Crosscountry Adventures

From Capitol Reef the ride down HWY 12 through Boulder to Escalante is amazing. Elevation changes bring drastic swings in temperature and curvy roads. The rock colors change as you pass through millions of years of geologic history, and the beautiful formations make for an exciting ride that you’ll constantly want to stop to take pictures. In all, this was the best “ride” of the entire trip. I saw no roads to equal this one, and everyone should get a chance in their life to ride it.

A couple views from the overlooks as I passed by.

As you can see, the rocks change colors, but also the vegetation changes as you go up and down in elevation. Some places are pure desert while others are forested and cool.

Bryce National Park is one of those famous ones with some really amazing scenery. People from California can make it there in a day, plus there is all the regular daily traffic, so it is very crowded. Some of the other parks are best known for their variety in landscape and scenery, and there is no way you could see all the best parts them all in a day, but Bryce it different. The park itself is probably best described a one hit wonder with some of the strangest rock formations you’ll ever see. That doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful. It surely is that!

But first the bike at entrance shot. She sure does get around.

I took nearly 200 photos in the park. If you want to see them all click here. These are just a smattering of the amazing sights.

There are trails that go through the Hoodoos as they are called. Click here to see the hike. It’s just too many photos to post here. I’m already way overbudget.

A couple more before I go.

Bryce is a great park and so beautiful. Go see it.

I’ve been home for a while now but am still plugging away at the blog. Being home has kept me distracted, but the memories of the trip haven’t left me yet. I remember at the end, after turning back from LA, how much I just wanted to be home. I boogied back thinking that would be best, and maybe it was. Of course now I want to go riding again. Never satisfied! It is good to have these pictures and words to look back on. And it all makes me think about the next big trip.

After the nice night and night sky at Natural Bridges I finally planned to head west. I’d spent the last 5 days on the eastern side of Utah enjoying the parks and monuments there, but many more things awaited exploration on the other side of the state, and for the first time in nearly a week it was more than 2 hours to the nearest park. Utah is high density with national parks. My first destination was Capitol Reef, somewhere I had barely heard of, but it would turn out to be a really nice place worthy of more time than I gave it. Still, I had to get there, and the road that-a-way was quite nice.

As I understood it there were only a couple of ways to get there, and most involved crossing or going around Lake Powell; the ferry was $25! I decided to take a more land based route which took me near Hite, UT and through some beautiful scenery. I really enjoyed first the windy canyon roads then the long lonely wide open spaces.

Crossing the Colorado River was nice. The gorge there is striking, and it is odd to see that much water after being in the desert for so long. But that was fleeting.

Then there was the wide open

Getting towards Capitol Reef was fun. The scenery changed, and the geology definitely made a turn for the better. It was no longer flat layered rocks eroded into cliffs. Instead sloping layers covered by red rocks told of sand dunes that had been buried and preserved. These were cool to look at.

Then I entered the park and took the standard bike photo. This is an important part of my collection, and I’ve got a couple dozen like it, most of which still have the VS800, but many now with the VStrom.

The park is gorgeous. I rode to the visitor center to plan the day’s hikes and scenic roads. There aren’t many roads, and you can do them all in a couple hours, but there is plenty of hiking, so it was a good idea to make some sort of plan. There was a video playing that talked about the Mormon settlers that called this area home. They made a life there and set up schools. The community was strong even until the park was created and they had to move. To this day the orchards and structures still exist, and they turned out to be great sights in my visit. But first I heeded the weather, which promised to soak me through. I figured it would be good to go into town, Torrey, unpack and grab some lunch. On the way out I snapped these.

After lunch it was time for some gravel roads and hiking. First was to a place called “the Tanks.” The trail was easy, and the rain had cleared most people away. So it was quite an enjoyable hike through a narrow canyon and former road.

And the tanks themselves were nice

Some more cool scenery on the way to the next trail

Where I found an apricot orchard! and much more. It was quite an odd sight in the desert. The river that runs through this valley was used to supply the water everyone needed to live and cultivate food. This was literally the fruit of their labor. Since the fruit was ripe I picked some and enjoyed eating in a nice cool place in the shade of a tree.

I stopped by the country store for an apple pie and coffee. It was unreal this place.

From there I took another hike which was splendid. I won’t post all the pictures here, only the highlights, but you should check out the rest in this link because it was so nice.

On the way out of the park I found a couple nice sights including a great rainbow.

It was a great day, and I really enjoyed Capitol Reef. It is one of those places in the world that everyone should visit.

After leaving Canyonlands I wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere. My only plan was to reach Natural Bridges again. NBNM is centrally located between the five parks in Utah, so it makes a great mid trip stopping place. It is also very quiet and rated the best night sky in the lower 48 states. Only a few places in the world are this dark. Add to that the high elevation, and the sky is really something special. Most people never see it like this. Unfortunately when I was there a few days earlier it rained quite a bit, and the sky was impossible to see. This time promised to be better.

I made sure to take another route so as to avoid backtracking. This wasn’t difficult since the way to Moab from NB was mostly dirt, I just took the highway this time. It turns out that there are some great sights along the highway. I was mildly pleased.

It was weird to see such a nice lake in the middle of the desert. It is a reservoir, as you can imagine, that collects melted snow and looks pretty. I think it is used for recreation too.

I was taking my time and let the sun get low. This wasn’t a big deal as I only had to set up camp when I got there - no hiking this time. I really enjoyed riding around sunset and took every opportunity to snap a photo.

This was one of those rare silver lining moments. Every cloud does have one!

So, one of my favorite setups for a photo is when the sun is about to set. It gives me the best shadow for the buck. If I can add to that a hill next to the road, a really rare shot comes up.

I had some more nice shots along the way.

After setting up camp and cooking dinner I set out to take photos of the sky. These were all taken after dark, but the twilight was enough that with a steady tripod I could get some neat stills.

You can see Venus in the first and last of those three.

Lastly I did my best to capture a few constellations.

upside-down Scorpio, Sagittarius, and the two together

Lyra, Cygnus, Aquila

Summer Triangle: Cygnus, Aquila, and Lyra

Big Dipper.

