UTAH

I had one heck of a time with the Freako's of Rico, but it was time to do this and get back on the road. After parting ways with Craig and Brian in Telluride, it felt good to be back in the saddle with no expectations of what's around the bend.

From Telluride, I had to back track 12 miles to Placerville, which I came through last week on the way to the Rico hot springs. At Placerville I hung a right staying on 145. From here, the landscape changed, not the mountains, but the greenery, seemed to dry up a bit and a bit more arid. I was climbing towards Norwood, the ascension was steady and steep with 15-20mph switchbacks. When I crested, I found myself in what I would refer to as farm and ranch land. I made Norwood where Gillian of the 70/30 pair resided, I passed the deli she worked at but it was closed, thinking I would stop in and say hey. I didn't bother stopping in the town.

I continued west to Redvale and onto Naturia where I hit 90 that would take me into Utah. The road turned into the Paradox Scenic Byway, a beautiful road carving through what would be turning into large sandstone bluffs and canyons from the Rockies. This is what motorcycle traveling is, visually seeing and the reality of being one with the road, atmosphere and environment. Emersion. It's great to see how this land changes from one terrain to the next, just like that.

It was approaching 5pm when I entered Utah, meaning it was time to look for a spot to squat. Being just south of the Stacey-LaSal NF, it was just what I was looking for. I cruised on a bit a found a 2 mile dirt road on the right which dumped me into the Forest Land. I made a left heading towards La Sal summit, a 6 mile traverse that had me climbing in elevation on the somewhat sandy dirt road where I came across a water hazard that was handled with ease about half way up. I kept climbing, Bike handling herself well when we come to, Spirit Lake, this place would be good as any for slumber. I check out the spot, no one around, a pit toilet and a blocked primitive path taking one behind the small lake. I took Bike around the fence and found a spot and tucked in behind a tree. I put up the shelter under the tree and got a fire going to cook some macaroni and enjoy the mountain air once more. Food made and ate, macaroni with Sriracha sauce, pepper flakes and crackers. Good eating. I hit the cot and start to read a bit but found myself waking up a bit later with the moon in my eyes. I step out, empty the bladder, step back in, close the fly and drift back into a sleep that was cozy and rejuvenating. I did wake once, hearing a sound that made me think a tree was falling as there was a good number of trees toppled over. With the sound gone and no crash, I figured it may have been a bear tumbling out or up a tree, who knows, never will, and I closed my eyes.

I woke to a beautiful morning. Clear Sky and mild temps. I geared up, ate a tart and left my temporary abode and continued on the road to the summit as it should be just up the road. I was at the summit trail maybe within 1 mile. I didn't feel like hiking so I captured a moment in time and headed back down the mountain road and headed west then north to Moab, UT.

I made Moab in no time as it was only 30 miles or so north up 191 off of 46 at La Sal Jct. I needed some fuel, loose tobacco and a coffee. I found all 3 and paused a moment at Ronald's House where I touched base with the folks and let them know I was alive and well. After I finished my coffee and checking the net, I left town, didn't look like anything or one was happening, tourist stuff. I made a b-line for Arches NP, just north of town. I found the NP no problem, went through the gate, filled up my half gallon water bottle and dumpster dived for 3 more vessels to fill up so I have almost a gallon of water with me, seeing that I'm back in the desert. A gallon is a must, and whether you like it or not, you find yourself drinking it all up.

Main stop in Arches was to locate Edward Abbey's spot of residence, when he was seasonal ranger and wrote Desert Solitaire in the mid-late 50's. I was told by Desert Dave and the rangers that it was on the old entrance road and it probably resided where the maintenance grounds currently are. With my destination in place, I meandered the park, taking in the majestic, beautiful and strange sights of this strange land of rock. Everywhere, there was rock in the most peculiar shapes and sizes, jutting from the ground and with large windows carved through them. It's cool to think that this was once a sea, mud plains, another sea, more mud plains and huge sand dunes, which started millions and millions of years ago, carved by water blown by wind and time, here we are granted this special one of a kind place.

I find myself at Balanced Rock, I see the old road on the left which I take and pass the maintenance area. I loop back and park Bike where I start investigating, looking for signs of where a trailer from the late 50's may have sat. Not finding anything, I wonder about the tree, Abbey had the bell and fabric hanging, it could have been any of these. Though not finding anything, I see why Abbey found this to be a special place, I could feel it. I went over and found a sandstone that would work out perfectly where I carved 'Ed Abbey', as homage to a layman naturalist who got and understood what we have.

I then took a mile or so walk through the Windows section, large walls where water, temperature and gravity have carved gigantic 'windows' into the walls. It's something worth seeing. Upon the sight, I too, like Abbey, was wondering when one of these carvings would have enough of time, and crumble to the ground. That would be something to see, but I hope it will happen when no one is around. Where I parked at the windows section was next to 2 newer BMW GS's. When I got back to the bike, the riders were there and we introduced ourselves, them being Yusaf (???) and Vladimir, from Chicago by way of Poland. Good guys and we talked for a good bit, they dug Bike and asked when I washed her, told me of their travels, losing a top box and gear on the highway and having it blown apart from repetitive run overs from traffic. We part ways with the glad hand and carried on to the next spot, Delicate Arch. Not feeling up to a couple mile hike as it was getting evening, I took a mile hike to view the arch from a distance. Not thinking the hike was going to be a mile, I left on the leather bibs and humped up the hill cussing under my breath from the weight and heat of the leather. All good or course.

Back at Bike I find my 2 new friends from Chicago parked next to us. They grilled me on the hike, my camping arrangements and set up as they have been paying to sleep. Something just not right about that when in a tent. Goofy if you ask me. I let them in on the free camping in Forest Land and BLM, which is everywhere out here. We say our goodbyes again and I head out for the end of the road where I take a short hike at Devil's Garden to view some more 'windows'. After 45 minutes I get back to Bike, fill up the water vessels and head for the ranger station where I ask for the nearest Forest road or BLM road. Telling them I'm going towards Canyonland, the pretty ranger with gauged ears tells me the road, 313, going into Canyonland is all BLM, therefore I'm set and good to go.

I travel the short distance to 313, I see a gas station/camp ground on the right where I pull in and get a couple of tall boys for the night. When I enter the station, a guy asks what year the Beemer is and find out he has a /6.  We talk bikes for a moment, I get my drink and head outside where he's really giving Bike the one over. We introduce ourselves, him going by Chrise, and find out he's the manager of the grounds, in his 40th year and living in a small RV with his girlfriend Stace and Tom Dog the poodle. We talk for a good half hour, it's getting dusk and Chrise tells me to get on my way. Before I leave, we make plans to get together tomorrow evening after I get back from Canyonlands and he from Moab. Another local hook up! He told me I could sleep in their camper, take a shower, do some laundry and have some wine with him and Stace. Great stuff and the road treats us well once again!

