographies on him, as well as several other books about him including his war diaries. He is a testament to recognizing what he was best at in life, as well as focus, which I believe makes anyone a “natural” born leader if he has the passion. He did. I really should invest in helping preserve this museum. The land around here is what trained men to help us win world war 2.
We stayed for about an hear, then h
Oatman Hotel at Dark
eaded back up through Joshua Tree and back up through Amboy, where we stopped and took some pictures of the chloride leeching trenches. Then made time to get back to Kingman. Oatman dies at dark. We had dinner and headed back to kingman, hit up a local bar for a couple and then crashed for the night.
DAY FOUR
Sunday morning we were both in the mindset of getting breakfast at the hotel and hitting the road to home. We had a 4 hour ride, plus pat had another 4 hours ride to get home. At overton, we parted ways and pat made miles to get home. I rode home slow, mozying back to be home by 1 to watch the Steeler game with Megan, something we’ve done for the last 4 years together.
The last thing pat said to me was “thanks, you saved my life this weekend”. I knew what he meant. He’s saved mine before. He’s got some tough decisions to make, and letting those decisions come to him and having a good ride, versus sitting around and feeling the weight of his situation is what he meant. I love my brother.
Something flipped for me this weekend. Ive always rode by myself and preferred it that way, but I have a feeling if I did it that way now I know I’d wish he was there. We work well together.
I havent been riding on the weekends this month like I normally do, just because of work and other commitments, as well as its been pretty cold lately. This weekend it was warm, and earlier in the week Pat talked about trailering his bikes down to do some riding and leaving them here to do some exploring of southern utah. Ive done that here ad naseum, as most of my friends think riding to zion is a day of hardcore riding, but Pat is different. He’s like me, where he likes to explore and see new things make him curious and ride new roads to explore, so friday morning when it was confirmed that he was coming, It made my day. He showed up with his kids and friday night we hooked up and made plans to show his wife zion the next day. Robyn was ready to go too, and with my kids wanting to earn babysitting money, as well as a desire to have my kids get to know their cousins, the plan seemed to fit perfectly. In the morning, we ride.
Mental note to self: Always remember the smile on Pats face as he pulled up to the convenience store that friday on the fat boy, and how much fun he said he had on that bike. Also remember he hole shotted me three times on highway 91, even if for a few feet. Our tires both busted loose.
Robyn Me and Staci at Zion National Park
Pat slept in and we started later than I expected, but the timing was still perfect and noone cared we were getting on the road at 11. I certainly didnt. I was just excited to to go with the wives and have a good time. I found a pair of leathers in my closet that quite frankly, I have no freaking clue where they came from, but I cut them to fit robyn and once we hit the harley shop got her the boots she wanted, so the day couldnt have started any better. We left the dealership by noon and headed out towards Zion National Park. The weather and the company was just right. Good rides are effortless if the the people you are with are right.
We headed up through zion, through the tunnel. Robyn took some video on the camera: Heres on the switchbacks, stopping to take it all in:
we then rode through kanab, stopped at the buckskin tavern in Kanab for a couple, then to Pipe springs and on home. Was a good riding day. I gotta say, Staci is a GREAT rider. She handles her bike better than any of my friends, keeps great formation and was a straight up pleasure to ride with. Robyn and I both had a great time. I want to do this a bunch more. It was great to take robyn, and adding staci to the mix was perfect. Their bikes are in my moms garage, so hopefully we can sneak a few more rides in over the next few fall and winter months.
Im feeling the pull to explore today pretty bad. If I didnt have a meeting on monday I’d be on the road already. I think next weekend I need to point my bike in a direction, pack my sleeping bag and sleep out under some familiar stars with a new skyline. Im running out of time. I need to feel that feeling of a new experience. I can feel it right now.
Well, we made it. Pat came down thursday night, and friday morning mister sunshine finally got his legs underneath him and we hit the road and on over the utah hill. We stopped at lees to buy some scotch, sample the same, and then on to vegas, avoiding the freeway as much as we could. What the hell right? we had nothing but time.