That’s it before the clouds rolled in. It was a fun ride and a fun evening.

I left Needles quite happy. It was great being there, and everyone I talked to said the same. Quite a park it was!

My next stop was Moab, Utah. It was where I’ve been wanting to go for a couple of years now. The riding out there is fantastic, and it’s a sort of adventure rider paradise. Moab itself isn’t too special. It’s an oasis in a desert. As you ride in to the valley surrounded by high red rocks on all sides the dark green trees filling the lowest part of the valley. It’s an oddball place, but it had everything I was to need: a hotel, a laundromat, autoparts stores, and a supermarket. It had been several days since I’d seen any of those things.

After visiting the visitor center and finding out a plan for touring the national parks nearby I found the Virginian Hotel. This hotel isn’t the nicest in town, but is sure is less expensive. The Best Western 1 block away was $80 more! I checked in early, updated the blog, ate some lunch, and headed to Arches National Park. Arches was supposed to be 95° that day and 105° the next. That influenced my decision to not put it off.

Arches is only 4 miles from downtown Moab. To get there you cross the famed Colorado River. The river is green at this point, probably from all the damming upstream that blocks the sediments. Arches appears on the right, and you notice they’ve prepared for crowds. Besides being nearly downtown Moab, Arches is very close to interstate 70, and any passerbys can stop in to see most of the sights without losing much time in their trip across the country. It’s also famous even being younger than most of the other parks. This all spells crowd, and thankfully I was there on a weekday in the heat of summer or it would have been worse that I experienced.

Normally I do my best to take pictures of parks without people in them. That way the natural beauty can stand out. That is nearly impossible in Arches, so I decided to show what it is really like: a barren wasteland full of plump sunburned people and a few interesting geologic monuments to wind and time.

The ever necessary entrance shot with my bike.

Thankfully I was able to get one with just the bike, and a nice woman held her kids back and took a photo of me - something I’d neglected at the entrance to most parks.

Climbing into Arched NP you leave the valley below which hosts the visitor center and entrance roads. The sight from above is pure desert. You learn from signs posted along the road that this area used to be near a sea, and sand dunes covered the area causing the strange hershey kisses shaped rock features.

You also pass large balancing rocks that have somehow withstood the erosion that comes with ages of wind and rain.

This is the first inclination that there will be something special to see here, and it does get more interesting as you proceed into the park.

First stop is the windows. They stand near each other aligned north-south and facing the other two cardinal directions.

Nearby are two other arches, doubles in fact. One sitting next to another. They are nice to and have names, which I forget.

Here at Arches hiking is not like at other parks. The trails are paved and very short. In fact, from the road you can see most of the interesting sights. This is uncommon and breeds a different type of visitor. In my experience at national parks, and the number visited has grown large, only the people most willing to hike some distance see the best and most beautiful parts. That is not true at Arches. Most of the people I encountered were elderly or with young children. And except for the heat Arches definitely caters to them. Very few people were my age; but that is not uncommon.

I saw as many arches as possible in the afternoon I was there. There are hundreds if not thousands, but most are small and not impressive. Saving the best for last, I finally parked at the Delicate Arch parking lot and prepared to do the one challenging hike of the day: a 3 mile round trip uphill climb. It’s not uphill both ways of course, but the heat did add a factor most people weren’t ready for. I met some retired police officer Harley riders passing through from New Jersey to California who were wearing black shirts and riding boots. They had just gotten back from the hike and complained about the difficulty. I wasn’t worried.

It really was uphill to the endpoint of the trail, and I paused a few times to catch my breath under the guise of taking pictures. I’d been hiking a lot recently and was pretty fit, so I felt for the people who had to sit in the sun for long periods to rest. On the way up I came upon a mother daughter combo. They were both dressed in hot pink, and the girl’s face was these same as her shirt. She was complaining about the heat and how the hike was too far. The brothers and father went on ahead. This girl was probably 10, and both she and her mother will never see Delicate Arch. It was just too hard for them. I think they had planned poorly and not eaten at all since breakfast. So I passed them the only snack I had - a strawberry pop-tart, which they shared and were grateful for. I left when the rest of the family returned, but only after finding them some shade. They had been sitting in 100 degree heat on a bare rock with trees just 20 yards away.

The rest of the climb/hike was without adventure, but the scenery got better as I went.

Finally I reached the Delicate Arch. It was worth the hike!

People are courteous enough to allow you a chance to take a photo without anyone else. Actually, there is a sign asking you to do that. Even still, some people hogged the spot below the famed arch for immeasurable amounts of time. So I got one of me at Delicate Arch. I’m sorry for the ugliness, can’t be helped.

It is a very photogenic spot!

On the way back rain threatened, which was nice and cooled everything. I headed back to Moab to do laundry and buy food for the next leg of the trip. I also stopped for a dinner, a real dinner. I’d been eating camp food for several days and wanted something substantial. Chinese fit the bill, and the food was good, but I was surprised at an extra charge on the bill which turned out to be rice. Can you believe that? Rice doesn’t come with the meal. Oh well, the food was at least good, and my belly was happy. The next morning I changed my oil before heading out, something that needed to be done, and I had the time. Overall, my stay in Moab was pleasant and productive. Not a bad place to spend a day.

I’m going to pick up where I left off last time at Needles, Canyonland National Park. It was getting close to sundown, and the shadows were long across the road. This is typically great lighting for photos, and I took advantage. It started with my bike. From one vantage point it looked like it was flying in the sky

Some people say it isn’t a good looking bike, but I beg to differ. Just around the corner from that I found what was to be an amazing view. The light was good, and the road perfect. Enjoy

and one with the bike

There are a bunch of these, and I can’t tell which is best. To check it out click this link.

I turned a corner on the way back to the campsite posted earlier and say this. Quite nice I’d say.

I was SO happy with how these turned out.

You’ll notice that I parked my bike in the middle of the road. There were no problems with that since there is no traffic there. It worked out nicely for me since this is a beautiful park, and I wanted to take a lot of photo. Needles is an amazing place for sure!

Sundown was unbelievable.

