It was a cold morning and gray.
We took our time in prepping the bikes, slowed by the weather and the prospect of leaving the area for Texas again. We’d been too tired to visit with our friends the night before but hung out with them for breakfast and some quality time before saying our goodbyes and heading for Arches National Park.
My first visit to Arches by motorcycle years before had been timed perfectly, dropping my gear at a motel in town then heading into the park late in the day as the setting sun skimmed the orange sandstone. The effect was as if the massive cliffs and monuments, impressive as they are anyway, were made to appear almost as living lava in the orange glow of the sunset. If you time the light right, the color of red and orange on the rocks is indescribable, appearing false in photographs but just as intense in real life.
Unfortunately, our visit didn’t include such effect as the skies were gray and overcast. Yet, the park and its formations are no less impressive to see.
We stopped frequently for short hikes and views, staying for a long time under one of the arches we’d climbed up to, eating a Power Bar and people watching at times, contemplating the ages involved in forming the stunning formations all around. Nothing has given me the sense of the eons of time passed than travel by motorcycle through canyon after canyon across America.
Our goal for the day was Grand Junction and the Sprinter van we’d left behind, what now seemed like years before. The gray skies had broken up a bit with patches of dull blue amongst the haze and finally some pure sun as we left the park for Highway 128 north.
The road was great, again a favorite from past rides, as we twisted and curved our way towards Grand Junction along the Green River. Highway 128 is a magnificent ride, I think one of the better motorcycling roads in the US and not to be missed when in the area.
Allow me to opine, but if you don't have the time or resources to do much traveling, I suggest grabbing your tent and heading for southern Utah. You can do no better for scenery and roads. There are lots of places to camp free on the land, and the scenery is astounding. In the off-seasons of late spring and fall, temperatures are perfect for travel and there are very few people around. Several years ago when I finally got the opportunity to visit the area, it captured my heart and has never let go. Of the few places I've been, Alaska and Utah are my favorites for sheer scenery, perfect contrasts with each other. Just go my friends...
By the time we neared I-70, the long shafts of sunlight were gone and darkness began it’s slow creep over the sky. It felt strange and surreal for some reason, traveling at 80 mph and slowly passing trucks and cars as we head towards the Colorado border.
Our speed reduced as the darkness came, finally rolling into Grand Junction in cold air and a pitch black sky for a late arrival motel.
The next day dawned clear and crisp as we headed for Silt and the waiting van. Interstate 70 between Glenwood Springs and the Eagle area is an amazing ride, both for the scenery and the engineering of a highway through it…
Our arrival in Silt and rolling up to the van brought a lot of emotion. In ways signaling the end of an amazing chapter, mixed with the down to earth reality of what might be facing us in the van. Dead battery? Mouse infestation? Burglary or damage? Thankfully, none of the above other than mouse droppings, a spider infestation and some mud smeared by hand on the van - probably by a kid but possibly someone who dislikes Texans as the plates were obviously and heavily covered with clay.
We pulled out our base camping gear and extras we’d left in the Sprinter and gave it a good cleaning inside before assembling the ramps and loading the bikes. When we’d initially left Dallas the Sprinter had carried an F700GS and the R1200GSA, but now I wondered if the two 1200’s would fit in the allotted space, the 700 being bit narrower. Other than adjusting the stagger of the wheel chocks a few inches for the heads and bars to clear, the bikes fit like a glove.
After packing the bikes and putting the camp gear back in, we had a couple of pieces of indoor/outdoor carpet left over that we decided to toss. I looked around for a dumpster and saw a man with long, gray hair and beard sitting in a wheelchair down the way, a dirty canvas tent flapping in the breeze next to him. I carried the two pieces of carpet with me and walked down to speak with him, thinking he could possibly use them.
As I walked up I could see into his tent which had just a dirt floor. He was older, with long, gray hair and beard, deeply tanned and wrinkled from the weather. He was a paraplegic and wheelchair bound. As we talked, a woman stuck her head out of the tent and then came out, standing behind and making silent signs with her hands and mouthing “He’s crazy” to me. He seemed to sense what she was doing and twisted to give her a look.
They both were happy to get the carpet pieces to cover the dirt floor. He told me he was wheelchair bound now after spending his life traveling by foot and bicycle over much of south and central America. He looked at me and said, “Do it now and don’t wait." He shared that he had no money and would probably live in this tent for the rest of his life. It was heartbreaking to see yet another man unable to care for himself and destined to live the way he did. As I shook his hand and told them goodbye, turning to walk away, the lady shouted: “God bless you!”. I turned and smiled, and said “and to you as well!” The lady pointed at the crusty guy and shouted loudly “He don’t believe in God”, to which he turned and started yelling “Aaaaw yes I do, I just say that to make you mad woman!!!”.
I walked away to the sound of a huge argument occurring behind me, laughing all the way to the van, sharing the story with Kim as we drove out and onto the long, long road back to Texas.