We hit vegas, and gassed up right before we checked into the hotel to get settled and head out. The only problem is I filled up on 85 percent ethanol without noticing what I’d done. by the time it hit my injectors, I knew It wasnt going to fly on that fuel, so we had to find a place to drain it. In about a half hour, we fixe the problem, I fueled up again on shit that wasnt made out of corn and we went and got registered. Our fun wasnt over. After registering, Pat and I managed to illegally pass a vegas cop who pulled us over. Luckily he was a biker himself and very cool and even had a sense of humor:
Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do...
After that, we went over to Las Vegas Harley to see the local entertainment, then back to cashman center to check out all the vendors, which there was quite a few.
Friday night was pretty uneventful. We headed back to the hotel, grabbed some dinner and some drinks and crashed fairly early to be up by 7 to hit the poker run. The pot was $100,000, and we had as good a shot as anyone.
Saturday October 4th
Load em up, heading out...
woke up, grabbed some coffee and headed out. It had rained that night a bit, and the clouds were looking like it might again. It didnt. It was overall a helluva good day. We went and registered, made our stops at Las vegas harley for our first card and a doughnut, then out to Mt Charleston, a place I’d never visted. It was awesome. Nice and high, and you could really smell the desert from the rain that night. It smelled great, and I really enjoyed the ride up the mountain. I had a possible straight flush at that point. I was feeling lucky to be honest, and had a feeling I was gonna win the 100k. If I didnt, I didnt care. The deal Pat and I had that whoever won, we would split the money and pay off the bikes. Maybe I felt
100k Poker Run
lucky because my bike might be paid off sooner than I thought, but it wasnt because of my hand, because the next stop in south vegas screwed my straight flush up, but not a straight. The next stop screwed up my straight at the harley cafe, where we ate lunch and then pressed back to the final spot, then to cashman center where we started.
We walked around, had a few beers and I bought a novelty helmet that everyone wears in Nevada, some stickers, and we pulled out and headed back to the hotel. It was a pretty mellow weekend, but the company was great hanging out with my bro. We hit up a hooters for dinner, i lost 50 bucks at the roulette table, then went back and crashed. The next morning we were up early and opened em up, hit a steady 90 and I was home by noon. Pat was home by 4.
All in all, a great weekend.
So pat showed up last night, well prepared with a bottle of Glen Livet. I had it in my head we were going riding that night and make it to bryce, so we could head up highway 12 the next morning and be back by night. Then it started raining, so we had dinner, polished off a fine bottle of scotch and caught up. It was great. Pat is the first of my brothers to ever come down and stay in my home. Skip did once, but camped in my driveway in his rig and that was cool too. Even so, I love my brother and enjoy his company. Friends are friends, but blood is blood. I enjoy it when we get together.
So this morning we headed out with intentions of somewhere north. On the way to zion, we pulled off in rockville and I showed him grafton, a local ghost town where butch cassidy and the sundance kid was filmed. Remember the raindrops keep falling on my head scene? That was filmed in grafton. If you don’t, here it is:
Theres an old bridge in grafton thats pretty awesome. Got some good pictures below. Im too lazy right now to add them up here so you can check em out right now.
From there, we headed up to zion and went through the tunnel. Thats always a nice ride, and hearing my bike thunder in the tunnel always is just a perfect sound. Pat had never been through there, and it was a nice ride. Headed up to mt Carmel and got our bearings, and I took a picture that I just have to post:
We wouldn't have it any other way....
From Mt Carmel, we bolted north to bryce had lunch and pat split to head north and I headed back to mt Carmel and continued through to kanab, on my way home.
Stopped at the buckskin tavern for a minute. never been in there, had a beer and headed south again through Fredonia and on to pipe springs. Ive probably passed pipe springs a hundred times, and never really had more than a minor curiosity of what it was or all about, and since riding the fat boy for all those miles made my ass feel like it was sitting on a cinder block (or a bag of marbles as pat would put it), i decided to stop in and see it all. It was pretty cool. theres a fort there, and a whole history that was pretty significant to the area. I eat that stuff up.
