December, 2017: This is a ride tale about a 3-week motorcycle trip I took from Michigan to

California in spring/summer 2000. It was originally hosted as a series of pages on my personal

website for a couple of years after that trip, and now I’ve reassembled it all into a single Word

document. It lacks the finished quality of my more recent ride tales, but it still tells a good story.

Enjoy…

- Mitch

The Open Road

After six months of planning and prep work, I finally took my long-awaited transcontinental

motorcycle trip with my girlfriend, Karen. In 25 days (May 18 - June 11), we covered just over

7000 miles, travelling from Ann Arbor, Michigan (from Madison, WI for Karen) to San Francisco,

California, making many stops and detours along the way.

Although we didn't stay too long in any one spot, the flip side is that we saw a lot of different

things and places. We had every kind of weather, from 1-inch hail and 40 MPH cross winds, all the

way up to 110 degrees in the shade in Las Vegas (we kept safely cool by soaking our jeans with

water every 40 miles or so), and even snow in Rocky Mountain National Park. We traversed

everything from eight-lane interstates near San Francisco to a tiny mountain road on the Nevada-

California border that actually narrowed to a single lane briefly to squeeze between some massive

rocks.

This trip has spoiled me for my local roads. Around Ann Arbor, with a few notable exceptions

there's no reason for the roads to be anything other than straight and flat, with maybe a gentle

sweeping turn here or there. About half our trip was spent off of the interstates, traversing two-lane

roads, both major and minor. Interstates were good for covering ground in a hurry, but the back

roads in the mountains were a lot of fun: tight switchbacks, crazy elevation changes, dips rises,

etc. A couple of times I thought I was in a BMW commercial...

Most of the time we were camping. Believe it or not, we were able to fit two sleeping bags, a two-

person tent, two Thermarest groundpads, two foam-covered inflatable pillows, and a campstove - in

addition to all our personal gear - into the cases (and a very large tank bag) without having to strap

anything on anywhere else.

We shot off about 12 rolls of film, catching some great snapshots. And that is pretty much the

whole point of this series of pages: a panel of judges has narrowed the field down to 26

representative photos, and I scanned 'em in and put this little pile of HTML together so you could

have a looksee.

Boulder, Colorado

The first part of our trip - crossing Iowa, Nebraska, and eastern Colorado - was relatively

uneventful, as you might expect. Passed a lot of cornfields, cattle stations, and vacant prairie. At

the end of the second day (after a wearying 570-mile trip; I will never trust Mapquest for distances

again...), we arrived at my sister's house near Boulder, Colorado. My nieces were delighted to see

us; Savannah's first comment was, "that's the biggest motorcycle I've ever seen!" OK, it's bigger

than most, but I guess she hasn't seen a Goldwing yet.

Karen and I spent two nights at my sister's house before moving on. On the second evening, after

sluicing off the first 1000 miles of bugs, I gave my nieces their first motorcycle rides.

Hayley, nearly eleven, fit Karen's riding gear pretty good, even the gloves and helmet. This pic

was taken just before her ride.

Here's Savannah, almost six, ready for her ride. As you might expect, the jacket and gloves were a

bit, ah, loose-fitting on her, although it looks like she actually managed to get her feet on the

pegs! The helmet was a different story: the first time she put it on I guess she got her ears sorta

turned inside out. Sorry about that one, kiddo! Anyway, we got her all situated, and I think she

enjoyed the ride as much as Hayley did.

It wasn't until we left Boulder the next day that the roads started getting truly interesting. After

seeing a number of these crazy S-turn signs, I had to stop and take a picture of one. The speed limit

was something like 45, but these signs kept warning you about turns that were rated as slow as 10

MPH. Lotsa fun.