I depart the station, hit up 313 and go maybe 10 miles where I find a dirt road leading off to the right. The road is dirt, sand, and sandstone, and Sun is right in my eyes about to crash with the horizon. The dirt is fine, the sand a bit squirrelly and the sandstone no problem. I go down 2 miles, find an overlook that will host Sunset, set up camp in the loose ground, cook another dinner of macaroni, Sriracha and crackers, crack open a tall boy and catch up on the Rico bit of the journal. After a couple hours, I'm done writing for the night and step out to look at the stars that were showering me from above. Zach got me a star chart which I finally got to use. It's kinda sparse, the chart, as it only concentrates on the obvious constellations, but I was finding myself picking out a few. I should know this by now, but I've always just enjoyed the sight of stars, not worried about the man given names that will disappear when we're gone and the stars still reside.

I hit bed around 11pm or so, and slept well, waking at 7, then at 8 when I finally got up and started some corn beef hash on the propane cooker. I talk to Desert Dave for a moment, recapping, asking and answering questions. I get an invite back to Phoenix which I will take him and Kerrilyn up on.

I take my time, eat the hash, dig a cat hole, break camp, gear up and head back the  2 miles to 313 and hang a right taking me towards Canyonland NP which was 15 miles further south. I get to the gate around noonish, hit up the visitor center where I replenish my water supply and open up my camera to blow out whatever is hindering the lens. I take my time as I have 6 hours till I meet Chrise and Stace back at their spot. I watch a film on the Canyonlands, look at dried packaged growth from the area, look at the map 1 too many times and just be. I depart the visitors center around 1pm and head south. Shafer Road was on my list but seeing it was a 100 mile loop skirting the park land and me with about 100 miles left of fuel range, I back out and stick to the main roads, which was still a sight. Canyonlands is as odd as Arches, literally canyons within canyons within canyons, the giant holes in the ground and the large protruding table top mesas are an experience that needs to be witnessed first hand. I did all the one way roads in the park, totaling 40-50 miles and took in the awesome views and trying to comprehend how old and ancient the artwork of nature is and still continuing. It's unfathomable how old the world is and how short man has witnessed and lived in it. I took a couple hikes around the park, Upheaval Dome and Grandview Point, witnessing the awesome carving power of the Colorado and Green River. The land is alien yet screaming Earth, and it's great to think a majority of the area wasn't mapped till the 60's. I also wondered what this land looked like before we started building locks and dams, trying to tame the wild, which will eventually claim us and return to it's natural state if we don't blow it up, burn it down or smother Her.

About 4 or so, I find a sheltered picnic table where I decide to break, mark up the maps, update the journal and chill for an hour which then I'll head out of the Park and back towards Chrise's spot off US191. Not wanting to get there too early or too late, I make 191 where I call Zach, catch up, kill a bit of time and talk for 20 minutes or so. Heading over to Chrise's at 6:45, I pull in through the park, ignoring the stop and register sign, I find the RV that Chrise pointed out and pull in behind the vehicle. As I'm getting off Bike, Chrise walks out, hands me his rollies, I'm guessing since he rolled 1 or 2 of mine the day before, we shake hands and he tells me, "Good to see ya! Didn't know if we'd see you or not." I drop all the leather, throw them over Bike and we walk over to Chrise's 75/6 Beemer where he tells me he's 5K miles into a rebuilt motor and wouldn't dare think of getting rid of the bike as it means that much to him. I know exactly how he feels. Compadres already.

We go sit at the picnic table beside the RV and I take a good long drink of ice cold water. Stace comes out, feeling under the weather as she had an allergic reaction while cutting peppers or mushrooms, but she sits and hangs for a while, brings out Tom Dog for a walk and we have a great visit. Chrise moves on and brings out a box of Boto Wine which hits the spot and makes us smile. Sitting outside, Chrise and I get talking about each others past, getting to know each other, our thoughts and beliefs, motorcycling and how travel is good for the soul. A few years back he did a 1,200 mile bicycle ride from New Mexico heading north with $50 in his pocket and how it was the best thing he ever did. We had a good bit of similarities we could relate to with each other. Their neighbor Hal, a retired firefighter came over, swapped stories with us for a bit, good sense of humor, Stace joined us again for a bit and they both went back inside leaving Chrise and me with the wine. It's dark, 10is maybe and we decide it's time to eat. I tell him I can throw in a can of Chef Boyardee and I get a great look which I laughed at. He tells me to keep my food and he's got goods for grilling burgers. We bother help in preparing the food while enjoying the wine and talk, get the coals going, throw on the burgers, cut up the veggies and we have a delicious late night meal. We made 3 burgers, after we each ate one, Chrise went back to check on the other burger and come to find out it's gone! He said there's a couple wild cats running around and maybe one of them grabbed it, while I asked how it opened the hood, he both laughed in great spirits. We hung out till midnight or so, him and Stace had to be up around 6:30 am to get ready for work. They made me a spot on the couch in the RV, them sleeping in the bed literally just behind me. I throw on some tunes and drift into a sleep with a smile on my face. Another good day and company of strangers turned friends who put me up. Chrise's point was, people have done it for him, and this is his chance to return the favor. Good man.

Like I mentioned previously, we wake at 6:30 am, get coffee made and enjoy it with a smoke and watch Sun rise over the horizon where you can make out the Window Arches. Good view the Morning, starting us off with a great show to meet the day. We hang for an hour or so, waking up, drinking a couple cups of coffee and Chrise pointing out bits on the map for me. He mentioned if I was still in the area Monday, the 3 of us shoot make a loop around southern Utah on the bikes. I think that is a wonderful idea and puts me in a state of mind of short distances the next 3 or 4 days, check out the area, meander, hang and meet back up Sunday night or Monday morning.

They go to work, tell me I'm welcome to hang around as long as I want, "Me casa su casa." I tell them to go ahead and lock up, I'll head to Moab and treat myself to a couple of cheap dollar biscuits from Ronald. We part ways, him telling me, "If I don't see you ever again, best of luck and great travels." I retort, "I'll see you in a few days for our Monday ride." He smiled a big 'ol goofy grin and went off to work.