I highly recommend visiting Needles if you are ever in Southern Utah.

So this next day was one of the most adventurous and fun days of the trip. I had a blast riding about 60 miles of dirt roads over mountain passes and into the Needles section of Canyonlands National Park. What a great day! And the scenery was fantastic.

It started with cleaning up camp in Natural Bridges National Monument and riding over Bear Ears Pass east towards Blanding, Utah. Jokingly I say that the Mormons had to go through Blanding on their way to settle Utah, but that’s just a joke - or is it?

It was beautiful on top of the pass, and the road was pretty good for the most part.

I found as I went up in elevation the trees got much taller and nicer. Plus the temp dropped significantly. Of course that was temporary as it got hot again on the way down.

With the photos of the trees I would be hard pressed to distinguish between this place and where I grew up in East Texas, and the cows don’t make it any easier

Coming down the view changes as I could see mountains (real mountains formed by volcanoes rather than erosion) in the distance. I got great vistas of colored sediment and National “Forest.” Many places claim to be forests but have trees shorter than a human.

I did a couple things in Blanding including buy (but not install) a bolt for my crash guards. It had fallen out a while back, but I never got around to fixing it. I ate lunch and withdrew more cash for the next part of the trip. The town itself is nice, and as I found out later, it is more agricultural than other places near there because of the higher elevation and water recapture reservoir nearby. I wanted to do more dirt and so headed over and between the mountains to the north. This also helped prevent backtracking later on by going on a side road. It sure was nice although some of the most difficult riding I did the entire trip to CA. Here are a couple shots of the ride.

Once I hit pavement it was an easy ride to Needles but the scenery was too good to not stop, and I took too many pictures just coming into the park.

And the obligatory entrance photo, of which there will be many more coming up

I quickly picked a campsite and went hiking. The site and view from there were amazing. I was really pleased with my spot (the entire park only had a handful of campers), but the real pleasure came at sunset, and you’ll see why.

You can really see the Needles for which the park is named in that last one! Quite nice

My hike had some amazing views of the Needles, Island in the Sky, and Canyons between me and the Confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. I’ll post a few here, but you can see the rest in this link.

So the sights and hike were great, but something that made the day very special was the sunset and light. My ride back to the campsite involved as many photos as the hike, if you can believe that. They turned out great.

This has been a long post, so I’ll have to write more later about the sunset and ride back. It was fantastic though!

I made it! I’m in Pasadena and arrived safely albeit extremely tired. The last couple days have been quite entertaining. Since the last post I’ve visited Bryce Canyon, Zion, and Grand Canyon National Parks. I’ve met several cool people and rode some extremely hot days. It’s been a blast, and I’ll get to that in due time.

This is a short post about the day after Monument Valley. I was scared this day; the road I wanted to take had a big warning on the state map about being gravel and switchbacks. My fear wasn’t completely without cause, the road ended up being pretty much what it claimed although my bike can handle most things I throw at it.

The road is called Moki Dugway, and it climbs 1100 feet in just 2 short miles. Driving up to the cliff was impressive. From this vantage you cannot even see where the road takes you; it is just sheer.

quite a sight huh?

Well, the switchbacks weren’t that bad, and most had some pavement right at the worst point making it easier on the bike. One of my favorite views is this looking back down. You can start to get an appreciation for how steep the walls were and how high the climb was.

and looking out into space and Valley of the Gods

Very fun stretch of road.

I continued to Natural Bridges National Monument. This turned out to be a very beautiful park with canyons and some of the best natural bridges in the world. It would also be a great staging area from which to travel due to its central location near a crossroads.

The obligatory bike pic. I’ve got a bunch of these now!

I decided to do the long hike which took me to three bridges in ~10 miles. It would have been shorter except I forgot where I parked my bike and walked an extra mile and a half. Of course I was worn out by the end of the hike and super mad at myself for not planning better. It worked out fine though, and I was stronger because of it (literally and figuratively). The ranger said it wouldn’t rain on me and sent me to hike in a canyon. Well, it rained - a lot. Things were slippery, and I didn’t take many photos of that part. The hundreds of waterfalls were nice to see though.

Canyon from above

A natural bridge so big you could fly the space station through it with room to spare, and that is big. This one was my favorite. The others were nice but not as tall or not as scenic. You can kind of imagine a 1 pixel tall person standing on the ground below this.

The hike was as amazing as the rest of the day, and you can check out the photos here. Also, the rest of Moki Dugway here.

Hi Again, time for the really good stuff. Finally I was in Utah, where I want to spend the bulk of my vacation. I’m still here now actually with another day or two to spend before seeing the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas. The trip is getting better as I visited Capitol Reef Canyon yesterday and will see Bryce Canyon this afternoon.

I’ve learned a few things about myself this trip, or maybe I remembered a few things. Traveling is not easy, and it takes a lot of energy, especially if you are driving yourself around and sight seeing along the way. Motorcycles add to the load because you are exposed to the elements, meaning when it is hot out, you are hot; when it is windy, you are fighting a strong wind; when the road is especially bad or good (curvy roads fit this description, whereas traffic and bad asphalt fit the first) you have to concentrate that much more to protect yourself. All of this can tire you out, and then to go hiking and visit natural wonders, while exhilarating, makes one even more tired. Once my friend Mike from North Carolina asked me if I get tired of traveling. My reply went something like, “It does turn into something like work. Getting up every day and riding hundreds of miles is repetitive, but I love it.” That’s true, and I do love it.

Something I hadn’t known but was pleasantly surprised to learn is that even though things are farther apart out west, you can still see more by driving fewer miles. For instance, in southern Utah, there is a National Park, or Monument, or Recreation Area every 50-100 miles. You can stay in a new place every night and see quite a few things. I’m more used to riding 400-600 mile days and then going sight seeing. I like being here because I’m seeing a lot without riding very far. Everyone should visit southern Utah to see what I mean.