Arches National Park - Moab, Utah

From Boulder, we headed directly west into the mountains (lesson for the day: Baseline Road is

NOT the same as Route 119); after covering a good twenty miles on dirt roads, we finally found

our bearings and got to Central City, an old mining town that has found new prosperity as a tourist

magnet, complete with legalized gambling and such. Passed through, and after a short climb made

our way to Oh My God Road. Seriously. This is a graded gravel road descending through

numerous switchbacks and tight turns, providing impressive views all the way down to Idaho

Springs on the edge of I-70. From there we made tracks west to Moab, Utah, just a hair south of

Arches National Park. The ride from I-70 down to Moab is incredibly scenic, passing through

about 45 miles of narrow red rock canyons.

As warm as it was, we left the rain fly off of the tent when we set up camp, and were surprised by

something of a downpour in the middle of the night. So much for "arid."

The next day we packed up and took a cruise through Arches, stopping at the far end of the road for

a short hike. This pic was taken just before we stopped for the hike; the trail passed through a 10-

foot wide gap between those tall skinny fin-shaped rocks in the background.

The hike took us all the way to Landscape Arch, shown in the background here. This is one of the

longest natural stone spans in the world. It's difficult to judge the scale from this picture, but that

arch is about 300 feet long. The trail actually continues on and explores the area directly beneath

the arch. If you saw up close just how spindly that thing is, you wouldn't want to spend much time

in that area.

Capitol Reef National Park - Utah

After exploring Arches, we hit the road, bound (eventually) for Bryce Canyon, passing through

Capitol Reef along the way. In planning our trip we had had difficulty choosing a route for this

day. That morning however, we met a fellow biker at our campground who suggested what turned

out to be a magnificent route. If you ever have occasion to travel from Arches to Bryce (or

anywhere close), let me recommend a route for you:

From Moab, 191 north to I-70.

I-70 west to route 24 (exit #147).

route 24 south to Hanksville, then west to Torrey.

From Torrey, route 12 south all the way to Bryce.

You will see some unbelievable scenery, especially as you pass through Grand Staircase-Escalante

National Monument. There are canyons and cliffs of every color, and it goes on and on and

on. You start out in the high parts, with the road riding along a narrow ridge (the ridge is no wider

than the road at one point), and gradually the road descends to the lower areas, finally climbing

back out at the very end. It's open-range country most of the way - ya gotta keep an eye out for

inattentive cows.

This was taken in Hanksville. We had stopped for groceries, and to wait out some threatening

weather that we saw further up ahead (we're rainproof, but not lightning-proof). Karen called her

folks while we were there (that's her by the payphone on the right), and I pulled the bike up close to

the building to shelter it from the sand-laden winds.

The weather finally cleared, and we even saw some sun. Just before we entered Capitol Reef, we

stopped at a road-side pullout, where this stream was carving a small canyon next to the

road. Took a bit of rockhopping, but I managed to make my way down to the stream.

Within Capitol Reef, there is a carefully managed area with huge trees and lush green grass. This is

one particular giant that caught our eye.

Outside of that green area (which sits on the main road through the park), there is a paved road that

runs straight south for about ten miles through the park. There's a parking lot there, but then there's

a dirt/rock road that continues for another five miles or so through a narrow canyon, taking you to a

very remote area. The road was more suited for dual-sport bikes, requiring you to dodge ruts and

rock ridges and such. I think we probably averaged less than 10 MPH on that, but it was

entertaining.

Bryce Canyon National Park - Utah

After an exciting but long day of riding, we finally arrived at a campground just outside of Bryce

Canyon. Called Ruby's Inn, it's a whole big tourist hotel/restaurant/campground/gas station

complex, but the campground and its facilities are pretty nice. Given the popularity of Bryce - and

the fact that the in-park campground doesn't take reservations - Ruby's was the way to go.

After a dinner of Dinty Moore Beef Stew (the second of many...) and a good night's sleep, we woke

up and started packing. Something about this whole scene amused me. Part of it was all this stuff

laying around; did we really get all that crap on the bike? Part of it, too, was the rainfly draped on

the motorcycle. This wasn't a bike anymore; it was a shelf/drying

rack/tabletop/closet/windbreak/coathook. Frankly, it worked well in all of those capacities.