I ran back into Moab, yep, still touristy, hit up an auto parts store for a socket I thought I had to tighten the fork brace on Bike, all 4 bolts had worked themselves loose. Thanks Chrise for noticing! I hang out at Ronalds for 3+ hours, eat my 2 sausage and mustard biscuits slowly, charge the comp, get online, call the folks and find myself back on the road just after noon rolled around. Chrise recommended Utah 128, shooting east outside of Moab. I'm glad I did. Total canyon road with rock on both sides shooting hundreds of feet touching Sky. I found the spring Chrise mentioned running from a rock wall. He told me the most delicious water you'll ever drink. I didn't refill as I was loaded, I'll be back and fill up then. I followed the canyon carved by the Colorado, which was on my left and I meandered the road for 15 miles where I came upon a sign for Castle Valley back into the Menti-La Sal NF. I'm running through a valley guarded by large immense red rock and in from 10 or so mile away was green mountains. This is what I was meaning about being exposed in the environments on the bike. Here it was, desert and forest clashed at a nature seam, just like that. Red and brown over here, and green and lush in front. I began climbing the La Sal Loop road and was told by a sign that the road was closed 1.5 miles up. I continued on regardless, found the end out the road while scoping possible squat spots on the way. I looped back around the 'Road Closed' signs and headed for a spot I noticed a short distance back. I come upon it in no time, I make a left on a dirt pull off filled with Junipers and come to find out this happens to be a 'dispersed' camp area with primitive fire rings and shade. I survey a few spots and settle upon one where Bike and I can both tuck in under shade with a rock fire ring and enough room to pitch a tent. Mind you it's only 1 or 2 pm, I still have the whole day and I aint going to a damn thing. The clouds are rolling in, I figure I may as well pitch the tent for shelter in case of rain, I split semi burnt wood left overs to expose the good stuff, walk the grounds a bit, lay on the cot and read DeMille for a couple of hours, nod off for a bit, have a smoke, finish the drop of whiskey I had and before I knew it, it was pushing 6 pm. I'm good at this, haha.

I get a fire going to cook the rest of the macaroni and read a bit more. Got the water boiling, cooked the pasta, used up the rest of the Sriracha sauce, dumped in a can of tomatoes and chiles and had a filling fantastic meal. I did stumble across a packet of tuna in the boxes which would have totally topped off the pasta stuff. After cleaning up, it's getting dark so I get the fire going a bit stronger, sit back, update the journal, have an after dinner smoke and here I am. I did a total of 30 miles of distance today, no rush, and probably more of the same tomorrow. Chrise told me of a good spot further up the road, Dewey Bridge or something like that, being a good place to squat, I may just do that. Wake up late or early, hang around, maybe finish the book and see what happens. I wont know till then and what's the point of planning? Good night, time to blow on the fire and kick back and drift of while reading. Love, H

I woke extremely late considering being in a tent, rise and shine at 10 am. It must have been from the late night with Chrisee, the wine and the 6:30 am rise the day before. No complaints from me, what else do I have to do and what time schedule? Literally nothing! I took my time gearing up, I think I departed that section of Manti-LaSal Forest around noon.  It was a great spot, being in the division of separation  of desert and forest, brown on one side and green on the other.

I took the 12 miles back to UT128, guarded west by red and black canyon walls with green scrub creeping the sides, and on the east, buttes and piers of precarious red rock. I got back onto 128 and continued east, I think I had around 30 miles left of the road following the mighty Colorado River. My first objective was to find water, I was down to under a half of a gallon and I needed to find a reserve of toilet paper of some sort, hopping to find it at one of the numerous BLM campgrounds along the river. I find myself at Dewey Bridge and pull into the campground. It's a dry camp and I find all of the camps are on the bulletin board, but they do offer pit toilets which came in good for the obvious reasons and plus I could snag some paper to keep on the bike when nature calls in nature.

There's 2 Dewey Bridges, a new one and a disabled old one, everything present but the bridges roadway. The Kokapelli trail is present at the bridges and Chrise told me of an old homestead on one of the sides which I don't remember. I checked each side of the road and no good. I immediately turned back on one of them as Bike happened to not have enough ground clearance, being scraped and knocked twice in a row. THis is the last place I want to be stranded with a busted oil pan and plus I want to keep traveling. No apparent reason to commit motorcycle suicide, eh?

Being at Dewey, I had maybe 15 miles of 128 left, heading towards Cisco which on a BLM map said there were no services. The 15 miles are over in a moment and I find ourselves at a 3 way intersection, left towards Thompson Springs and right to Cisco. I have to see what is going on with Cisco. It's about 3-5 miles to the town which I can see in the distance when I was cresting a hill. I roll in to town and the place looks like a bomb was dropped on it. Every single building I mean everyone of them was either completed folded in or it was about to happen, and not one should around. It totally made me think of 'The Hills Have Eyes', I was wondering who was watching me from a busted window. The town appeared deserted and left alone, but there were a couple of satellite dishes, the new small ones peppered here and there on a few of the roofs. I think people still reside in this creepy but great spot. You wouldn't have to worry about any hassle here, the few cars I saw were flying through the town and I was the only one stopped. 

I found a sign at the end of town for Cisco Takeout. "What the heck is that?" I wondered. So I took the road which cuts through another ramshackle spot and go maybe 5 miles which puts me at a boat ramp on the Colorado, which had a full parking lot, but again, not a soul around. What's this, bizarro land? Regardless, I park the bike off the side of the ramp, remove the riding gear and baptize myself in the Colorado for a moment to cool down. After a couple of minutes, I return to Bike, have a smoke and look at the map. Only thing up ahead is Interstate 70 and what looks to be a road that runs parallel just off the north side of the superslab. 

I gear back up, run back through Cisco and capture some pictures of the disarray and head back to the 3 way intersection I just came from and shoot west. Signs up ahead for I70, I run over the overpass and sure enough, there's the road I was hoping for. Like I've said numerous times before, I avoid the interstate unless it's the only possible way or unavoidable. There's no fun in riding the superslab, especially at 50-60MPH, I get blown around out there by the trucks and impatient cagers that seem to pile up behind me.

The road I'm on has no number, I figured it would be a continuation of 128 but at the start of the road a sign read, 'End of State Maintenance', and it sure felt like it. I'm guessing this is the road the interstate replaced. Visually it was cool on my right, big mountains of striped bluffs with clouds hanging about. On my right, it wasn't so cool, I could see the interstate and it was maybe a half mile away, but past that, the canyons and mountains screamed victory. It was a very rough 20 miles, neglected pot holes, spots where the road was disappearing and as Dad says, 'Rough as a corncob.'