Now for the good stuff, and I do mean good. I can’t believe I’m so far ahead of this date. This was day 4 and 5 of the trip, but I’ve been do half a dozen places since then. Being behind like this isn’t such a bad thing. I tend to only remember what I liked about a place and forget the bad things like road construction or the jerk that wouldn’t pull over even though he was going half the speed limit on a road with no passing lane. I forget most of those things anyway

Finally I’m in Utah! And the scenery gets really good from here. My first stop would be Monument Valley. I was reminded that Forrest Gump ran along the road there in the movie, and I wanted to see where he was. Great choice. 5 years ago I had ridden out here but skipped it for 4-corners and a more southerly route. What a bad choice that was! Before I got to Monument Valley I found myself in a wonderfully scenic part of the world that took me through Bluff, Valley of the Gods and Mexican Hat. This was an added bonus. I remember being really impressed with the geology, and you’ll see why.

And then I saw it! From a distance was Monument Valley. My heart was racing; just a few more miles and I’d be there!

But then there was a sign for Valley of the Gods, and the road was unpaved - one of my other goals was to learn more dirt and gravel riding. This was the perfect road for that and for its quality. And the decision to turn came easily.

Valley of the Gods

Since I always take pictures of the bike, I threw one in of myself this time

Here is a link to more of that ride.  Too many photos to post here.

And a couple more shots of the awesome geology and a new (temporary) favorite of my bike

For the next 20 miles this was my view

And then I was there! The view was amazing, and the image of Forrest Gump running there appealed to me.

I asked a Frenchman (very common sight in Utah) to take this picture. He didn’t understand, so I took the same picture of him and asked for a replication.

After checking in at the hotel I took a ride to the Indian Reservation that contained the “Monuments” and awaited sunset.

And all the photos from that ride.

The day started late.  I finished packing, cleaning, planning, and then took a nap.  No point leaving tired.  After filling the tank and running an errand I snapped the obligatory trip start odometer reading.  And I got one of the bike.  A woman gave me a hard time for taking a picture of my bike in an REI parking lot then gave me advice on where to go on the trip.  It didn’t matter that her recommendation would take me about 500 miles north of where I told her I was going.

About 60 miles into the trip I slow down for a stoplight and hear an unfamiliar rattle. In fact, any rattle on this bike is unfamiliar. Not thinking much of it I passed an Ace Hardware. I’d already been planning a stop at Target to pick up the things I forgot: ear plugs, swim shorts… A side of the road stop revealed a loose chain guard, and I turned back to pick up the required hardware. Barely an hour out of town and already having mechanical failure! Easy fix though, and I picked up the ear plugs and sunglasses to make the trip go easier.

The temperature wasn’t bad; it reached the low 90s before clouds set in. The rest of the day was shady and breezy making things quite pleasant. I rolled on and on, only stopping for a hamburger and a short nap about 30 minutes later. Things went smoothly until I saw this.

and then a few more

and then a few hundred, then thousand more. Evidently I had ridden into the largest windfarm in Texas, no in the US, no, in the world! Us Texans have to do things BIG!!! From my vantage I could see a few hundred windmills, but that was just over one little rise.  I measured the distance from the first sighting to the last, and it was over 15 miles.  On both sides of the road for as far as I could see were windmills.  A conservative estimate would be 2000-3000, but that’s surely a low number.  The windmills went on for miles beyond what I could see, and probably more likely were there 10,000 than 3,000.  Pretty impressive, but that wasn’t all.

and then I met the definition of juxtaposition. In case you don’t know what that means, just look at these images

I had tried to take new roads today. Going north and west usually lends itself to the same old highways, but that gets boring, and my map of highlighted roads never fills out that way. So I took some new roads and was surely pleased. I also avoided the interstate except for an 8 mile stretch that saved me about 30 minutes. Stopping for gas I found a gas station with an inordinate amount of pretty girls. That’s when I realized it was time to call some people and take a break from riding.

Back on the road north I found even more windmills, but not as dense as before and only on one side of the road. Still, the impression one gets when riding through there is that these people are serious about wind energy.

Finally the topography changed, and the flat plains gave way to colorful mesas covered in brush or flowers. It was a sign that the Llano Estacado was ahead. The Llano is about 900 feet above the surrounding plains, and for the most part smells like crude oil. It is also the home of Lubbock, Texas and the Texas Tech Red Raiders. I had a hard time not throwing the horns \m/ as I passed the TT signs.

Here are some mesas to get an idea of what it’s like riding up to the Llano

Notice in the last one how the clouds break near the topographic change. Pretty interesting, and seen better here on the slope up to the Llano near Post, Texas

Finally I arrived in Lubbock and quickly found a hotel with a pool and hot breakfast. Here I’m relaxing thinking back on a nice day riding in the Texas panhandle and looking forward to New Mexico Mountains.

Here’s a link to all the photos and a slideshow if you want.

and for those of you who don’t ride motorcycles, a view of the cockpit and what you might see if you take the opportunity to ride.

The first is looking down, the second what I actually see while riding.

It takes me too long to do this stuff!  I want to finish this up so I can post pictures from Pompeii and the Vatican.

After lunch I continued my walk around the city, and without a map I soon found myself away from the exciting stuff, but thankfully there is plenty to see there.  From the Colosseum I unknowingly headed toward the Roman Forum. On my way I passed some nice things.

The city was littered with these things, viaducts? aquaducts?

That last one has an arch structure coming out of a house!? And the pine trees you see there have somehow been cultivated to look like that. Think giant Bonsai.

My walk took me through a famous church, San Clemente. It was old and beautiful as you can imagine. I didn’t take any photos in there out of respect (well actually it was too dark :), normally I would). So here’s a google image search if you want to see what it looks like.

And since my hotel was so close I found myself back at the Colosseum.

Jack, my boss and advisor, and I met up with some colleagues at a restaurant below our hotel, did I mention there were 4 on that plaza? These guys are from Colorado, and one is the head of the project on the American side. I think this was the cheapest meal I ate there, probably $40 per person or so.

After dinner Jack and I walked in a direction I hadn’t yet gone. I especially liked the view of the Victor Emanuel Monument.

That first one is nice. We walked for a while and found ourselves back at the Colosseum (right by the hotel still). It made for some nice night shots.

