Wow! I’m sitting to blog about the last couple of days and I can’t remember where I was. It seemed like I crossed into three different states (Arizona, Nevada, and Utah), and stayed in a couple of motels.
We left Phoenix late and only made it to Wickenburg on account of the smell of food in the air. We had a rough day so we made sure we had a hotel room with a Jacuzzi and a fridge (for the beer we brought). Michael had an accident on the KLR while trying to get it into the diesel truck for Alaska. He drove it up the ramp (way too fast) and couldn’t stop on the aluminum decking of the semi- truck container. He slid (going very fast) into the back end of the truck and into the tools. When he hit the wall, he flew into the bike and broke the mirror off when he hit it with his chest. He banged up his shoulder, wrist, and got a pretty good sized bite taken out of his chest. We chalked it up to a couple of thoughts: He was damn lucky, and I wished I filmed it.
Close to what he was trying to ride
http://www.visionmasters.com/
What it looks like when a motorcycle mirror bites you.
We sat in the Jacuzzi and drank Kilt Lifter and enjoyed the stars, palm trees, a gentle breeze, and southwestern ambiance. The soaking helped his soreness.
Kilt Lifter
http://www.summitbrew.com/
We left Arizona and rolled into Nevada. I once heard someone say the state bird of Nevada is the Walmart bag – so true. The ugly eye sore of Vegas was soon upon us. My thighs were sore later that night from clenching the tank so hard as we drove through Vegas traffic. The drivers are nuts, and go so fast without looking. I wanted to live, and I was having a bad omen about this trip. We got through without a hitch. We left Wickenburg with coffee on the mind and rolled into Kingman, Arizona. No coffee. Damn. We had breakfast at IHOP in Kingman on account of not being able to find the coffee shop the iPhone was claiming existed. The waitress sweetly suggested that I get the “senior” special when I said the portions were so big and I wasn’t that hungry. Michael snickered.
We visited with Michael’s grandmother and uncle in St. George, Utah. They filled us up with butterfingers and coffee for the road (got to love relatives that do that). We wanted to get closer to Salt Lake, even though it was already dark, so we passed on the offer or a place to stay and continued on to Cedar City.
We stopped for gas and reached for the electric start on my bike, and it was dead. Damn. It was so cold, that I was running heated gear, charging my iPhone, heated grips, and the really nice lights from Tourtech. Way too much power draw. Michael thinks we need to put a relay or something into the system. I find this happening to me frequently when I am maxing out power needs. We let the bike sit for a few minutes and shut everything off except the basics. Michael was able to start the bike back up, but I rode without the extra lights in the dark all the way to Beaver, Utah.
We stayed in a hotel in Beaver, Utah (yes, this is really the name of the town). We rolled in late and nothing was in walking distance. We were cold, on account that we had been riding at the 6500 foot level. We both wanted soup and beer. We recalled we left the good beer in the fridge in Wickenburg. We were now in Utah. Damn again.
We settled for coke and pizza (they delivered).
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