I entered in Thompson Springs through the back door, the front being an exit off I70. People do live here but it's evident it's on it's last breath. All the local establishments are closed besides a DOT garage and a Shell Station. I pause at the gas station where I replenish my water supply, have a smoke and see if I can get in touch with Chrise and Stace, seeing if they would like to get together this evening as I'm thinking of leaving the area in the morning, who knows. I shoot them a message, them still on the work clock and I get back on the road. I take what appears to be a dirt road cutting between the station and the 2 lane, but I instantly stop as I almost ran over a downed barbed wire fence, close call as my tread of the left side of the front tire is somewhat considerably worn down compared to the right. 

I take the 2 lane to Cresent Jct., nothing there besides an over priced mom n pop gas station and go under I70 and get back on US191 taking me back to Moab. A brief wide open 20 miles, I'm at where Chrise and Stace work, the Archview Campground, where I pause and see if they returned the message. No message, I head down the road and hit UT279 which again, I'm following the Colorado River between towering and unforgiving red and black canyon walls. It's a 16 mile road that turns to gravel taking you into Horsethief SP. Wanting to save $10, I pause for a break at the end of the pavement and turn around. The big item was my trip clock was reading 160 miles, anytime I would be turning on one of the fuel reserves. I head back up the road towards Moab, taking in the canyon scenery and capturing pix. I stop at one pull of and witness a great number of native pictoglyphs drawings about 20 feet up on the canyon walls, wonderful stuff, as I  can understand why they would be here, the river. MAde me wonder what the Natives called the Colorado in their day. Maybe they didn't name it, maybe 'Colorado' is Native, I don't know but I appreciate it all immensely.

Before entering Moab, I take the opportunity to hit the fresh water spring Chrise mentioned yesterday at the beginning of 128 which I passed yesterday and knew exactly where it was. I small pull off on the right, and there's fresh water spilling out of a crack in the wall. Someone put in a plastic lip so there's a steady pour where I put my 2 biggest bottles and replaced the spigot water with fresher than fresh water. Delicious, a total clean taste. Good stop, I should have filled up my other 3 dumpster dived vessels, but I left them with what they had. 

I get back to Moab, cruise through, anything new? No, still touristy. I head out of town for the Forest Access sign I noticed 2 days back and thinking of my fuel situation. I get out of town about 3 miles and Motor starts to sputter, I through on the left reserve, She comes back to life and I look at my trip and it reads 190! I've never had it that high before throwing on reserve. Playing it safe, I made a louie and refueled back in town as the stations where I was were 20 cents higher. Fueled up, I decided to call Chrise and Stace, but no answer. They did say they were on standby tonight after they got off at 3, so I left a message and carried on. It would be cool to hear from them in the morning, I'd like to say thanks and goodbye if possible. I hope I didn't leave the couch smelling of earthly human and offend them, they don't seem like the offending type. haha.

I find the Forest Access road and what do you know? It's the other side of the closed road I slept on last night, LaSal Mountain Loop, it also having road closure signs 12 miles ahead. I climbed the mountain terrain for 10 miles or so, I found a pull off, running down over the road and tucked away, looks GREAT to me! I back Bike in where we're going to sleep, unpack, delouse and set up camp, the time 6 pm. I actually heat up cans of spaghetti and mixed veggies and have a warm dinner topped with red pepper flakes as my bottle of Sriracha sauce ran dry last night. While cooking, nature called, glad I grabbed a bit of Federal TP and did my business. TMI? Get over it, part of the journey.

For once, I'm caught up with my journal, sounds like someone else may be coming down the hill for camp. Company? Hope they're cool. Sun is low, the temps just right and no wind. All is good and well, loving life and Bike. Thank you. H

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So I wake just before 8 am, Sun is shining and asking me to join her. I eat a tart, gear up and head back to Moab. I reach town in an easy 20 minutes and head to Ronald's for a cup of coffee and wi-fi. I park and check phone, hey a message from Chrise, good stuff! He tells me to call him back which I do. I left a message and he calls as soon as I sit down with the coffee and get the laptop turned on. He want's to know if I'm interested in a short morning ride before he has to show up for work at 3. I tell him, "Of course, no rush, enjoy your morning and I'll wait for you here."

Plans engaged and set, I upload the journal and pix, enjoy the coffee and wait for his call on when he's on his way. He calls, I get set and step outside for a smoke when I see him pull up on his 75/6 Beemer with barndoor fairing.  He joins me for the smoke, I offer my last bit of coffee which he gladly enjoys and we talk for a bit in Ronald's parking lot, in the shade of course. I noticed he had a book in his back pocket which he pulls out and says, "I almost forgot, but I was digging through my books and here you are." It's Thoreau's Walden, I've never read it, but know of it, it shall be a great road read. Another serendipity of the road as I say!

Somehow the talk turns to beer and he says, "Let's go to the brewery next door and I'll buy you a beer before we head out."

"Sounds great!" I say.

We head next door to the Moab Brewery, leaving the bikes at Ronald's house. We step in and you can smell that they're brewing the good stuff today. Utah is a 3% alcohol state, by the way. We each order the stout and have a couple of samples of their other offerings. While we're there, Chrise schools me on the Mormons, the hot springs to the west in Monroe, UT which I might not be hit up till spring, books and what we've each read or can remember . We finish our delicious beer, he pays the barkeep, and we step back out, roll our smokes and head back to the bikes. Of course we continue to talk and he says, "Being already this late, I'm not worried about the ride, I'm cool with just talking." Again my reply, "Sounds great!" me enjoying the company and talk with a great guy.

While talking back beneath the shade tree at Ronald's a guy pulls up on a VeeStrom. We say hey, immediately introducing ourselves, him going by Yura from B.C. who's been on the road for 8 days on a month long journey. The 3 of us talk for a good 30 minutes, Chrise pointing out roads for him that he should hit while in the area. Shortly there after, Chrise has to depart for work at the campground and says, "If still here in the area, you're more than welcome to come back tonight, hang out and crash in the RV again." You know it, again I say, "Sounds great, I'll bring a box of wine over to replenish what we drank the other night. I may just find a shade tree by the Colorado and make a day reading Walden, nothing else to do." "Sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon." he retorts.We shake hands, he turns over the /6 and sounding like a sewing machine with exhaust, pulls out.