Then I headed home. I had a good ride. The fat boy is not in the same league as my street glide as far as riding long runs goes, but at least I felt I got to know her a bit and she is what she is. She ran great, and she almost asked me to put some saddlebags on her, and my ass clearly asked me to get another seat, and even some freeway pegs. I may do both.
I went the greater part of my life without really knowing my brothers. I’d imagine that probably sounds wierd, but 10 years can be a big difference. I was 16 when I moved to St George, and our lives really never hooked up. We’ve all got our own lives, it just is what it is. So when Pat called me to hook up in Phoenix on an unusually warm indian kind of summer ride in phoenix, I was pretty pumped.
Head To Kingman – Thursday
Left around 3 to make it to kingman. Last time I rode to kingman in March, I froze my nuggets off. This time, the weather was just nice, and the ride went pretty fast. Made kingman by around 10. Grabbed some food, and hit the sack.
Head to Phoenix – Friday
woke up, fueled up and headed to phoenix. It was about 50 degrees when I left, but knew itd warm up heading south so I just made miles. The ride was awesome. Called Pat in Wickenburg, and by then it had warmed up to 70. Found the Hotel, and found pat working on his new bike about 10 blocks away. Pat bought a beautiful bike: an 08 limited edition 105th anniversary Heritage Softail Classic, and got his wife Staci a good looking matching sportie.
We didnt screw around too long, loaded up and headed out to Scottsdale. Hit up a couple harley shops, Went to a place out in cave creek that I’ve never been too, had a couple of greasy burgers and a few beers and shot the shit. Ended up at the pub next door to the hotel for a few single malts. So basically, 2 short harley diehards drinking scotch and riding alot. Easy peasy japanesy.
Side note: Registering your motorcycle in Arizona, especially Phoenix has HUGE advantages. FREEWAY ACTION SHOTS! How cool is that? The Great city of Phoenix took this nice shot of Pat, but for some reason I wasnt able to make the shot:
They emailed it to him for a small charge without even asking. Phoenix is good like that. Pffft.
Titan Missile Museum
Woke up, and hit another dealership on the way out of town heading to Tucson. Then it was open Road. We switched bikes and had my first shot and checking out a six speed transmission on Pat’s new ride. It was smooth. The whole bike was smooth. He had it set up just like he liked it, including a nav which came in pretty handy.
Our first stop was pretty damn cool. The Titan missle Museum in Tucson. One of 3 left in the world (IIRC). We took the tour and I gotta say, was one of the cooler museums I’ve ever been in. The redundancy of the security, and a glimpse into cold war operations was really insightful. The 2 tour guides had actually worked at similar silos, and the tour was top Notch I thought. For 500 bucks you can spend the night there. I *WILL* do that before I die. I just need 500 bucks and robyn to go with me. The latter is gonna be tough…. (she’ll do it).
We then rode up to old Tucson. I gotta admit, I wasnt that prepared for it and missed more than I wished I had. We had an hour or so, since it was close to closing time, and I blew through it too fast. Pat is more of an old western afficinado and knew way more of the old movies that had been filmed there, and had been there a few times, but still, it was pretty cool. Knowing a few of the old movies that had been filmed there would have really been an experience. I need to watch a few more, and go back.
We headed back to our hotel in tucson, had a quick dinner and hit the sack.
Pima Air Museum – Friday
Epic Day. I’ll admit it, I love museums. I almost dont even care what kind — some are obviously better than others, but this was one of the best also. Pima Air Museum. Spent about 3 1/2 hours there and definately another place to go back. I think they had every major period plane you could think of, including one JFK/LBJ’s Air force one, which was the last prop driven air force ones.
