Surely, Colorado 90, leading into Utah 46, is one of the great unheralded motorcycle roads of all time. We twist into, and out of Paradox valley:



Across the valley we see the canyon of the Dolores river, which one would follow on the second half of the traditional gateway run. Upon entering Utah, we climb the La Salle mountains, the first of a series of lacotholitic mountains we will encounter today. We are dropped off on God's Own Highway south of Moab.

Temperatures today ranged from 40 in Ouray to 90 in Hanksville.

 

I take 24 across Utah. It's an OK road, great if you like geology, which I do.

Elk Day today, apparently. Saw several outside of Placerville, and one group in Utah.

Coming down out of the mountains into Delta, I am astonished to see how green the desert is. I've been through here before and that is not my memory of it. But, before I was pushing to Burning Man, and it was in the middle of the night, and I had a brain full of nicotine and Pro-Vigil, and it gets dark out here. I imagined I was traveling across hard-pan alkali flats teeming with chupacabras but I guess that wasn't the case, it was just pastures and cows and pretty mountains.

I stay in Delta and take off across the desert on route 50 at dawn. Showers were coming through, it was cool and smelled of sage, and indeed the desert was green.

 

In Ely, I elect to take 6 to California. Maximizes time in the mountains, minimizes time in the desert floor. Also sets up some fine runs in the Eastern Sierra.

If you think the traffic on 50 is a pain in the ***, this is the road for you. It takes you past a cool volcanic field. The mountains you see as you crest the last summit toward Tonopah is not the Sierras, it's the White Mountains. We are going there.

If I had any sense I would have stopped in Tonopah and visited with the hooker ghost. The desert is glorious at dawn but in the afternoon it's a pain in the ***. West of Tonopah it's legit desert, same general area as Death Valley albeit higher altitude. Better but no picnic. But. The forecast is good, cloud cover and 85 degrees max. I'm road-weary and I miss my cat. So I press on,

I tough it out through the desert, dodging the F4 dust devils marching across the valley floor, and turn off at Coaldale. One quickly climbs into the White Mountains, temp drops about 20 degrees.



The downhill into Cali

 

Then to 120, a fine twisty road. It has a section of whoop-de-do's, and goes past some impressive rock formations. So it's like riding Big Thunder Mountain.



Those mountains you see on the horizon, that's not the Sierras yet. Although those are interesting, there's some old tress up there. Thousands of years old.

 

THAT's the Sierras.



I reckon that's Mammoth off to the left, it's still open. Yosemite to the right, the road you're on goes over the pass but it's still snowed in.

Thus, 120 is a truly epic motorcycle road. The part through Yosemite is like any national park, views are fantasic but you kind of have to go slow. Down here, not so much, especially in the woods leading down to Mono Lake. Pour it on.

 

Finally, route 89 into Tahoe. Twisties plus pucker factor, if you can ride this road well and courageously, congratulations are in order. Views are OK



Plus, it plops you down into Tahoe. West shore, no less. Hard to beat that.

Home now. Banged down the 50 tonight. There's the unpleasantness of getting into, and out of Sac, and staying frosty enough not to get creamed either way.

And there you have it. I accomplished nothing, not sure things would have been much different if I'd rode back and forth to Fresno every day for two weeks. Yet. Yet.

 

You and me both brother. I reckon that's what the trip was about.

I imagine I rode past a lot of vets on the great open highway. There is a thing in this world that gives us misery, and I reckon it has something to do with us. There is also a thing in this world that gives us comfort, and it's something bigger than us.

Welcome home gents