Vegas 2025

So – after missing out on a tour last summer, due to my broken shoulder/surgery (a nasty ski accident) – I am getting ready for a long trip again. My work is hosting a 4-day workshop for people from the revenue and customer-facing teams, and with a global population, they decided to hold it in Las Vegas.

It is the off season in Las Vegas, and for very good reason. The forecast for next week is horrendous. For those of you who operate in Fahrenheit, look away now – but for those of you who have a proper education, here is next weeks forecast for Las Vegas:

Because it is the off season, I assume we got a decent deal, which was probably key in choosing the location because we have around 100 folk turning up from all over the world to participate. I am looking forward to the week, becasue I will be able to hang out with a lot of the key folk – many of whom I have not even met yet – and get to know them much better.

Anyway – I need to be in Vegas on Sunday evening, and can start to travel back on Friday morning, so I opted for the open road, my motorbike, scorching heat and some time alone inside my helmet.

I leave home tomorrow afternoon after work. I am 80% packed, so will be doing bits of prep, faffing and final packing in between work through the day, and then hit the road just in time for the horrid summer weekend Friday mountain traffic. I have planned out my routes to and fro, and wanted to get a start on Friday eve and put some miles on the clock. Vegas is 760 miles away if you take the motorway, and a lot more if you don’t, so the “to” part of this ride is going to be more compressed. I have planned a much more scenic route on the return journey, passing through some familiar and some less familiar roads, passes and areas, and am looking forward to that.

My “to” ride is not dreadful, but am starting out with a long motorway stretch just to get some miles done, leaving me with a bit more time on Saturday afternoon and Sunday to enjoy more suitable roads and scenery.

Day Start	Day End	Mileage
1 – Bailey, CO	Rifle, CO	190 miles
2 – Rifle, CO	Bryce Canyon, UT	376 miles
3 – Bryce Canyon, UT	Las Vegas, NV	256 miles
	Outbound Journey	822 miles
Soujourn in the city of sin	5 nights in Vegas	All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
9 – Las Vegas, NV	Torrey, UT	389 miles
10 – Torrey, UT	Silverton, CO	360 miles
11 – Silverton, CO	Bailey, CO	271 miles
	Return Journey	1020 miles

I am not a fan of Vegas. I have been 4-5 time, each time for an exhibition or trade show, and as soon as I arrive I can’t wait to leave. I am not one for casino’s, and the superficial, sugary bling bling of the strip is the opposite of what appeals to me. Nonetheless, a couple of thousand miles on the bike, and a good few days with colleagues doing good work is much to anticipate.

I intend to do my usual reporting from the road, so stay tuned.

Sometime you have to wonder about those intrepid enough to pioneer and explore. You’d think that they had plenty of imagination, what with packing up their belongings in an ox-drawn, canvas covered wagon and trekking westwards over the mountains. The folk who founded the town where I am staying tonight obviously had little to no imagination – they called the town Rifle. I guess it could be worse – there is a town several miles further down the highway called Parachute!

Anyway, here I am, tucked up in bed and making notes from the day. I finished work, loaded up, faffed and pottered, and left home just after 3pm. My route today was pretty boring – except for the first part. About 15 miles from home is Guanella pass, which I ascended, crossed over the continental divide, and motored down the other side of Mt Blue Sky and Mt Bierstadt down to Georgetown.

Guanella is a pretty pass, not to challenging but with a few good hairpins. It is so close to home that I am very familiar with it, and am always happy to take this road over to join the I70, the major US Motorway running East-West, from Utah to Maryland.

I stopped in Georgetown for a quick refuel and a comfort break, and then hopped onto the highway heading west. The traffic was not great up to the Eisenhower tunnel – about 15 miles = but it was slow enough that I could filter through the two lanes of traffic, so I wasn’t held up too much.

Once through the tunnel the traffic cleared, and it was aclear 2 hour run along the rather pretty (for a highway, that is) road that crests various peaks and passes through some lovely steep canyons while riding alongside fast-runnig rivers. The traffic remained clear until about 10 miles from my destination, when an accident had slowed things down significantly – but once again I zooted through the two lanes of traffic and got past it all without too much hassle.

I have not sen much of Rifle, to be fair, but the lack of imagination evident in the towns name seems to have spilled over into everything else to do with the town. It is flat, hot and in need of a good scrub. Still, my motel was not terrible, there wasa rib joint 5 minutes walk away, and the airconditioning works well, so I am comfortable and ready to drift off to sleep.