While at Ronald's, I decided to take advantage of the wi-fi and their soft serve machine and type out the afternoon and upload the couple photos we took in the parking lot. Good day and great people. TIll tomorrow, I shall hang around Moab and start heading south most likely, but who knows, I wasn't planning on todays events and here I am. Tonight shall be spent with new friends yet again and all is well. Till next time. Love, H

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I hung around Ronald's with Yura, him being there for the same reason. We shot talk back and forth about our travels and dug what each of us were doing. He got up to leave and we wished each other well, I following not long after. I went to the state store in Moab and got a box of wine to take over to Chrise and Staces, it's the least I could do for their wonderful hospitality in taking a stranger off the road. It's great as we're strangers no more, good friends we are. I got the wine and went and found a picnic spot by the Colorado where I started reading Walden and absorbing it, I'm digging it already and he's saying things that I have felt, I'm sure everyone has felt, but he has the balls not only to say them, but actually publish them. I was highlighting excerpts and found myself pretty much marking almost entire pages, this is ridiculous but good.

Once it got dark, I still had an hour and a half before I was to meet Chrise back at Achview Campground where his RV is parked. I was low on tobacco and not wanting to sponge if it came to it, from Chrise and Stace. I headed back into town, dusk was getting warmed up and I stopped at the local grocer where I bought some Prince Albert and chilled in the parking lot for an hour or so, dark was definitely in place. It hit 9 pm, I was sick of hanging while waiting and started a slow meander 10 miles north of town.

I pulled into the campground and saw Chrise and he threw his arm up. I met up with him, he took the wine to put in the deep freeze of the store to chill it a bit, said hey to Stace, who was ready to go home. I head on over to the RV while they close up shop and begin my chill for the evening. It was a lazy day, but a long also. They make the camper about 10 minutes later, Stace gives me a tuna salad sandwich that had peppers and was too spicy for her liking. It felt good to get something in my gut, all I had that day was a tart, coffee, ice cream cone and now this. Chrise comes out of the camper with 2 mugs and the box of wine. Stace calls it an early night and we hang outside at the picnic table where we discuss.

Chrise and I clicked the first moment we talked a couple days back. Now were really clicking and discussing pretty deep and personal stuff. It's good to be able to make yourself comfortable with pretty much a stranger, but we really got to know each other. Before we knew it, it was 4:30 am, he had to be up at 8 to open the store and I had plans to depart south sometime during the day. Of course, before I knew it, the sun was shinning and Stace had coffee made, smelled great. I went ahead and got up, didn't want to be the slouch on the couch while they went to work and the 3 of us plus TomDog hung out and got the day started. Stace took off and Chrise hung back, drank another cup and we had a smoke. Before he took off, he told me to go back inside and get some sleep and make myself at home. So he departed and I took him up on his offer and laid back down. I hollered for TomDog, figuring he would love to cuddle and go back to sleep but no word. Where is that dog, not many spots a dog could hide in the RV? I lay around for an hour or 2 and totally cannot get back to sleep. I open the computer, waste time online and go back outside where I meet Chrise. He's coming in for a bit of breakfast and I can tell he's feeling last night, not that we got drunk, but a late night.

I tell him I'm preparing to bolt, can't sleep and might as well leave since they're working. We say our goodbyes, tell each other to stay in touch and all that. I'm not leaving right away, want to cool the leather off since it sat out over the night which led to the morning sun. He told me to take my time, which I did. So all the leather is cool, water is cooled and I gear up to depart. I crank over Bike, she fires up and I head out when out of nowhere I'm stopped by Chrise who's pulling a graceful donut in the utility golf cart. He says, "Hold up, the boss's gave me a break and told me to take off 2 hours early. I'll join you on your ride south to Bridges NP. Give me 30 minutes." Right on and good stuff. I go back to the camper, get the leather off and hang in the AC. Chrise comes back, gets ready, we're in no rush, talk a bit more, which happened to be on close minded meatheads, had a smoke and we were ready. We fire up the Airheads, stop by the store and say bye to Stace, and get back on the bikes where he says, "I think I can make town, on last reserve, meet you there. We bolt on 191 south and he takes off and me puttering behind, ride slow right? Outside of Moab, I catch up to him and he's sputtering. He yells to me to lets stop at the spring and fill up which we did. Leaving the spring, his bike will not start, so I take off my left carb bowl and start pouring in fuel to his tank. We get back on the road to Moab, literally right there and he dies again on the side of the road. He hops off, pops off the tank like that and holds it over to get all the fuel he can on the left side, throws on the tank and the bike comes to life and we pop into the first gas station.

I filled up and while waiting on Chrise, I see a green old van I recognize from Taos at the Rio Grande Gorge Hotsprings. Out walks the crazy guy the drives it and I point at him which makes him stop in his tracks. "I remember you from Taos at the hot springs." I tell him. "Yeah but I don't remember you." He replies. "That's ok, good to see you again." I threw back at him. The guy is definitely off his rocker mentally and I expected that even though we talked 10 minutes at the springs. We say our goodbyes, Chrise pulls up and we hit the road. We head out of town maybe 30 miles to some arch, I don't remember the name, and we pull over to look at it and we ended up talking there on the side of the road probably 45 minutes on meditation. Time to leave and make tracks, we head the other 30 miles or so to Monticello, where we stop and he messes with his carb jets and makes sure the gaskets are seated correctly cos a bit of fuel was coming out. He fixes that, we sit in the road, smoke and of course talk. We're hungry and he says we passed a Taco Time back at the gas station. I tell him I'll buy him dinner and we head back. We order 6 tacos and tater tots and scarf of the freebie toppings bar, the tomato and chili mix was delicious, I at 4 small cups of the stuff along with the tacos. We wrap up, bellies full of good cheap food and head out to the bikes where we planned to smoke and head to Natural Bridges NP until a lonely trucker walked up and started talking and talking and talking. It was a good and fun talk but our day light was low and we broke away from the guy after an hour. Being 7:30 pm by then, it was too late to hit up the NP, Chrise had to shoot and hour north and I had to find a forest road for sleep before it got dark. We said our goodbyes, I think this was our 3rd time, we wished each other well and to stay in touch, he made a left and I made a right.

Dusk was showing up and I wasn't seeing anything forest road wise even though the Manti-LaSal was on my right where the mountains were. Nothing, I started scoping out local roads and farm roads thinking this may be a night sleeping in the leather in case I get ran off by a rancher or Sheriff, BINGO. I see a brown sign stating forest campground. Screw the campground, I know there will be a pull off somewhere on the road where I can continue my free sleeping, and I was right. I made a right on the road, 802 or 804, and I went 50-100 yards and on my right behind 2 rocks blocking the small road, I find my spot, the bike slips easily between the 2 rocks and I find a nest from which I can not be see from the road. I make it an easy night, get set up, shoot Stace a message that Chris is about 45 minutes from home and I'm safe and sound for the night. Looking at the maps since I'm back on the road, I figure my route through southern Utah and a proposed route to Phoenix where I'm to meet back up with Desert Dave and Kerrilyn. Good night and I did sleep tight.

