Grand Canyon 2003

The history… Dan, Antoine, and Adam have been talking about riding from Chicago to the Grand Canyon for at least a year. We all met a few years ago when we bought Harley’s and took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course – we all had the same skill level, we all had the passion, so it seemed somewhat natural that we would all end up riding together. The first few trips were local trips – down to Starved Rock State Park just south of Chicago, or up to Windsor across the bridge from Detroit. As we became more proficient in our riding skills, the trips became longer and longer. Along the way we all decided we liked BMWs better. The “first annual cross-country trip” was last August – we all did Chicago to Yellowstone and a bunch of other National Parks. It was cool. So it was pretty natural for us to start thinking about the “second annual cross-country trip.”

This vision… Where to go, where to go? The Grand Canyon was one of the first destinations discussed. So was Alaska, so was Europe, so was Key West. I suspect this is a roadmap of future annual trips…! We decided that the Grand Canyon was the place to go. I’m not quite sure how the decision was actually made – I probably had something to do with it as I can be a bit overbearing. Ha!

The challenge… When to go? We did the last one in August. I’m a sales guy and generally can’t take off two weeks early in the spring/summer as the end of the fiscal year is quickly approaching. We all went back and forth trying to find dates – what worked for one wouldn’t work for all. A June date was proposed – but wouldn’t work for me. A July date was proposed and didn’t work for Antoine. An August date was proposed – but conflicted with the CCR. It was beginning to look like we wouldn’t be able to plan a trip after all…

The surprise… At somewhat of a last minute notice, I discovered I had to be in Phoenix for a work-related function on May 5th and 6th. I started looking at airfare and then I thought, “wait a second… Phoenix is kind of close to the Grand Canyon.” Then I thought, “nah, it’ll never work”, and then I thought some more. I went back and forth for a few days and then shot the guys an email and asked them if they wanted to ride with me – I’d leave on May 1st and return to Chicago on the 10th or 11th. The bonus? They could shack up with me at some schwanky resort in Scottsdale. Unfortunately neither of them could get time away from work on such short notice. Those jobs have a way of getting in the way, don’t they?

So… that’s what brings me to the Holiday Inn Express in Marshfield, MO this evening. Triple A rate of $60 – not great, but not bad. It’s clean, nice, free HBO, and all the (well, most) comforts of home. I was going to leave Chicago at 6:00a this morning, but screwed around a bit and ended up leaving at 10:30a. About 500 miles, two gas stops, and eight hours later I role into Marshfield. I asked the gal at the desk if there was a place within walking distance that offered a beer and a hamburger. She told me I could get a six-pack and order a pizza! Ha! I did! Missouri is actually a very scenic place – I was pretty impressed with the drive. There were some slight hills on Interstate 44 – and even some pretty decent twisties. But… two problems. Nobody in this State seems to use their turn signal and I don’t think anybody really understands the purpose of the left lane. I mean, really, how hard is it to figure out that you don’t pace the car next to you for 10 miles? And I wasn’t tailgating or anything. Anyway, here I am. I didn’t stop to take pictures today – I do intend to document my trip and stop whenever I see something interesting along the way. I saw one or two interesting spots today but nothing really jumped out at me. I almost stopped and took photos of the Arch when cruising through downtown St Louis – but you all know what it looks like anyway. Oh yeah, I forgot my circular polarizer. Damn. Guess I’ll have to Photoshop all the pics. I took a few snaps at the hotel this evening.

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It’s Friday morning, May 2nd. I woke up at 2:00a this morning – I guess the hotel wasn’t as comfortable as I thought! I gave serious thought to packing up and leaving super early but then thought about trying to hit the sack for a few more hours. It worked – I crashed until 6:00a and then watched the weather channel for a bit. After a quick breakfast I decided to get moving – my goal was to do at least 500 miles. I’d previously mapped out my entire route and have been hoping to stick to it as close as possible. I did consider doing a 1000-mile day so I could go get one of those Iron Butt plate holders – but will save that for another day.

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I hit the road about 7:00a and made great time – really great time – I was averaging about 95 for the first three hours. Interstate 44 just screams at you to go fast. I quickly left Missouri behind and hit the Oklahoma state line. I didn’t realize it when planning but I-44 in Oklahoma is a toll-road – it cost me about eight bucks for the entire route. Not to mention that other fee that was incurred in Oklahoma. They say that the Oklahoma State Patrol doesn’t fool around. Well… all I can say is, “No kidding.” Ask me how I know.