Here’s one with the two of us although smeared because I forgot the flash

By then I my feet hurt, and I was tired from jetlag and the long day. The next day was neat, my lunch spot even older than today.

As always I’ll start with the trip there.  It began slow: we took off late due to congestion on the runway.  The skys were clear though, and we even flew over Nacogdoches. In the second image you may be able to understand why I’m not a big fan of chickens. These things were all over East Texas, and if the wind blew your way it might make you want to hold your breath. Thankfully I didn’t live near any (but my dad did), so I didn’t have to smell them very often. enough of that!

Dinner on the plane was great. It started off with my own bottle of wine and ended up with some fine French food. I had lamb, but they had other options. My dinner reading was a book about the 17th century artist Bernini who holds some sort of record for most sculptures in Rome or something like that. His work is amazing, and I made it a point to see some (you’ll get the pictures later)

Dinner was right before we flew over Manhattan. What a sight! The Dutch guy sitting beside me couldn’t get his camera out fast enough, so I shared the ok quality photos I took with him.

The rest of the flight wasn’t special except for breakfast. We landed in Paris with not enough time for me to catch my flight. I did catch it, but I had to find an alternate route through immigration. The one that led to my next terminal had >500 people, and I had 15 minutes. Such is the way in CDG, and on the return trip it was just as hairy.

Italy from the sky is beautiful. It was overcast, but I got photos upon descent that turned out pretty well.
The airport isn’t actually in Rome, so I have no photos of Rome from above.

After making my way to the hotel (I made it to the right street but the wrong hotel - that happened more than once) I stopped at a store across the way to get some cheese, bread, and olives to make lunch. But first I snapped a couple shots from the Hotel. It overlooked a small piazza with 5 restaurants and a couple of convenience stores selling cigarettes and soda. You can get cigarettes everywhere there, and even tough I was on the 3rd floor I could smell the smoke at night wafting up into my open window.

I took my bag of food for a walk. The sights in Rome are very easy to find. Down the street from my hotel was a view of the Roman Forum which I’ll show in another post. I walked along a wall showing the extent of the Roman Empire through time. That was cool.

And along the way I saw countless old buildings still with the architecture from centuries ago.

Then finally (after a <10 minute walk) I reached my destination! The Colosseum! Before walking up to it I stopped for lunch on a wall to admire the structure and watch people walk by. This was cool!

I enjoyed the food (olives were delicious) and made my way up to this historic building. It is really big. And you can see how much work was put into making it. Remember they didn’t have the same building materials or heavy equipment we do not. This was cut and moved by hand.

I took a lot of pictures there. Some of which turned out pretty well. I’ll show a few

And of course I had to take one of myself I carried a tripod with me for moments like this (and night pictures). The one I had then was brand new; this was my first time to use it. Well, the leg broke on that first try. Needless to say I returned it once I got home.

But the picture still turned out okay.

There are a few more pictures from that walk, and you are invited to see them all here. Also, pictures of the flight if you are interested.

They are coming.  Actually I’ve got some uploaded already. The trick is finding time to sort them and delete the bad/redundant ones - which is going slowly.  I took a lot of pictures.

For now I’ll link to what is available, but an actual post with captions and stories is coming soon for each.

Here you should have access to 3 folders, one of the flight, one of having lunch under the colloseum and another of a walk I took the first night.

Actually, I head home tomorrow morning early.  It’s been a great week, and I’m really glad I came.  The sights were many, and the food and wine were primo.  This is an amazing place, and I can’t wait to get the photos together and tell some stories.

Rome Express coming soon.

So here’s a tid bit, more to come I promise.

Pictures from trip

The little boy is Alex, the son of my good buddy Trev.

The trip was about 3080 miles all told, and it took from Thursday afternoon to Thursday afternoon.  I rode through Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Arkansas.  Before returning through LA and TX again.  It was a blast, and the bike handled quite well.  I only had one day of rain, and by afternoon it was hot and sunny just like you’d expect for the south in summer.

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edit to add some things.  It’s been almost 2 months since that trip, and now I wish I had stayed a little longer.  My summer flew by, and this is the best memory I have from it.  Getting on a motorcycle and riding that far is always an adventure, and I look forward to next time.  There ain’t nothing like it.

Here are a couple of  pictures, check out the album if you want to see more.

That’s me* overlooking a horse farm in Central KY.  They must have had a few hundred acres of perfectly manicured grass.  In the background you can see a horse stable that’s probably worth several times my house.  And across the street (with many more down the road)  was another horse farm just as beautiful.  What a place!

(*Please ignore the helmet hair, it’s a part of riding a motorcycle)

And one of my good buddy Trev at the same spot.  I’ve gone to KY numerous times now always to see him and ride in those wonderful mountains.  If Texas wasn’t so great I’d move there.

Switzerland, as you have probably heard, is a beautiful country.  They are famous for chocolate, cheese, mountains, and money.  All of those things they have and of which they are proud.  There is no place on earth where you can ride a train while sipping fine wine, overlook fine vineyards, and find time to enjoy the outstanding scenery.  New Zealand is the only place that rivals Switzerland for beauty, but to go there is quite a trip.  My last time in Switzerland was but brief.  We drove through on a marathon passport stamp run in an attempt to cross 4 countries in one day and collect stamps from each.  Successful as we were we missed the finer points of this fantastic land such as the food and ladies.  No matter how fast you ride, drive, fly, or train you cannot miss the landscape.  It will not escape you.

The Swiss are proud people: proud of what they have, proud of their place in the world, and most of all proud of themselves.  And you would be too if you were raised there.  It is worthy of all that pride.
On this recent trip I flew into Geneva on recommendation from a website that said the lake and mountains there made for a wonderful landing, and for that I am appreciative.  Most people fly to Zurich, which is a nice town in itself, but there is little to see there except the rumbling metropolis of a modern European city.  Trains run everywhere, people walking, dogs on leashes, and little police cars with tinny sirens.  Geneva has those qualities too, but it is a much smaller city, more quiet and peacefuller.  I think the people there may be nicer too.  They speak French in Geneva, much to my dismay.  I’ve always known that there are 4 official languages in CH: German, French, Italian, and Romanish, of which the first three dominate.  English is an unofficial language, and most people there, except the foriegners applying for Swiss citizenship, speak quite well.  My French is less than un peu, and I had to get by on English.  That was fine except when I wanted to order Turkish food or ask for directions.  Mostly though I kept to myself while observing the sights.