The following morning I wake around 8 am, get geared up, eat a tart and pop back between the 2 rocks and back on the road. It was short ride and we find ourselves in Blanding, UT where I pull into a rest stop, sit in the shade and have a smoke. An older fella comes out and he sits down next to me and we end up talking for an hour. His name is Dave, 70 years old, retired truck driver and comes out to Utah to enjoy his quad in the BLM land. He had the usual old fella words and set in his way, but he was enjoyable company and we laughed and smiled. We split ways, I fueled up seeing I was going into sparse land around Natural Bridges and head out. The ride in the morning was breath taking and clear. The terrain went from forest to exposed rock that looks from another world, just like the Arches area, but this was wide open and arid. We were carving the road, pulling over for pictures of more rocks and larger rocks and made the Natural Bridges area where I pulled over and took advantage of foraging pine nuts from the Pinyons. Delicious and I spent an hour collecting a decent amount, sap covering my hands and dirt doing the trick to neutralize the stickiness and scrapped the crap off. I gave the tree a kiss for letting me collect and enjoy it's bounty, I stuffed the bag of nuts in the box and headed for the park.

Once in the park I filled up on water and got a map and paused to scope and plan out the way one road park. First stop was at the overlook for Sipapu Bridge, a large, healthy, solid formation created by 2 rivers working for eons on their creation, a symbolic portal where it's believed that the People emerged. I made the next stop where there was a trail, I threw the leather in Bike's shadow and started walking, taking me to a better and closer look at Sipapu from a large patio of sandstone. I hiked back the half mile or so, up a ladder and steps and took my time wandering around the top slab of rock, looking at what grew on here and the strange climbs of healthy black and brown soil. I avoided the real trail and climbed back up the sandstone, got to Bike, swigged on water and geared up for the next bridge, Kachina.

Kachina had a trail, but I wasn't feeling it as I just got off one. I looked at it from the overlook, my eyes taking in the large gorge, water and life springing everywhere, guarded by the sentinel Bridge, watching over it's territory. The next stop was Owachomo Bridge and the last one. This one also had a trail, which I did take advantage of. I hike down, turning this way and that, following the cairns and the logs showing the way, I made a last turn and, WOW. There it is, the rock expanded a great way and was ancient, telling by how thin the center was and only time will tell when the fissures will become so large the bridge will collapse. I took in the shade but was pumped up and walked the area, when I saw water! I looked over the walls trying to figure a way down to the brown water and jump in to cool down. There was a large beach area which looked to difficult to get to and I found to pools, one feeding the other and did look accessible. I took a simple hike down to the first pool, took off the socks and boots, walked in the water with extremely greasy sandstone which I was mucking up by disturbing the caked bottom mud. I sat down and let out a sigh of contentment, dunked my head and enjoyed. I didn't soak too long, not wanting to give others the idea and I headed back up the trail. I threw back on the leather, hopped on Bike and off we went. We stopped back by the Ranger station to refill the water jugs and back to the road and back south towards Moki Dugway.

The road south, 261, was great, it put us out into wide open hilly country that continued pretty straight. It's about 40 miles from the beginning to road 160 which would put us in Mexican Hat, UT. 30 miles from the beginning is where the Moki Dugway is, the road turns to gravel, 10% grades for 3 miles taking us into the Valley of the Gods. The ride to Dugway was chill, Bike enjoyed the road, I enjoyed Bike and I also enjoyed the wonderful scenery of trees, flowers and meadows which led us to Dugway. We paused a moment, I wrapped a smoke and checked the map, took a pic of Bike with the Dugway sign and looked past and my breath was taken. I looked out could see for miles, this is the Dugway, I'll be riding a canyon wall! Awesome. We hit the gravel and pulled over at the first stop to look out the vista and it was something else, odd rock formations popping up here and there below in the distance, Earth looked so unearthly. We got back on the road, zigged and zagged down the switchbacks and into the valley. It seemed to be over too quick, but it is what it is. I continued south, mesmerized by the crazy rocks with precarious rocks on top, ancients sand dunes, compressed to rock and blown away by wind and water.

I came up the sign on the right for Gooseneck State Park. Desert Dave told me to stop and camp here and I found out why. It was a 5 mile ride to the park where I expected a fee station and the usual. But no, it was literally a dead end and that was it, plus free. I parked the bike and looked over the railing and, WHOA! A burley canyon below which snaked back and forth, a maze of rock hundreds of feet down. I parked by picnic table with a stone fire ring, but thinking it was too close to the parking lot, I notice a dirt, more like rocky, road leading to the edge of the canyon maybe 300-400 yards out. Of course I take it, the road beating us up but we wont give up, we take it slow over the craggy surface all the way to the end. The very end. I set up camp, it's pretty early and the weather is great, the sun is out but clouds are moving in. I make dinner on the propane, a dish of macaroni, tomatoes and chilis with a can of chicken, hot sauce and red pepper flakes. Delicious, I ate it all up, washed it down with left over wine and of course water.

That's when the wind started picking up and I could see rain in the far distance, walls of it. Being the top of a canyon of slickrock, stakes were no good to tie down the rainfly shelter, so I used rocks which worked for a bit. The wind took the rain fly like a sail and I grabbed the fly, which was trying to pull me where the edge was just feet away. I couldn't get the rain fly to cooperate, the poles were going every which way, and after fighting it for 10 minutes, I balled it up and packed it up. If a storm is moving in, which it sure did seem like, I didn't want to be on the edge with a shelter that would stay put. I geared up and loaded Bike and headed to the picnic shelter in the parking lot, thinking I'd sleep there or in the bathroom. I got to the shelter and the wind was just howling ridiculously, I figured with help from the canyon. I went in the bathroom to wrap a smoke and think out my possibilities. The bathroom was loud and the small area made it seem ever louder, I wouldn't be able to sleep in here with that racket. I went back out to the picnic shelter, watching Bike rock back and forth on her sidestand, maybe I shouldn't sleep anywhere by the canyon. So we headed out of the parking lot, found a 100 yard road on the left a mile out and looked better and the wind seemed less fierce. I unpacked of course, got out the rainfly to stake down and there was still just enough wind to make me start cussing, ranting and raving the wind, rainfly and myself. I decide to get out the actual tent which I haven't used in over a month or so, and set up the standard proper way. I was still fighting both the fly and tent, through in my gear to weight the tent down as I popped it up with the poles which actually got bent up while on the canyon edge. I got all put together and found the ground still too tough for stakes, so I grabbed heavy rocks and used the rainfly's tiedowns and looped them around the rocks, it worked and now I'm beat and it's getting dark, the clouds still thick. I tuck into the tent waiting for the rain. I talk to Zach for a moment and touch base, him in OKC for a teacher conference/class. I message Dave, let him know the situation and I look out of the tent as he asked if I can see the monuments and the stars are SCREAMING! Clouds are gone and looks like t's going to be a calm night. I finish of the bit of wine that was in a water bottle, gladly finish my DeMille book, I was ready for it to be over and tucked in for the night, woke a couple times and finally got up 8ish.