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So the copper pulls me over and tells me he’s been following me for 10-miles – sans lights, of course. He asks if I had seen him and I just looked at him with one of those, “do you think I’d have been speeding if I saw you” looks and he just grinned. I dig up the paperwork and am sitting in the front seat of his car – very impressive, btw. His cruiser was decked out with all the best gadgets - a super high resolution camera, radar, and all the radios and stuff that go along with it. I figured I’d begin with my, “Officer, I just wasn’t paying attention, I have no excuse.” He said, “Yep, you’re right.” I then tried the old, “I suppose the time to ask for forgiveness was before I started speeding.” He said, “Yep, you’re right.” This goes on and on for a few minutes and I hear nothing good. I finally decided to accept it in good grace… but not before one last try. I asked him if he would let me go if I made him laugh. He smiled and said, “Sure.” I looked him right in the eye and told him that the cocaine and the guns on the motorcycle weren’t mine. He just looked at me for a few seconds and then broke into a huge laugh. I couldn’t believe it! It worked. He then smiled and handed me this:

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Then he told me that he knocked the speed down a bit. Ha! I was just kidding, by the way, it wasn’t 195, it was 95. But when playing with Photoshop you just have to be creative. He told me that he knocked off a few miles per hour to keep me in the lower bracket. Great. I’ve got some other document that details how much – it’s something like $200. Kind of makes me wish I had invested in that RAM mount for my radar detector – which, I’m sad to say, is sitting home in my car. Ah, well, what the hell. You play you pay. Before I got out of the car I thanked him for dropping it down a bit – I said, “Ah, thanks. At least for half of this.” He was still laughing as he pulled away. What the hell – he was doing his job. I packed up and got back on the road and resolved to keep it around 80 or so.

I rolled through Oklahoma City and stopped to visit the Oklahoma City National Memorial. I’ve wanted to see this for some time – for a lot of reasons. First, because it is a historic site – and the events of April 19 will resonate with many of us forever. Second, because I wanted to try and gain a better understanding of what would cause someone to make the decisions that led to the bombing. What happened to Timothy McVeigh to make him flip all the switches in his head that led to Oklahoma City? I share no sympathies for his cause, or for his actions. But… and this is a big but, I understand the emotions around government interference. Around big brother. Around government crossing the line. I was as shocked about Waco and Ruby Ridge as the rest of us – but I believe our government has never properly answered for what happened either time. Third, I could envision a kinship to Timothy McVeigh under different circumstances. We’re both vets – we both served. We were about the same age. We felt passionate about some of the same things. Having said all this, let me reiterate – I don’t believe in what he did. I voice my opinions, I vote, I work for change. He did none of this. Why, I wondered?

The Oklahoma City National Memorial has a museum and is a sobering place. The tour starts on the third floor and begins a few minutes before the bombing. They have copies of the local newspapers and a tribute to the world before the bombing – typical suburbia. The tour then moves to a replica of the county clerks’ office, which was located across the street from the Murrah building. There was a public hearing underway and they were recording the hearing. The entire blast and the confusion that followed were recorded for posterity. It was bone-chilling. The rest of the tour walks you through the minutes, hours, day, and weeks afterward. It was a very touching and moving experience – and the tears were flowing. It’s well worth a visit if you’re in the area. Sadly, I left with no greater insight to the mind of terror; no better understanding of what makes one man take the path to evil.

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I had about 150 miles left on the agenda for the day, so I headed out towards Shamrock, Texas. I hit Shamrock, and like any cost-conscious traveler, I had to follow the signs to the “$21.95 Motel” – big mistake. It looked like there was a drug deal happening in the parking lot. I cruised around a bit more to check out the town and ended up back at the Best Western – it was right off the expressway and was really my first choice. I just had to go look around as I got here about 4:00p. It’s relatively new and is actually very nice. The rate was $69 or so – a bit more than I wanted to spend, but what the hell. There’s a pool that I may use a bit later. The gal at the front desk told me this was a dry county…! Good thing I had a few beers left over from last night. Dinner consisted of a gourmet meal from Taco Bell. If I don’t find a good place to eat tomorrow night I’m gonna scream. I’m optimistic that Gallup, NM will offer a few good eateries. Maybe Chinese. Maybe a steakhouse. Maybe Pizza Hut.