Geneva may be the most beautiful city on earth, may be, but I plan to seek cities more beautiful.  Hopefully it will be a long and arduous task that requires a long lifetime of searching.  Flying into Geneva is a treat that everyone should enjoy.  Besides the perfectly clear, calm, blue lake the city itself is nice to see from above, and the crown jewel, Mt Blanc, is there majestically in the distance.  Mont Blanc is of course named for the year round white cap that covers the highest peak in Europe and can be seen for hundreds of miles.  The combination of beauty in one vista there can trump most we’ll ever see in our daily lives, and yet people live there.  That brings me to another point.  The Swiss take their lot in life for granted.  In fact they’re not satisfied living in a beautiful place where everything is taken care of for them.  They don’t find the happiness in a life that rises them above the daily struggle most people in the world experience.  There are few wants that aren’t met, and boredom reigns supreme.  Odd isn’t it, that a country that seems so perfect from the outside can be so boring to those within?  My impression from personal observations and conversations with others is that the Swiss want out.  They look for excuses to go to the big city.  Meanwhile the entire rest of the world wants that picture perfect cottage overlooking the garden and lake just beneath the mountains.

So Geneva, as beautiful as it is, may be as slow a city as exists on earth.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but a town that quits selling beer at 9PM, even before dark that far north, and has fewer night clubs than my hometown of 300 people, cannot ever be exciting.  Excitement for locals and tourists alike is taking the ferry across the lake and watching the sailboats lazily blow along.  If you’ve got a good pair of walking shoes 2 days is plenty to see all of Geneva and even be ready to leave.  So from there I took the train towards Bern.  Some trains go straight through, but the one I took stopped in Lausanne for a connection, and I’m glad it did.  Lausanne is another town that’s bursting with beauty.  I didn’t stay long enough to gauge the night life, but I imagine it’s not much better.  A smaller college town that looks directly at the mountains across the same lake as Geneva, Lausanne is the picture perfect place to live.  No one would ever deny that.  A friend of mine is moving there, and I can’t wait to visit.

Something to note about CH is that it is expensive.  And that goes for anyone visiting.  One night in Bern our group dropped over 1200 USD on a meal.  Yep, more than one thousand two hundred dollars on dinner.  Sure it was a nice restaurant with good food, expensive wine, and a great view.  Sure we were in Switzerland and our meal was paid for by the institute hosting the workshop/conference.  Sure.  But seriously!  Life ain’t quite that good for me yet.  I am quite happy with where things are going and what I’m doing, but the money isn’t there yet.  That’s just one example of how expensive things are.  The 7 dollar half pint beers and 15 dollar glasses of bourbon are another indication.

Lausanne was a quick stop.  I met a nice couple there that showed me around a little.  We talked and saw some sights.  Before long I was back on the rail again headed to Bern.  Now this may surprise you, it sure surprised me: for all the beauty that a place can have, Geneva was lacking in the lady department.  The girls were nice there, but I wasn’t exactly jumping out of my pants to meet them.  Bern was a different story; even before leaving the train station I noticed the number of attractive females.  This was going to be a great place!  While there I did meet a nice girl that accepted my offer of a drink.  She had a boyfriend but was waiting for him and decided one wouldn’t hurt.  She was very nice and spoke in her best German for me, (Swiss German is quite incomprehensible, even to Germans).  We talked as long as she could before exchanging emails.  I imagine I’ll never hear from her again, but it was a nice conversation nonetheless.  Bern, beyond the feminine beauties, was a nice town itself.  Situated not far from the mountains, the main city lies on a penninsula in a bend in the Aare river.  The river is hundreds of feet below city level, and only brave hikers can make the long staircases down to the water.  We did, but it was to find the perfect restaurant you read about earlier.

Bern, named after the bears which no longer inhabit that region, is the small capital city of Switzerland located somewhere near the center of the country.  It has a long history and nice architecture even if most of the buildings are the same color.  Parliament and soccer keep the people happy there while good chocolate, great wine, and French food keep them well fed.  One thing to note is that the people there are all in good shape.  If you see a heavy person you should probably address them with an American accent because that’s probably where they come from.  So all in all it’s a nice place, and the people are friendly.  We enjoyed 3 nights there perusing the town and local eateries with great views, pictures from some of which are posted below.  Our conference went amazingly well, and I learned so much from the other scientists.  It was a great trip and experience, and hopefully I’ll get to do it again.  Thanks for reading.

Pictures I shared with other conference people.

And those not yet seen, lots though

Motorcycling isn’t always easy. In fact is rarely is.  Here is one of my more trying times in extreme conditions for my mother’s reading pleasure.
Once, early on in my motorcycle life I rode up to Galesburg, Illinois as part of a rolling rally.  Members and some non-members of IntruderAlert passed a mascot from one to the next that had been all around the country.  I had picked up Erv, a small carved wooden creature, from Tighedog and was carrying it up north to Fuzzy in Iowa.  Erv had been around as they say and met a lot of people.  They would pose him on the beach, or in a cave or anywhere.  The main idea was for people to meet and give them an excuse to ride their bikes.

Fuzzy and his wife Linda had agreed to meet me at the train museum/station in Galesburg for our obligatory “hand-off photo” and then we chatted over a Mexican lunch.  The food and conversation were both good, and before long it was time we all head home. My ride was a little longer than theirs; I had already ridden over 200 miles and had to go back.  They were just across the state line and Mississippi river in Muscatine.  I left Erv in their charge with a promise, and a signature, saying they would pass him on to the next carrier further north in Wisconsin.  Erv was to eventually make it to Asheville, North Carolina for the motorcycle rally, but first he had to pass through Canada and see some of our more outspoken members.

