There was nothing to keep me in Rifle this morning, so I got up, showered, loaded up and hit the road. As I was packing the bike, I noticed a young chap (maybe 20ish) in firemans garb, with the badge of our local Bailey fire crew on display. He was part of a crew that had come over from Bailey to help fight a fire near Rifle, and was heading for breakfast before going back to the fire.
About an hour down the Motorway is Grand Junction. I am not sure that I would agree with the full title, but anything is better than “Rifle”. I did see a few questionable places today though – Parachute (as mentioned last night), Sulfur, Antimony and Koosharem (though I kinda liked the last one).
Anyway, Grand Junction is home to the Pufferbelly Station Restaurant, who serve a might fine breakfast. When one orders breakfast in any diner in the US, you usually get asked what side you want with it – toast, waffles, biscuit (kind of like a scone, but shit) or similar. Todays choice included “cinnamon”, and upon inquiry, I learned that it was a cinnamon bun. Being a fan of cinnamon (and of many buns, to be fair) I chose that option. It arrived way before my breakfast, and was the size of small house. It was also covered with icing that probably contained the average Europeans annual sugar content. Only in America. Disappointingly, the bun was not very good, and though I felt bad for discarding enough calories to feed an Ethiopian village for a month, I only ate about 2.5 % of the bun – which was probably still more sugar than I usually eat in a week.
Other than being mind-boggled by my bun, the rest of the visit was perfectly fine (though the diner, like most, did not serve proper coffee), and I went back out to tackle the motorway once more much satisfied with my personal fuelstop. About half of todays journey was eating more I-70 miles. The speed limit in much of Colorado was 75 mph, which became 80 mph once I crossed the border into Utah, so the time passed pretty quickly.
The morning had heated up pretty quickly, so by the time I stopped at Green River to fuel up not long before the route I had chosen was going to take me off the motorway (finally!!) it was 32 degrees C, at around 1130 in the morning. Fortunatley I had invested in some new gear for this ride – a mesh jacket that lets a lot of air flow through, a new and much more modern pair of biker jeans, and a backback water thingy that you fill with water and ice and it stays cold all day – and has a tube to drink from so I can take ice cold sips while riding. A lifesaver today, for sure.
I turned south onto Utah 24, finally leaving the big highway for the day, and headed into, well, pretty much nowhere. Desolate desert is waht I rode through for an hour- though (pleasingly) I passed a state park called Goblin Valley. I didn’t see any goblins, but just the idea of it amused me.
After 50 or 60 miles, the 24 swung west, and took me through a stunning national park, Capitol Reef. Adorned with intersting and odd-shaped rock walls, colours that varied from bright red to dull grey, and visited by riding through a narrow, winding canyon, it was a treat. Those that have been to UItah will understand my reference to an alien landscape, and this certainly fitted the bill.
The park crosses a monocline, which is a geological wrinkle in the earth – wikipedia states thusly “A monocline fold is a geological structure where rock layers are bent in one direction, creating a step-like fold with a single dipping limb, while the surrounding layers remain relatively horizontal or gently dipping. Essentially, it’s a “one-sided fold”. “
Anyway – whatever you call it, it is a stunning bit of geological beauty. passing out the other side of the park, the road returned to the standard desert-ish starkness – in itself a wonderful way to see nature. The road headed west-ish, and dark skies lay ahead. Not dark rain clouds, unfortunately, but the ashy grey sky indicative of a large fire ahead.
There is a fire in the Monroe Canyon, which is currently raging, and has already claimed 72,000 acres. The whole sky in the direction of the fire was dark, and visibility was somewhat murky in places. was turning south again at a town called Koosharem, and rode parallel to the destroyed area for a while, passing the fire command point, which had a tented camp set up for the firefighters, and I saw quite a lot of equipment headed to or from the hills. Scary thing, when a wildfire takes hold.
Moving beyond the grey skies and ash, i once again found myself in the middle of nowhere. The road was pretty much deserted, and the last 60 or so miles of my ride was in complete isolation – I didn’t see another car or traveler for most of the way. I was a bit stressed towards the latter stage of my ride, as the fuel gauge was running low, and the “fill up your tank, you idiot” light came on about 30 miles before the point at which I would find a gas station. I did manage fine though, and pulled in to Bryce Canyon City (not a city!!) to fill up, and then ride across the road to my accommodation for the night.
This place is a little more civilised than Rifle. There are tourists from all over here (I heard German, Dutch, French, Hebrew and one of the Scandi’s, as well as both US and UK English), and it is a pretty staging town for entry to Bryce Canyon itself, which is supposedly a marvel. I don’t think I will have time to visit, but need to make sure we do get here one day.
The hotel had an (indoor) pool, which I visited to soak my overheated bones. A general store was woth a visit, full of curios, camping gear, outdoor clothing, some groceries, and enough types of beef jerky to open a shop on it’s own called “the house of a thousand jerkys” or “Jerkys R Us” or similar. I didn’t find anything to spend my money on, except a bottle of water, though I may venture back for a quick visit as my flip flops are unwearable. I had forgotten this fact when I packed them (they had been languishing at the bottom of my cupboard for years), chosen this time for space conservation instead of my Crocs. Once I wore them to visit the pool though, I remembered why I had abandoned them to the cupboard of despair. They rub between my big and 2nd toe so badly that the skin was raw just from the walk from my room to the pool. I am going to leave them here, and hopefully someone who has different-shaped toe gaps will find them and love them.
I had just had a not-terrible meal at the hotel restaurant, am now typing this before I fall alseep – though I think I will quickly venture back to the store to see if they have flip flops that are not made by local orphan blind leatherworkers (which would be selling at exorbitant fees), before tucking myself up in bed and sleeping the sleep of the just (who have also just ridden almost 390 miles in the blazing sun.
G’night all y’all – see you tomorrow (I will be reporting from Las Vegas, but don’t hold that against me please – I did not choose the location).