Once we got everything stuffed back where it belonged, we rode in to check out Bryce. There are

many pullouts and viewpoints on the road through the park, and we took a look at most of them.

Sorry - not a great scan, but you get the general idea. This was typical of Bryce: an overlook onto a

canyon filled with "hoodoos," pillars of rock that went on and on. In addition to the reds and

browns of the rock, there were quite a few pine trees scattered throughout the canyon, providing a

rich, dark green contrast - something different from the usual grayish-green of the sage that we saw

in most other places.

Zion National Park - Utah

One of the neat things about crossing the country on a motorcycle is that people (everyone - not just

bikers) go out of their way to strike up a conversation with you. Part of it is the motorcycle itself,

looking with all its cases and its tankbag like a long-haul machine. But when they see the

Michigan license plate, I think you gain status as a hard-core traveler; people then become very

curious about what you've seen, where you've been, and where you're headed.

Somewhere between Bryce and Grand Canyons, we stopped at a rest area and ended up talking for

quite a while with a retired couple. One other person (can't remember where) had recommended

that we visit Zion National Park, a 60-mile detour. I wasn't all that jazzed about it, but then this

retired gentleman gave a very emphatic recommendation. With plenty of time to spare, we decided

it would be dumb to skip Zion after having travelled so far.

We were not disappointed. The short summary is that Bryce Canyon is viewed from above, on the

canyon rim, and Zion is viewed from below, on the canyon floor. A slow, scenic drive through the

park and back was well worth the detour. This retired couple also recommended a specific hike

within the park, which we took. Again, well worth the effort. The trail worked its way up the side

of the canyon, over some precipitous bridges and boardwalks, under a wide rock overhang, and

after a half-mile or so reached a magnificent vista. If you visit Zion, you should take this hike. The

road through the park passes through a very long tunnel; this trail begins from the parking lot on the

east end of that tunnel.

This is a shot of one of those scary boardwalks on the hike. A long drop underneath, and the

spindly nature of the whole rig was not too reassuring.

And here is the view from the top, the end of the trail. Where the road beyond progresses through

some switchbacks up the hillside, after the final switchback it heads into a tunnel that's about a mile

long; our bike was parked at the opposite end of the tunnel.

Grand Canyon National Park - Arizona

In spite of some heinous forest fires - some of them still burning when we arrived - Grand Canyon's

North Rim was still open to visitors. As we rode through national forest lands on the way to the

park (and from the park entrance to the campground), we passed through some burned areas. In

some places the fire appeared to have been relatively mild, burning most of the underbrush and

only charring some of the trees. In other places though, it was as if a nuclear device had been

detonated: everything was black and gray ash, and only the thickest of tree trunks remained

standing at all, and even then no branches remained. In these areas the roadway itself had been

blackened, and smoke frequently drifted across our path. Occasionally we could see small fires

still burning a few dozen yards from the road; apparently these were of no concern to firefighters,

since there was nothing left around for them to ignite.

After arriving at our campground we headed for the showers, only to discover that fire fighting

crews were already there, forming a long line ahead of us. I gotta say, as sweaty as we were from

the day's ride, these guys were a mess. Sweaty, dirty, ash-covered, and pretty much exhausted,

these guys still managed to offer pleasant conversation, and they were kind enough to let me go

ahead of them.

Karen didn't have nearly as large a crowd to deal with (I guess firefighting is kind of a guy thing),

but she spent considerable time trying to find quarters for her shower. The general store nearby had

been depleted of change earlier in the day by shower-hungry firefighters, and it was a while before

she found someone with some quarters to spare. All in all, we did pretty well under the

circumstances.