A long and hot day coming up tomorrow, so I will say g’night, and catch you tomorrow night.

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).

833 miles from home to Las Vegas

When I woke up this morning, it was 11c – which is rather cool for me thus far on my ride. However (spoiler alert) it was 43c when I got to my destination – which was damn hot by any measure (thats 109f).

However, before we get to stories of unbearable heat, lets start back in Bryce. I did my usual pottering and packing, and was rolling before 0800. I had to put on thicker gloves and a layer under my summer jacket, and even then I was a bit too cold once I was riding. However, I didn’t stop to add any more layers, preferring to bank the memories and sensations for later – I knew waht was coming – and so allowed myself to be chilly.

I rode west on highway 12 for about 10 miles or so – passing through Red Canyon, which once more provided wonderful landscapes of deep, dusty red. Where we intersected highway 89, I turned south (well SSE) and rode another 45 minutes ish to a lovely little coffee shop in a small town called Orderville.

I am not much of a fan of the type of coffee served in many diners, which I have previously referred to. No such issue today, the American I had was lovely, a was the breakfast burrito and croissant. I was just in time to watch the lat 20 minutes or so of the Charity Shield between Liverpool and Crystal Palace, and the dissapointing penalty shootout that followed. ’nuff said.

Anyway, while the football was a bit of a downer, breakfast almost made up for it, and I headed back out into the great wide open with a tummy full of food and an anticipation of another day in the saddle. I love time on my own, riding the bike through open country, observing the world, taking in the beauty of nature, and letting my mind find things to contemplate which do not always get space and time.

Maybe half an hour from breakfast and `i was on some nice twisty road approach Zion National Park. I have heard good things, but never been myself, so was looking forward to the experience. I am 99.9% a Parks kind of person, and 0.00000000000001% a Vegas person. Maybe even less, Vegas-wise. Anyway, Utah never disappoints with its parks, and so I was ready, without any real expectation, having deliberately not researched the park.

It was quite warm by the time I entered the park, but not unpleasant, and so I stopped to check the map, adjust my attire, and bimbled (the official term for slow, easy riding, making sure to leave plenty of time for observation of ones surroundings while still having time to ride safely) off into the park. Immediately, the alien landscape began, spectacular in both appearance and scale.

The first interesting site was the Checkerboard Mesa. Geological and weather conditions scored horizontal and vertical lines across the faces of this large mesa, giving the appearance of a squared playing board – hence the name. Quite unusual – but, as I was soon to learn, just one of the many spectacles to behold in this area.

Checkerboard Mesa

Numerous different rock formations shared the path with me, and my thoughts wondered to early times in the earths formation. You really get a sense of the incredibly massive measures of time that have passed on this earth, and the forces that formed, shaped and continuously reshaped the forms. I love the sense of billions of years (well, as much as I can conceive of when it comes to that kind of scale) that we are privileged to witness, appreciate and be in awe of.

Several miles of beautiful geology and I reached a queue of cars. There is only 1 road through the park, so you are sharing it with every other visitor. The queue turned into a 15 minute wait, though while i was waiting, I was not sure what I was waiting for as I could only see about 10 or 15 cars ahead of me, behind a tour bus, and then a corner which was obscured by a large boulder preventing further assessment of the road and queue.

after about 10 minutes wait, a long stream of cars began passing us in the opposite direction, so I realised that there was probably a 1-way system in place to let vehicles through one direction at a time. Finally it became time for our train of vehicles to move, and not too soon, because I was kind of beginning to bake, being sate on a running 1.9 litre engine just inches from my legs in a 32 degree celsius sun. Movement on the bike is the only way of getting airflow to cool you down (though more on this later), and so I was happy to be bimbling once more.

We rounded the obscured corner, and I realised we were entering a tunnel – which was showing 2 lanes, but I assumed experience had taught the park administrators that it was not prudent to let 2-way traffic flow through it. The tunnel is over a mile long, and was leading to a truly amazing set of vistas and sceneries.

Carved into the rock at a few points along the tunnel are large openings, a few meters long, that afford glimpses into what is on the outside of the mountain that you are boring through. And the glimpses show a really high wall of sheer rock, forming a canyon opposite to the tunnel, and adding to the anticipation.