I headed out of Shamrock, TX and made inroads to Gallup, NM. The day was essentially highway riding, about 500 miles or so. I stopped at the Albuquerque BMW shop and was fairly impressed with their inventory - lots of bikes, even a Black LTC!, and a ton of great riding clothes. I gave serious consideration to purchasing a Kilimanjaro jacket - great selection, great colors, great prices. But then I thought I had a few thousand miles to go and already had a pretty decent leather jacket - what would I do with it? I could have fedexed it home, but thought it would work for my trip. Speaking of riding gear, what was I wearing? Boots, jeans, leather jacket, t-shirt, and leather chaps. Plus a silk helmet liner that I pulled up over most of my face to prevent sunburn - worked very well. The jacket and the chaps are holdovers from my Harley days (sold my Harley the other day, btw), but I'm still cool with wearing them as they work just fine. I ended up chatting with one of the sales reps for 15 or 20 minutes and then got back on the road - but I was still amazed at the number of bikes they had.

My final destination for the night was supposed to be in the Chambers, AZ area; however I couldn't find a decent hotel in the area when planning my trip. Rather than stay at the Chiefton Hotel in Chambers, I decided to stay in Gallup, NM at one of the brand motels. Well... I left Shamrock pretty early - something like 5:00a - and had only done 500 miles. Could I have done more? Sure. But I was thinking that the closer I got to Phoenix, the more expensive my hotel rooms would become. I rolled into Gallup around 1:30p or so. I pulled up to some hotel right at the hotel ramp - the Holiday Inn Express - and asked the gal at the front desk if I could check in. She looks at the clock and tells me that check-in is at 2:00p. Would I like to make a reservation? I couldn't believe it - I was tempted to ask if she would like to blow me, but I just laughed it off and told her I'd go across the street and get a room at the place next door. I went next door and they were more than happy to see me. I could not believe the wind in this town - it was blowing like you wouldn't believe. I asked the gal at the desk if the wind would be that strong all afternoon, all night. She just laughed and said yes. I then asked if the wind would continue from the same direction and she said yes. We figured out that it would be good if I could have a room on the downwind side of the hotel - with the hotel between me and the wind - I was really worried about the wind knocking over my LT.

Once I got situated I decided to put on some shorts, a tshirt, and a baseball cap and go explore the town. There was a local mall next door and I hit up a bookstore and picked up a new book -- "No Second Chance" by Harlen Coben -- it was a great read. Then I looked around for an Applebees or a Chilies. Didn't happen. I ended up in the local TexMex place -- which was in the mall next to the place where they take pictures of your kids. This place was pretty interesting - although it was the third of May, the place was celebrating Cinco de Mayo full steam ahead... plenty of serious Mexican cantina music, plenty of Mexican beer, but not so many Mexicans. Plenty, more than plenty of American Indians - perhaps Navajo. I've never felt more white in my life - and this coming from a guy who grew up in the deep south and has been in plenty of situations in which I was the only white face. What was interesting is that I felt no ostracism. I actually felt pretty welcome - probably more of a social commentary on me than the folks I was drinking with. The guy next to me starts telling me that they are expecting a "Professional Bull Rider (PBR)" who will come ride the mechanical bull that night and the whole town is coming out to check this guy out. Now you gotta understand this - I'm sitting there, a late-30-something fat white guy with a buzzcut, blue jean shorts, a t-shirt, and a ballcap that says, "San Francisco" on it. From his perspective I'm looking more like a late-30-something queen going through a mid-life crisis than a Professional Bull Rider. But... I look right over at him and say, "yeah, i know, I'm the guy." His jaw drops and he says, "What?" and then turns to his 10 friends and starts talking in Navajo. All of them look at me and you can see the shock on their faces. They all start coming up to me and clapping me on the back and telling me what an honor it is to have a PBR in their town and that the whole town is coming out to see me ride that night. I entertained everyone with stories of bull riding from Texas to ESPN and back. Boy oh boy, did I have a blast. I bought a few rounds of drinks and they bought a few rounds of drinks. Damn - I sat in this place all afternoon. Finally one of the guys gets all serious and comes up to me and asks how I'm gonna ride the bull when I'm so trashed. I look around and notice that all of them are kinda concerned... really. I looked around and told them that I'd prove it and started towards the bull in the middle of the bar. I got right up next to it and then just laughed and told 'em that I was screwing with them and I had never even seen a bull!!! Man oh man - you could have heard a pin drop. Then everybody just laughed and we had another round.