Today was a bit cooler, and some wind too. We bombed out after bumming some jumper cables from the staff and headed out to get back to Phoenix. Just outside of PHX you could see a storm brewing, so we opened up and stayed ahead of it and got back to phoenix with enough time to head to Harolds in cave creek to have some food, fix some server problems back home. The city of Phoenix also got another couple of good snapshots of pat and I riding in Loose formation:
Pat paid alot for these pictures, figured they should be at least shared with someone. Utah is like Argentina apparantly, if you can get back across the border theres no Extradition of convicts. Worked for butch and sundance anyway, untill they got shot. They never sent me a fine.
2 days of hard riding, we got to the hotel and crashed.
Monday, March 3rd 2008
Pat had to get back to Salt Lake, and I had to get home so we parted ways after a good weekend of riding. I found out that Pat and I ride about the same way: we like historical stuff, we both get bored easy, and we both don’t mind alot of saddle time. The more actually, the better. It made for a great weekend, and screw the fact that he’s my brother, He’s just fun to ride with. We’re going to do more of this. Hopefully the dunn brothers section of this blog gets big.
I stopped several times to make sure shit was going well at the office, since I really should have been back to work. After that, I just opened it up and tried to make time
Theres a couple of standards i’ve always kind of measured rides by: 1) If the temp is under 90 degrees, the wind gets cooler. 2) If its over 90 degrees, the wind gets hotter, and 3) 55 degrees is the cutoff for long rides. This ride made me rethink that. 55 degrees is good for an hour, but after a few hours it starts to get colder and colder. I had every intention of getting back to St. George, but as I got closer and closer to Kingman, and weatherband radio was telling me that it was going to be 40 degrees with 30 mile an hour wind gusts, i decided to stay another night and head out in the morning. I hate riding at night anyway. I got a room at the holiday inn.
Tuesday, March 4th 2008
when the temp hit 50 outside around 9, I got the hell out of dodge. Don’t like being away from the office that long. The ride home was decent. Took the road behind vegas through Lake mead, overton and was home by around 3pm.
Funny thing, and its indicative of my family– We rode out in formation, and on the way home it was every man for himself. They say eagles don’t flock. We’re good for about a day, then we all like to steer our own ships. I’m fine with that. I actually prefer it that way, its the only way I know.
I headed out wednesday night and made Delta. Thats a great ride, and a good road.
Friday Pat and I hooked up with Skip and his sons, and headed out toward Heber to meet up with Mike. Then we hit the road, for the sleepy cat guest ranch.
The weather was near perfect, and its always fun to ride roads that I havent been on much.
I dont remember my Grandpas Ranch, and I havent been to Meeker Since I was a kid. It was great to see my brothers talk about their memories of the place, how they remembered my grandparents, and how they lived. My Grandfather was a good man. Honest and determined. He set the standard and a creedo that I think we all aspire to still. He was a mans man, and worked hard.
We rode out to their grave, and then headed into the sleepy cat for the night, the timing was good, we pulled in just while there was still light in the sky. We ate dinner, shot the shit, had a few beers.
The next morning you could tell it was over. We all had our own schedule at that point, and we rallied just enough to get on the bikes and point em home.
It rained a little, but nothing too bad. At duchesne I said goodbye to everyone and headed south. Just about 5 minutes later it started coming down. I coulda kept going, it wasnt anything but a bit of a pain in the ass, but I mostly just wanted to have a little time to digest the trip with my brothers and string the trip out for another day. Plus, i figured I knew the storm would break and tomorrow would be good riding. I wasnt going to make it all the way home anyway. So I crashed in Castle Dell.
The next day I rode through some pretty cool roads, up around 9500 elevation, and down through Loa, boulder, and Escalante. highway 12 is the best road in utah I think, at least that ive been on. I hit that, and enjoyed the ride home.
I don’t know how many more times a ride like this will happen. Quite honestly, the best thing about it was it started off Pat and I riding alot more, and Im pretty sure Ill fill this blog with a bunch of our rides. We’ve already had a few more since then. He’s got the bug as bad as I do.