After exploring the North Rim for some time the following morning, we headed off on the 200-

mile trip to get to the South Rim. Once again, Murphy was slacking: we arrived with plenty of

time to set up camp, and then board a shuttle bus that took us to a prime location for viewing a

Grand Canyon sunset. Immediately after the sun went down, we got on back on the bus, and made

it back to the more settled area of the rim before the rest of the sunset crowds returned. We

managed to get into one of the restaurants there with no waiting, and had a great dinner (no beef

stew this time...).

All three of these pics were taken from the South Rim. Not much to say about them; the Grand

Canyon is pretty much self-explanatory. One of the things that does bear mentioning, though, is

the phenomenon of canyons within canyons. This is particularly evident in the bottom photo,

showing a feature called the Bright Angel Fault.

One of my hindsights/regrets for this trip was the fact that we didn't take pictures of some of the

interesting people that we met along the way. In the morning as we were working our way along

the South Rim to the park exit, we met up with another motorcycle couple, husband and wife, each

on their own bikes. We came across each other at several of the viewpoints, and finally at a gas

station just outside the park. Along the way we had lots of discussion about motorcycles and other

stuff. Never did catch their names, and it would be an incredible fluke if we ever met up with them

again; wish I had a picture.

After a brief stopover at Sunset Crater National Monument, we passed through Flagstaff and

headed down route 89 through Sedona and Cottonwood. It was shortly after Flagstaff that we first

encountered really serious desert heat. By the time we arrived in Cottonwood we had the brilliant

idea of soaking our jeans with water to keep cool, a trick that worked wonders in such a dry

climate. A single soaking was enough to see us through to Jerome; the crossing of a mountain pass

at that point cooled things off nicely, and we made it in to Prescott.

It was still too warm to camp, so we decided on a hotel room. Rude surprise: it was Memorial Day

weekend, and the hotel staff informed us that there were no rooms or campsites available for 100

miles around. We were pretty concerned until I remembered that I had joined BMWMOA before

my trip, and I had brought The Anonymous Book with me. For you non-members, this is a list of

club members' phone numbers throughout the entire country who have pledged to help fellow

members out in a jam, up to and including providing camping space or even a spare room. We

found 15 numbers for Prescott, and called one of them that indicated he had a room available. Our

enthusiastic host rode out to the gas station to meet us, and then we went back to his place. In short

order, we were set up in one of his rooms, had a load of laundry going, and had made our way (by

truck) to downtown Prescott, where we were talking it up over a coupla beers.

After coming home and crashing for the evening, I got up in the middle of the night to retrieve

something from the bike, and was surprised to find that my host had put a cover on my

bike. Unusual hospitality, or so I thought until I got up the following morning and came outside to

find the guy washing my bike for me. Unbelievable. We all went out for breakfast; I had paid for

his beer the night before, and bought his breakfast for him that morning, but it hardly seemed

adequate in the face of all he'd done for us; not only had he gotten us out of an incredible jam, but

we had clean clothes and a freshly-washed bike to boot. Sheesh. Thanks a whole lot, Bill.

Hoover Dam - Arizona

After a late departure from Prescott, we traveled with all possible haste towards Hoover Dam,

trying to make our 1:30 reservation for a hard-hat tour of the dam. Not only were we twenty

minutes late, but our reservation had actually been for 1:00. Oops. No sweat, they had a couple of

vacancies in the next departing tour, so we got hooked up. (Murphy's slackin' again...)

I don't know what the regular tour is like, but the hard-hat tour is pretty impressive. At one point

you pass by banks of generators (17 in all), each one cranking out about 130 megawatts. The total

output is just over 2000 megawatts (I visited a fairly large coal-fired power plant once, but it was

only 400 MW, puny in comparison...). They don't spin very fast - 180 RPM - but they are

BIG. They don't let people with defibrillators go on the hard hat tour because of the EMF

surrounding those generators. Yikes.