I stayed for another few hours and had a blast - but never did see the PBR show up. Maybe they were yanking my chain?

I was in bed fairly early - remember I got to town fairly early too!! It rained that night and I woke about 4:00a. I hit the road by 5:00a and was on the way to Phoenix via Flagstaff.

So the next morning comes around and I'm up early and on the road. I left before sunrise and was enjoying the ride with no traffic what-so-ever. 30 or 40 miles down the road I hit Chambers, AZ - you remember, the place where I thought there was only one motel and no restaurants? I stopped in Gallup, NM because I thought there were more sights there (well, hell, I did have a good time), however this place, the Chiefton Motel, looked pretty nice. There were a bunch of fast food places nearby, a few bars, etc. I could have easily stopped there. But I guess I wouldn't have traded the Wind Talkers experience for anything - I really did have a good time.

So I'm cruising down Interstate 40 and I look over to my left and see a pretty cool photo - I figure that I've got to get a photo of this, so I pull over at the next exit and snap a bunch of shots. I climb back on the ride and realize that I've just gotten off at the exit to the Petrified Forest National Park. Hell, I think, I've got a NP pass - why not see what's what? I pull off and pass a ranger at the entrance to the park - we wave and I continue on. I get 1/2 mile up the road and find a big barrier that says the park is closed. Damn. We've gone through a time change and AZ doesn't recognize daylight savings, so I'm off by two hours. I go back to the ranger and he tells me the park won't open for 40 minutes. I figure I'm close so what the hell. We sit there and chat for a while and I share a cigar (ok, I didn't share *a* cigar, we both had one) and shot the shit for 40 minutes. A few other rangers show up and go open the gates and I cruise through the park. It was pretty cool. I took more photos than you can imagine, but took the "All About" photos while in the park:

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You've got to remember stopping at the park was a spur of the moment thing for me - it wouldn't have even happened if I hadn't wanted to stop for photos. The ride through the park took me north of the Interstate (I-40) and then south of the interstate. I figured I could find a way south to Phoenix rather than getting back on 40 and hitting Flagstaff. This turned out to be a great decision and led to the best part of the trip. I ended up picking up US180 out of the pack and taking it NW to Holbrook. I jumped on 377 South to Heber to 260 West to Payson through the Tonto National Forest down to Scottsdale. Damn. This was probably some of the best riding I've ever done - lots of great scenery, lots of twisties, lots of bikes. WOW!! I wish I had stopped for more photos.

I hit Scottsdale and then the schwanky hotel the company was putting me up in for a few days and had a pretty good time. My only concern was figuring out how to secure my LT on a blacktop parking lot - I left my LT on a blacktop lot in the heat in Michigan last summer and it almost fell over - it sank down about 2" in the soft tar of the blacktop. I couldn't find a covered parking area, so finally compromised on parking it in a spot that was next to a concrete curb that has a concrete napkin around the curb - I left her on her side stand and prayed I wouldn't have any problems. I didn't. Thank God.

So the next few days go by slowly......... remember, this is a work trip. We have 10-hour days while we talk about this year and what next year will look like. All in all a good thing for the company. But the road was calling...

I ended up staying through Tuesday night and leaving first thing in the morning on Wednesday. My destination was the Grand Canyon Village - about 200 miles or so - an easy day. So I've tried to use my American Express for the entire trip - it'll make it easier for me to fill up at those pay-at-the-pump stations and will make it easier to pay for the hotels, etc. While I have cash - and probably enough for the entire trip - I'm planning on using "the card." Well, I may have forgotten to mention this, but the last few times I tried to use it, it was declined. Shit. I did have cash, I did have other plastic, but I was worried about this - what was going on? I've hard this card for 10+ years. I call AX at the first stop, somewhere back in Texas when it was first declined. The number is busy. Shit. I paid cash and moved on. I tried to use it at a gas station in some small town between Phoenix and Flagstaff (at the pump) and it didn't work... "See cashier." I see the cashier and he tells me that he has to keep the card... I'm thinking, "WTF???" Fortunately I had not given him the card. I found a payphone and called AX and they're like, "Oh, yes, we noticed that somebody was using your card all over the US and we wanted to make sure it was you. Yes, this was for your protection." While I can't disagree with the premise, I had to think "*American* Express?" Why the hell don't they call it "Illinois Express" if they're gonna get upset if I use it outside of Illinois? We square things away and I'm good to go. But that goober at the gas station was sure disappointed that he didn't get to keep my card.