My trip had already taken me through Springfield and Peoria two towns famous for very different people: one for Abraham Lincoln and the other for Richard Pryor.  I guess there might have been some commonality after all.  The plan to get home was just the opposite except to not bypass Peoria and instead drive right through the town, which I did.  It is a neat town set on a river which divides the east from the west and the poor from the not poor.  I stopped there for something that would later come in very handy: a rubber o-ring.  Why you might ask.  Well, earlier in passing I had heard of a way to lock the throttle that would allow me to take my right hand off of the bike to rest.  And it worked quite well…. For about 5 minutes.  I was so busy playing with my new toy that it fell off the bike, and I had to wait several weeks before trying again.  All this was to my dismay; with still 160+ miles to go it had already been a long day and promised to be much longer.

Galesburg was properly named being just a little south and west of Chicago. And since gale is defined as a very strong wind any would be traveler must be prepared.  At times the wind can be quite ferocious there.  In the morning it hadn’t been so bad, but by the afternoon it was strong enough to make someone want to stay in.

I remember that day being the windiest day of my life.  Constant head and cross winds blew me around and sometimes the combination would take me by surprise.  Already riding at an angle to the ground from the steady stream of air passing from my right, gusts of wind I can only assume near 40mph knocked me off of my track and caused me to move near the other lane.  Then it would switch to a headwind and blow the 70+40mph directly at my chest causing my hands to grow weak from the strain and helmet to beat around.  It took full strength just to hold on to the bike, and times like that make one tired.  The long stretch of interstate highway eventually wore down, but the wind never let up.  My gas mileage dropped dismally, and I found myself enjoying the rest each time the bike needed to be filled.  It was a long day, and the 425 total miles wore on me.  Eventually I made it home, but if you had asked me to do anything I wouldn’t have even had the energy to argue.

What a terrible day.

It was December 15th 2002 and Sharon and I were driving down to San Antonio for a friend of mine’s wedding. Gas had been a little higher than normal, but fluctuations always seemed to make it higher. That and it was the most I had ever paid for gas. Isn’t December supposed to have lower gas prices? Wasn’t it just $1.19 earlier that year?

We pulled in to the Shell station on the southbound lane of I-35 not far from San Marcos. I had stopped at that gas station before and knew it had clean bathrooms and my flavor of Gatorade. Before stopping Sharon noticed the price. We contemplated going to the next station and looking for a better price. I even stopped the car to turn around, but it wasn’t enough, and the bathroom was calling.

After filling the tank at record cost something hit me; things were going wrong. Maybe it was the influx of troops in the middle east, maybe it was higher than demand (unlikely in December). Whatever it was life was about to get much more expensive.

I hadn’t even bought my motorcycle yet, but it would soon come after.

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$3.00 Gas!!!

What a terrible day.

It was mid July 2005. I had ridden from Maine to California in just a few weeks time, and during that summer I was very aware of rising gas prices. When I left St. Louis in early June for a trip to visit the Americade Motorcycle rally gas was around $2.20, and it was going to be an expensive trip.

Just a few weeks later I was in Yosemite National Park, 80 miles from the nearest gas station, and as you know my bike doesn’t go 160 miles on a tank. The park service had a station at the bottom of Yosemite Valley for just that instance. I pulled into the station no really knowing what to expect but grateful that there was gas for me to keep riding. $3.009 x2 gallons later I had filled my tank at the most expensive place in the world. At least I was leaving California and would never have to pay $3.00 again. What an expensive day. At least I was in one of the most beautiful places in the world.

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$3.49 Gas!!!

What a terrible day

Yesterday, April 26th 2008 I filled my truck. It cost me $47. I wasn’t on empty, but rising fuel costs pressured me to buying early. Gas had gone up 22 cents in just one week, and with summer coming I expect it to continue in that direction.

I only drive my truck when Stephanie needs me to. She will ride the bike, but often we have to carry something larger than what can fit in a saddlebag, and today it was hailing as I prepared for work.

Hail won’t stop me now; I rode my bike every day in January and February. I can ride it now. At 50mpg the KLR gets better mileage than my truck by about 30 in the city and still better than the intruder by 20. The intruder is in desperate need of maintenance, but I don’t ever expect it to get 40mpg again. She’s been used and abused. She’s still gorgeous though, and we take her for a ride when we’re 2 up.

This summer there is no big road trip for me. I’ve got a new job and responsibilities. Plus now that I am paying back my student loans there is no extra money at the end of the month. At least the bike will be paid off before August is up. Then I can start saving for a trip in 2009 - maybe.

This and the post next week describe two days of travel that made an impact on me. Again I was alone but this time meeting friends along the way. It takes us from western Nevada to north West California and then Portland, Oregon. Reliving these days makes me even tired thinking about them, but the scenery I saw makes me want to go back some day and spend some more time just enjoying the sights.

It started in Nevada. I awoke at Hack’s place in Fallon, and the day proceeded from there. The actual distance wasn’t as great as some other days, but the amount of traveling filled all the hours till past sundown. Our goodbyes were a little sad; hack and I had become friends on the message board, and it was a real reunion the first time we met. Our two days together are best told in another story, for this one we’re headed north and west.

After leaving hack’s I headed west to Carson City and Lake Tahoe. The change is soon dramatic as one points the bike away from the morning sun on Hwy 50, a highway that spans the entire country and even passes through O’Fallon, Illinois, my at the time home. First is desert as much of Nevada; Fallon is considered an oasis with some agriculture, and then in the distance mountains can be seen. On those mountains are windy roads and trees - quite the change from the rest of the state. I was excited to see those two towns having of course heard of them my entire life. Carson City wasn’t much change from the high desert further east, but the road made great sweeping curves of double lanes, easy travel for a motorcycle not in too big of a hurry. Cars fell behind as my power to weight ratio dominated; the bike easily maintained the speed limit without so much as breaking a sweat.

Upon arriving in Tahoe I realized why the city is such a famous place. No where in all my travels had I seen a lake so still, so beautiful. There was snow on top of the mountains; green tree lined shores, and clear blue water that ran for as far as one can see. A tour bus of elderly gamblers led me to an exquisite overlook nice enough to snap a few photos. I even remember dodging the sight of everyone to go talk to nature. Every where you turned there was the wonder of natural beauty. Only once back on the road did I see the Casinos and city that make this local famous. Alas, there was no time to stay, and I had already won money in Vegas just over a week before, so ride on. Before the lake was out of sight the sign for entering California was once again at my back, and I made the long meandering track down the west side of the Sierras.