This is Karen, half way through the tour, standing on the downstream side of the dam. The top of

the dam is about 730 feet up from where we took this picture, and the water level on the other side

was only about 30 feet down from the top. That's a lot of water. My favorite Hoover Dam fact? It

was built as a free-standing structure, with no dependence on the surrounding cliffs for either

support or anchorage. It's just one gigantic lump of concrete, wedged into place by all the water

behind it. The idea is that if there's an earthquake, the dam can bounce around all it wants (without

getting torn apart), and then the water upstream will wedge the dam more or less back into place

against the cliff walls.

My only complaint about the tour was the unholy heat when we were outside. After the tour we got

back to the bike and put all our gear on. On the way out of the parking lot we stopped at a spigot

we had noticed earlier, and we soaked each other with water from head to toe. Again, the

evaporative cooling worked great, keeping us sane most of the way to Vegas. However, we had

gotten a fair amount of water inside our boots, and between the air temperature and the sun hitting

the black leather of those boots, the water inside became almost unbearably hot.

Anyway, we finally made it to Las Vegas, where we relaxed for a while in the air-conditioned

comfort of our room at Caesar's Palace. (sorry, no pics; we were kinda tired).

The next day we headed up US-95, bound for a campsite at June Lake, just outside the east

entrance to Yosemite. Two things of note that happened along the way:

1. We passed by "The Shady Lady Ranch." Prostitution is still legal in parts of Nevada; draw your

own conclusions.

2. At a gas station near the end of the day, an elderly gentleman saw our Michigan plates and

approached us for a chat. He didn't look all that old, and seemed almost spritely; we figured he was

about 65 or 70. Eventually he mentioned that he was 91. Not terribly interesting in itself, but when

we mentioned our Hoover Dam tour, he said that he had helped lay power lines to the dam back in

1936. Kind of interesting to meet someone with historical significance like that. He also explained

a peculiar cloud formation directly above us as a "Sierra wave." Apparently moist air rolls over the

back edge of the Sierra Nevada mountains (where we were) and goes through this tumble, making a

long, narrow cloud, as much as 75 miles long. The cloud was interesting to see, and it made for a

truly amazing sunset; the sun at one point was actually lighting the cloud from below, causing it to

cast bizarre shadows on itself and go through some astounding color changes.

That night we camped at June Lake, a few miles from the entrance to Yosemite.

Yosemite National Park

One of my concerns for the trip was the status of Tioga Pass, at the east entrance to Yosemite. It

closes for the winter, and on average they open it around May 28. But that opening date has varied

from year to year, coming as early as the beginning of May, and as late as the end of June. We

were supposed to get there on May 29. If it wasn't opened in time, then we would have to detour to

the park's south entrance, which would have made for a very long day. Fortunately they opened it

about 4 days before we got there. The road was in good shape, but there had been some wildfires

in the area. Even as we approached the pass, we saw a helicopter dumping water on one

smoldering area.

As you might expect with the pass having just opened, it was still pretty cold and snowy up

there. We stopped next to this lake for a break, and as you can see the lake is choked with

ice. Kind of a strange thing to see at the end of May, especially considering that we had suffered

through 110-degree heat only the day before!

This is a picture of me eating a banana. Not much more to say (I already told you about the lake...)

From the east park entrance, it was a lazy 50-mile ride into Yosemite valley through some really

scenic territory: thick forests, granite domes, alpine meadows, and some pretty big snowfields. A

little bit of everything in there. This picture was taken in the valley. The bark on the tree where

Karen's sitting was polished almost glassy smooth. Apparently everyone who passes by sits on that

tree.

We arrived at our valley campsite in early afternoon. A gorgeous site, 100 feet from the river's

edge, with a view of Half Dome out the back of the tent. After setting up camp and eating lunch

(Dinty Moore...), we hiked the Mist Trail up to Vernal Falls. It's only a couple of miles up, and the

first half is relatively smooth going, but the second half is a long series of rock steps taking you up

the side of the falls. They call it the Mist Trail because when you're on these steps you get hosed

by spray from the waterfall. This was late spring, so we really got soaked to the bone. This shot

was taken at the top of the falls. It's hard to see, but there's not a dry spot on us.