Another usual song and dance morning, I gear up and decide to hit the Moki Dugway one more time, twice I guess since I have to come back down. I stop a mile or so before the large towering wall and tie my camera to the mirror, set it to video, hit record and make my ascent. IT was more fun this time, seeing what I was climbing, hoopin and a hollering, checking the view and just feeling great. I make the summit, turn around and change batteries in the camera, knowing that the video blew out the current pair. I tied the camera back to the mirror, hopping to record the descent but I couldn't get it snug enough and it kept working loose, so I stuck the camera back in my pocket and enjoyed the ride back down the Moki Dugway.

At the bottom, I hit up the left and rode into the Valley of the Gods. It's a 17 mile dirt road, pretty primitive in some spots, couple of wash crossing and to top it off, huge monolithic, in charge rock formations with the road intimately taking you to each one. I took my time out here, enjoyed the sights and immensely had fun on the road, minding my lines, digging in sand, climbing over rocks, it's a good day to be alive out here amongst the Gods. I took maybe an hour or so on the valley road, took pix of all the rocks. They had names, man given names, and like with a majority of all other nonman made items, I prefer them as they stand. What does our names matter? NOTHING! They're there regardless, with or without us, and have been there much longer than we.

I get back on the main road, ---, and ride 20 miles or so to Mexican Hat. I wondered where that name came from, then I pass a sign pointing at a goofy slab of rock resting on a round rock, called the Mexican hat, gotchya. Now I know.

I fueled up in Mexican Hat, just on the boundary of the Navajo Nation, which is across the San Juan River. I pause there, enjoy a smoke, refill the water bottles, check the maps of Utah and Arizona and look forward to my ride through Monument Valley once in AZ. I cross the river and find ourselves in the Nation of the Navajo, large wide open country, brown and red, dirt with scrub. We traversed for 25 miles through the Nation before entering Arizona, where the Nation still continues. Thinking that the Indian Nations are on sovereign entities, I find it odd, that State welcoming signs don't occur till out of the Nations and Reservations. I hate the word reservation, seems demeaning in a way. I mean, here's the People which we ran and chased and put them here and there, encroached on their land and still are and yet they're still a Nation within a State. Odd.

Regardless, I find myself in the famed Monument Valley, like the Valley of the Gods but on a much more grand scale, it's mind blowing and impossible to think just how old this is. It's simply fantastic. I pass numerous Navajo markets where they sell handmade goods to the tourists. I don't stop, I haven't bought one souvenir since I've been out as I have no room and I'm not a tourist, I'm a traveler. I'd rather talk than buy, but I'm still a white man in Monument Valley nonetheless. The clouds have been visually alive and large all morning and now they're breaking. Rain on my right obscuring the large formations and I pick up the speed trying to avoid the oncoming down pour. It does catch up to me but I carry on, not wanting to put on the rain gear, the leather can hold up to a bit of rain and I chance it. I come out of the rain a moment later but it's still all around. I push on towards Kayenta, AZ, or perhaps better, Kayenta, Navajo. Dave gave me a couple spots worth checking but I keep moving with the rain on my mind. The west is black and the distant land is nowhere to be found and I aim for Tuba City. About half way, the angry clouds overhead look a bit happier and Sun is filtering through above. I pull over next to the train tracks and pause, have a can of pineapple, wrap a smoke and observe. After 15 minutes, I head back out and so far so good, my dampness is not as bad and the rain clouds are still in the distance. I make Tuba City and like Kayenta, I carry on. I make AZ 89, the road to the Grand Canyon, north to the Northern Rim, I was on this road 3 years ago, maybe 4 and did visit and stayed at the Grandest of Canyons so I bypassed. I headed south and was greeted with Cameron, still in the Navajo Nation. I pull into a gas station, turn in the gravel to park Bike and gravity pulls her down when we stop and I don't fight it. I spill her on the right side with me standing. I lift her back up, right side spills being goofy as you have to swing, or in my situation pick a leg up and over cos of the gear. It's odd and unsettled, I take a moment, pick up my left leg and push it over the tank, I find myself in good standing and park on the sidestand. I'm not bashful over these situations, it happens and it did. I get back off, get a can of ravioli out of the box and eat it there in the parking lot. It's been a long last 100 miles outrunning the rain and I was hungry. I wash it down with water, fuel up, say hey to the Navajo by the pump who kinda just looks at me and says what's up out of the corner of his eyes and I go in to get my receipt. I continue south from Cameron and there it is, I'm going to hit it, rain. It's totally covering the San Francisco Mountains up ahead with sheets of rain and swirling clouds. I have to do it, I have to put on the rain-gear unless I want to be drenched. I pull off the road and ride on down the embankment to be safely off the road. I don the gear, hop back on Bike, scoot up the embankment and get back on the road just as I meet the wall of water I could see a moment ago in the distance. It didn't last long but it was heavy and looked like it could start again though it was a constant drizzle. I make the --- Forest, find the landmark, opposite the Sunset Crater, hang a right on the Forest road and find the first dispersed camping spot. I pull over and check the gear, expecting the surplus dry bags to have been compromised but I'm pleasantly surprised all is dry. I set up the cot, through up the rain fly, make dinner, same as last night and sit outside eating and looking at the beautiful yellow flowered forest meadow I'm set up in.

With that done, I check in with Dave, saying I may be a day early and him totally cool with it. I wrap myself up in the shelter, catch up with the journal writing and here I am. It just now started to rain again, this is monsoon season I hear, so it could do it all night long. That's OK, I guess, here regardless if I like it or not. I have Walden to concentrate on, some tunes if I feel the hankering and of course sleep. I feel like I shall sleep well tonight and look forward to seeing friends tomorrow. I have an out of the way route picked to drop into the northern Phoenix area to avoid it's nightmarish roadways and traffic, coming in the back door. If the weather is sketchy, I may just jump on 87 and high tail it to town, see what happens then.