I ended up hitting the Grand Canyon Village later that day - the SPIII Deluxe doesn't have great accuracy when it comes to roads in the CG area. But the scenery more than made up for the problems. I stayed at the El Tovar hotel on Wednesday night - it was nice, it was right next to the rim. Well worth a stay.

So I arrive at the El Tovar hotel a bit early and can't check in. They gladly check my bags and I'm off to visit the Grand Canyon. There's a trail not far from the hotel that is used by most tourists to get down in the Canyon -- the Bright Angel trail. I figure I may as well walk down a bit and take some photos. I see, across the valley/canyon, a mule train working its way up -- I take some snaps. I see some huge Condors land on a big outcropping and I figure if I sit there long enough I'll get some great photos of these Condors taking off. I scurry down off the side of the trail and plant my butt down. I'm there for 45 minutes or so. The mule train has slowly worked its way across the side of the canyon and is coming up behind me. I snap a few photos of the mule train and then the lead mule gets close. The lead mule, a pack guide, says, "Man, watch out, there's a bobcat behind you!" I jump up and turn around and, sure as shit, there's a bobcat sitting 20 feet away from me looking like a medium-sized dog or some super large cat. I freaked out. I jump up to the trail and get behind the mules. All of the tourists are taking photos (they'd probably have gotten some good shots of that cat eating me if they'd come along 10-minutes later). I figure, what the hell, let me get some shots as well. Here’s what I have:

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Wow.

I ended up chatting with the mule train guy and he was like, "Man, I've worked here 15 years and have never seen a bobcat!!!" I asked him if I was going to get eaten and he just looked at me and shrugged. So I'm in the hotel bar later that evening and I'm showing the staff the shot on my PC and everybody freaks - nobody has ever seen a bobcat this close and none of them have heard of this close of a confrontation. Wow.

I get in bed fairly early that night with every intention of getting up at 4:30a so I can see the sunrise and get some great pictures. Of course I'm more tired than I'll admit at 4:30a and end up sleeping in until 7:00a. I'm off along the road that leads to the east exit of the park. I stop a few times to snap photos and nearly kill myself at one scenic overlook. I climbed over a small wall, took some photos, and then clambered over the same wall to get back on the pavement and trip. I drop my camera bag and land on my face and my hands - and my face is about 1/2" from the remnants of a steel pole that used to hold up some sign - it's poking up out of the payments about six inches (think of an old sign post that is used to hold up a stop sign that is later chopped down). I just lay on the ground for a few minutes and thought about how screwed I'd have been if my head was 1/2 to the left. Damn.

I get on the road and make it through Tuba City on Highway 160 through Arizona and on the way to the "Four Corners" area. I thought it would be worth seeing... it wasn't. I ended up riding right past the Four Corners area as they had set up a bunch of tourist stuff. Go figure.

Today is Thursday - I ended up motoring through a ton of interesting sites, skipping one national park that I wanted to see (Mesa Verde NP) and ran on to Walsenburg, CO. Today was only 536 miles but it was an all day thing -- lots of state routes and twisties. A blast - but some of the roads were under construction and were literally two-lane jobs of nothing but gravel. Damn - I really tested the LT today. Fortunately the construction jobs were relatively short (a few miles).

I pulled into Walsenburg and asked if they had any restaurants in town that delivered... the lady behind the counter just laughed at me and told me there was an attached restaurant and that was that.

Go figure.

I wanted to add a few more comments to the Thursday part fo the trip - I'm on my way to Walsenburg, CO and I had to go over Wolf Creek Pass - didn't look like much on the maps, but it's getting colder and colder. It's something like 72 degrees at the bottom of the mountain. Half an hour later, numerous twisites later, and 35 degrees cooler, I'm at the top. There's falling snow and it's sticking to my visor & the windshield. There are snow plows doing their thing on top of the mountain.

I had to stop for photos...

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I crest the mountain (about 10 or 12 thousand feet or so) and then I'm off on the downward slide. There's still plenty of snow, and even some ice on the road that hasn't melted off. I pass through a few snow sheds and am a bit worried about not seeing ice on the road so I go through them pretty slow. The further I come down, the better the roads become. In no time at all I'm off to Walsenburg and the temp is back in the 70s. Do note that most mornings I had put on my heated jacket underneath a sweather and my leathers - it was well worth it on this day.

More later.