If you’ve ever been there you’ll most likely remember that this area of the country carries a smell with it, one that is very distinct. The Red Woods I think put out an aroma that can only be described as that of artichoke, although people before have disagreed with me. Anyway, I enjoyed the smell, and it reminded me how close I was to nature and how far away from home. Only California smells like that. Not knowing exactly where I was headed, and without too much care, I followed the steady path downhill till a sign locating Folsom County, California piqued my attention. A quick glance at the map said that an ess shaped road would lead me in a favorable direction through valleys and past the prison of lore. For the first time that day I was headed north and passing through expensive countryside still colored from the leaves of winter past.

The prison didn’t come to fruition. I was on the wrong windy road and missed in entirely. That letdown and the local traffic humbled my speed to a moderate pace unlike that of the mountain passes earlier. Eventually the road left me off at an interstate, and I was back traveling again westerly. Another member of IntruderAlert and his brother were expecting me, and after a quick call to notify them of my position I was back on the road. The three of us and some friends of theirs met up for a hamburger, and we chatted like people that had known each other for a long time.

Mike, or Cali-Rider at most people know him was a nice guy and fun to talk to. After a too short break he offered to accompany me north and show me the ways around big highway riding. Now we were deep into Central Valley where the roads were flat and straight, but there were still sights to see, and I recall one large hill coming from no where protruding well above the terrain. Mike rode as far as he could and wished me a safe journey before turning around. I was really happy to meet him, and his big grin as he rode that day is still burned into my memory. With the warm feeling of making a new friend I once again was the solo rider on a journey to who knows where. My only plan was to go see the coastal Red Woods, the tallest trees in the world. Little did I know how far the ride would be.

The Central Valley of California is quite an odd place. From within you can see both sides surrounded by mountains. On the west is the coastal range, blocking all the oceanic rain and cool air from blowing over, and on the east the Sierras, an impressive range with snowy tops and grand changes in elevation. The Valley itself is very flat, very dry, and very hot. Dust blows all around you, and only places well irrigated grow crops - of course, however, they are some of the best crops in the world. After some driving one might see in the distance not one, but two, very large shield volcanoes, ones that tower above anything else visible. These giants reach heights of 14000 feet and more and can be seen from a long way away. It was a strange sensation to see glaciers, some just to my right, and others straight ahead a hundred miles or so, while I was bathing in 100+ degree heat.

Finally it was a rest break to refill the bike and my hydration. I took longer than normal expecting to be not far from my destination and already exhausted from the heat and miles. The girl at the counter had no idea where Eureka, Ca was, and estimated that the coast was only 45 minutes away. Good news to me. Someone else working there helped me explain that Eureka was the largest city on the coast in the North West, and he told me it was really an hour away. This is when I realize, learned rather, that people in California have absolutely no sense of time, distance, nor velocity. This was the third time I was duped by locals with no knowledge of their surroundings. Once earlier I had asked a woman how far it was to San Francisco, and she said a few hours, but the smell of the city was blowing past her nose. Another time cost me too when the person that should know didn’t. Between the girl and the man at this gas station they could have added their estimated times and doubled it, and they might have been close. On the map it was hard to tell, this part of California isn’t too wide, and I was already halfway across. But looks can be and often are deceiving; the road that headed west from Redding, the town I was just south of, was completely curves, the entire way. So a road that looked like 45 miles might have ended up more like 100, and in fact it was a lot more.

I wound my way through the mountains, once again taken back by their beauty. Forests and mountains both exist in Texas, but not at the same time. The combination always draws my attention and envy.  The scenery and overlooks could draw a person to spend a lifetime in that part of the world, but as always I was just a visitor passing through. Towards the bottom of my reserve tank I began to worry. The next town was listed as farther away than I expected to be able to make, and I stopped to ask for help. A couple on a motorcycle enjoying a view of the river running past couldn’t spare any fuel but said there was indeed a gas station in the direction I was headed - if I could only make it. And make it I did, but just barely; my small Intruder gas tank made it once again; it had never left me stranded, even though it was mighty close an occasion or two before.

The day was nearly all behind me now, and I still hadn’t made Eureka or even the coast. I really wanted to catch one more pacific sunset, and only the longest days in summer could have made that happen. It was mid July now, and even as the sun got low on the horizon I wished for more daylight. Finally I felt the cool moist air only an ocean can bring, and I debated finding a campsite or a hotel in town. Eureka was south of where I wanted to be but not by much. I still don’t know why, but I chose the hotel, and learned a hard lesson about reservations. Upon arriving I found out that a Corvette convention was in town and all the hotel rooms were booked. Only one room on a dirty motel was available, and it was more than I wanted to pay. So heading north with the last throws of daylight I cursed myself for being to lackadaisical and debated what to do next. Supposedly there were some cabins not far in my direction, if only I could make it.

Finally I did, but had they been any farther only my headlight would have given clue of their existence. I rolled in, this time willing to pay anything for a bed. I didn’t even really get a good look at where I was. All I knew was that the day had taken its toll, and I was soon to be in bed. There was no phone in my room, and I only had tuna and crackers to eat, so it wasn’t the luxury I had seen in Vegas not even the wonders of camping in the Grand Canyon or they big black sky of the Petrified Forest. It was just a small room without a phone, and I had lost my cell just days before - not that there would have been a signal anyway. Tired beyond belief I found a pay phone in the bar and shouted over the noise to Sharon where I was and that everything was ok. If I had a beer that night I don’t remember, and it would not have helped me sleep any better. It may have been the second longest travel day of my life; only the drive from Vermont to Columbus, OH lasted longer. The miles put it about 10th place, but sheer time wears more than distance. Even the roughness of a cheap comforter and springy bed couldn’t keep me awake. The next thing I knew it was morning.

Come back next week for the continuation and even a travel mishap that never escapes the memory.