Man, I'm wide awake and it's barely light, I've been tossing for what seems like an eternity. I woke a time or two during the early morning to rain pelting the shelter, and I remember tossing a few times. I didn't sleep all that well. I'm dry but it's damp in the air topped with a moist mountain chill. Thinking of Dave telling me Las Vegas flooding and here I am do east, that was definitely in my head and had to have been in my subconscious. I feel the ground, wet, glad I'm on a cot and off the ground. My trench worked for a moment but appears to have been breached. I slide on my slippers, AKA water shoes. These things are beat, there's large holes with gaping cracks on the soles of both shoes but still doing their job. I stumble to Bike in the mist, she's soaked of course. I squint at the small clocked fixed to the tach glass and through the mist covered lens I read 5:30 am. I grab my last tart and groggily eat the thing, wash it down with water. I may as well pack up. I'm not going back to sleep and it's not going to warm up anytime soon. The fly is drenched and dirty. Trying to keep everything dry, I throw all the odds and ends on the cot and slide it out along with the gear on the tarp out from under the fly. I bring down the shelter and wad it up and stuff it into it's sack, instantly drenching it. I pack up the rest, warm up Bike mainly to I can warm up my hands and gloves on the cylinders. She belches a healthy blue cough as she always does in chilly cold start ups. Hands somewhat warm, I step her into gear and ride off. Coffee is in my thoughts, a tall cup of hot liquid, again more for my hands than insides.

I find a gas station, get the cup of mud and look at my AZ state map, the lower half soaked. The freezer bags in the tank pouches have been compromised and in need of replacements. Man, what is this weather going to be like today? Thinking of the monsoon seasons, mix of high altitude and my dodging rain yesterday. I'm still groggy, I don't know if I'm up for a leisurely ride and make it take all morning to cruise the 150 miles or whatever it is to the Phoenix area. There's I-17, a straight shot south. I know I've talked crap on the superslab but this feels like a moment it was made for, to make time. That's it, I'm going to do it and ride the interstate. I think I know what I'm getting into here with the Arizonians flying and the Californians doing double that. I run into the entrance ramp not far south when I enter Flagstaff proper and hang my left, open the throttle and get on it. Bike accelerating and staying on an optimistic 70mph, realistically more like 60-65. Compared to the usual, I feel like we're flying. Suitable as the 247 motor, a decedent of airplane motors utilized by the luftwaffe and banned for plane use under the Versaille Treaty. We push down the road, Jack and Neil in mind, butchering various cars crossing the country at mad speeds. Ha, my loaded down wide ass pushing mad speeds, far from it.

17 was efficient and we made time compared to the 4 or 5 hours the mosey route would have taken. Today is a destination day and I'm already ready to get there, Phoenix that is, Dave and Kerrilyns more precisely. I was in forest country a good portions, large clouds floating just above the ground, one taking the shape of a bird and made the Phoenix come to mind, fitting. The urban area was not existent fairly quick, surrounded by trees and hills in the Coconino NF, hills enveloping me and vistas looking out over the land and large areas of rock jutting out competing for king. I noticed signs had me dropping in thousand feet intervals and the terrain changing accordingly. The solid green in abundance, brown being peppered in, green being scraped out and brown taking over with green left to the scrub and giant cacti. Making a break in Camp Verde, I made Phoenix demarcation about 10 am, traffic picking up from every direction, I try to maintain a bubble, when changing lanes I wave my left arm for attention and use hand signals along with my indicators on Bike. I want these cell phone taking while driving people to see me and notice what I'm doing. I hit the 101 loop and hang to the west. I'm going to do this this time, I'm going to make Daves without getting lost or making a round the world trip out of Phoenix. I maintain on the 101W and keep an eye out, staying in the right or middle lanes so I can make a quick exit on Olive. I go maybe 10 miles (?) and there it is, I hop onto the off ramp and hang a right, this is familiar of course and worked out fine, still no there, Champ. I'm going by bleary landmarks, I don't remember any road names besides, Thunderbird. I make a turn and another turn and I pull right into Daves driveway, that was cake, ha. I'll be lost here again at some point, I just know it. I get off Bike, I'm now warm, it's safe to say Phoenix is hot. The weather stayed nice with threat from no rain. I have on my long sleeve shirt and long johns under the bibs. Ha, I laugh at the thought of me in my long johns and boots.

Dave comes out with trash and we greet each other. We grab stuff off bike after I push her around the side of the house. We go inside, I greet Kerrilyn and Dave throws on some pancakes while I get into shorts. I step in the kitchen and Dave says, "Man are you ripe, smell like a bear." It's was at, Teddy's 3 weeks ago since I've had my last 'proper shower'. 

"Really? I didn't think I was that bad, I can't smell me." I say.

"Oh yeah, smell like a campground." He laughs, handing me a plate of pancakes and bacon along with milk. I scarf it down and am content, that was delicious. 

Kerrilyn had to step out for errands and Dave and I scoot off to the grocery store for of course groceries. Inside walking down and isle, Dave says, "Man  you ARE ripe, you smell like a bear."

"I've been in water. I don't the brown silty water at the Natural Bridges NP did any good, but what about hot springs?" I ask with a smile on my face.

We move on and go about our action do our thing in the store.

We get back, crack and beer and Dave reminds me of my earthly smells and mentions that a shower would be a good idea before Kerrilyn get's home and regrets me coming over. We laugh.

I take my shower, a warm one even though it's hot out and I let it soak me and I quickly wear down the new bar of soap. Looking down the water is brown, ha, that's great, it's the road and experiences there that lived wit me. I turn off the water and notice there's what I would call silt in the base of the tub. I turn on the water and push it towards the drain and keep my smile. Good times there friend, I shall meet up with you again.

Dave makes a delicious beer chicken on the grill outside. Kerrylin makes it back home and she's gearing up for the 'Trunk Show' she's participating in over the weekend in Scottsdale, a big vintage clothing, crafts art and other goods show that should be fun to witness.

It's now after 1 am, they've turned in and I'm looking forward to doing the same. It's good to see these cats again, great friends of the road who have put me up in the past. Dave has a stack of books picked out for me amongst his other numerous worthy reads. This will be another good visit and I'm looking forward to spending time with my contemporaries and gracious hosts. Thanks again my friends and I promise not to permeate the olfactory senses. 

Cheers!