On the way back down we saw this not-so-little guy crossing the trail. Kind of amusing to see all

of his legs doing the wave like that.

The next morning we headed to the south end of the park for a look at Mariposa Grove, a sanctuary

of giant sequoia trees. This particular one had been cut through the middle. You could walk

through it - and of course we did - but it's kind of unsettling to have all that weight over your head.

From Mariposa we worked our way up to Glacier point, a fantastic overview of the valley and

surrounding country side. That's Half Dome in the background, past all those butts (someone told

me the caption should have been simply "I'm not one of those butts...").

After Glacier point we had to go into the valley and come up the other side to leave via the park's

west entrance. Before we left the valley, we took one last shot, this one of Yosemite Falls. You can

see the upper falls very clearly; the lower falls is that little streak of white near the left edge of the

picture.

From Yosemite we made tracks for San Francisco, to meet up with my brother and a friend of

mine.

The Bay Area

We spent a few days in the bay area, checking out the ocean, downtown San Francisco, and also

receiving a guided tour of Sandia National Labs in Livermore (where my friend works).

My brother guided us through a very scenic drive from his place in Palo Alto to the ocean

front. This shot was taken on the beach there (my brother's in front; that's me in the blue jacket).

We spent some time in San Francisco itself. One of the funniest things is the seals at Pier

39. There are maybe 10 or 20 of these floating platforms anchored in place, and the seals just lie

there all mellow, sunning themselves. Now and then one would decide to go in the water - or one

would hop up out of the water - and this seal-on-the-move would waddle over the top of the rest of

the seals, provoking barks and yells of protest from these other downtrodden seals. Occasionally

there were territorial conflicts that resulted in one seal getting shoved off into the water. I think this

is what's happening at the bottom right in this picture.

Kennecott Copper Mine - Salt Lake City, Utah

From San Francisco, we headed east across northern Nevada, across the Bonneville Salt Flats, and

into Salt Lake City. In addition to checking out the Mormon temple there, we took a look at

Kennecott Copper Mine just outside the city. This is the largest open-pit copper mine in the

world. I was here about 20 years ago, and it was a scary drive up a twisty gravel road to get to the

rim, and there wasn't much more than a gravel parking lot at the top. Since then, the mining

company has apparently realized the PR opportunity that was there. This time the road was nicely

paved, and there was a gorgeous visitor center there. They had a museum with all kinds of

historical artifacts, and a theatre where they explain their whole mining operation.

This was the view from the rim where we stood. Each one of those vehicles on the road below is a

gigantic dump truck, two stories high, carrying a whopping 240 tons of rock. They dump their ore

into a crusher (right in the center of the picture), and after it's crushed into a workable size a

conveyor belt carries it a few miles directly through the mountain to a processing facility on the

outside. The trucks don't move very fast (15 MPH), and from where we were they looked very

small, so that the overall effect was kind of like watching ants do their thing.

This should help you figure out how big those trucks are. This is one of the tires that they use. It's

big. That's all I have to say about that.

End of the Road

From Salt Lake we headed east into Wyoming, to Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area. A

scenic drive south back into Utah, then east on route 40 across northern Colorado. Stayed in a

motel in Craig, and then the next day passed through Rocky Mountain National Park on our way to

Boulder, staying at my sister's house again for a couple of nights. After that, we made tracks across

the prairie to get home again.

I know it seems like a sudden ending, but I don't want to bore ya with too many pics from one trip

(OK, I didn't want to scan anymore photos...).

It was a good trip. The only thing we might have done differently? It would have been nice to

have a bit more time to explore each area before having to move on. Unfortunately, it's a hard

tradeoff to make when you're trying to get as far as the west coast, and you have such an extensive

list of waypoints as we did.

Don't know where I might go next year. Maybe the northwest? How about Alaska? (anyone know

if the AlCan highway is paved all the way yet?)