Exiting the tunnel, the views are incredible. A high canyon, closed on 3 sides, opens up to the right, with a set of hairpin bends awaiting a descent to the floor of the canyon. I rode to the first vista point, and snapped a few pictures. 3 large touring Harley Davidsons pulled up, and 3 French couples stopped for the same views I was observing. They had hired the bikes in LA, and were doing agrand tour – and one of them took a few pictures of me with the bike and the canyon in the background.

A few more miles of beautiful twisties, hairpins and vistas, and the road flattened out, and wound more gently through pretty, but less impressive scenery for a few more miles, until I came to the exit of the park. I loved this place, and will be back – Lena and I need to spend more time in Utah!

Exiting Zion, there is a very well manicured and inviting town, Springdale, which obviously serves to support the tourist and services industry relating to the park. It looked nice, and a good place to stay if visiting the area. I rode slowly

About 20 miles or so beyond Springdale lies the major motorway, which connects tothe I-70 some way back, and heads south west-ish from Utah into Nevada, and stretches into California to meet LA. The last 120 miles or so of my trip took me along the I-15 almost to the hotel door.

Before coming to the motorway, I stopped to get some water, a lot of which I used to douse myself just before setting off – the temperature was getting into the late 30s (Centigrade), and the only way to keep cool on the bike is to be wet, and let the evaporation cool you down.

The motorway was quite busy but fast flowing, and so I sped along at 75-80 mph. The landscape was rocky or mountainous desert, largely without any artificial features – no buildings, farms, animals – basically no anything except an increasingly heating desert.

As I moved further south – and as the day continued to heat up, the temperatures continued to rise. I stopped twice more to pour a bottle of cold water over myself, but even then the relief did not last long. within 30 minutes of being on the motorway it was over 40 degrees, and the air was actually hot. It felt like I was riding into a furnace. The expereince was not pleasant at all, but fortunately only lasted 90 minutes or so overall on the motorway, before I was leaving the highway and riding the last mile up to the hotel.

Riding onto the huge (it is the worlds 2nd largest hotel) property, I found the parking garage, found the bike parking, and very gratefully got off the bike, looking forward to a cold shower. I checked in, schlepped miles across the hotel – walking through a major casino area littered with folk who were either throwing their money away, or deliberately unaware of their surroundings and getting in my way. I didn’t punch anyone, but it was sooo tempting.

Anyway, I finally got to the room, was able to unpack, have a good wash and start to cool down. Here is the final picture of the “out” leg of the journey, in my hotel room before I was fully settled.

We will see you on the way back home, starting Friday 15th in the morning.

Work was good, I can’t say the same for the town – but I hardly ventured out, so I can say I mostly avoided it. The hotel we stayed in was huge – the 2nd largest in the world – and there was enough of a throng of humanity in all the public spaces to keep me away from there as much as possible.

Anyway, I survived it, appreciate the time with colleagues and the great work we covered, and was very happy to leave.

Not to early to bed, early to rise, makes something or other – or so the saying goes. Anyway, I was up early, did my final faffing and packing and getting ready to leave. The sun was just coming up, and I captured the view from my hotel room.

I was down in the parking area before 7, but it took about 20 minutes of packing, relocating, adjusting and re-adjusting before I was ready to roll, so as Big Ben struck whatever the equivalent of 0714 in Nevada is, I rolled back onto the road to begin the journey back home.

I wanted to get an early-ish start, before the temperatures got out of hand. It was 43c when I arrived, and wanted to be far away before those types of temperatures prevailed. Still, it was pretty warm – 28c at 0714 in the morning. The hotel was close to the motorway, so in a matter of a few minutes I was on the I-15, heading north (and slightly east-ish). I enjoyed the feeling of putting some distance between myself and the city of sin, I can tell you.

The roads weren’t too busy at that time and I passed through the outskirts relatively quickly. About 45 minutes later, I took an exit road, and headed towards the Valley of Fire. About 10 or so miles of very very desolate road later, I arrived at the Valley of Fire State Park southern entrance, paid my fee and rode into the reserve.

The Valley gets its name from the red sandstone formations that line this part of the Moapa Valley. The colour is strikingly red, but there are lots of greys, whites and burnt-orange colours too. Some of the layered rocks are unbelievable. I made a couple of stops, to see some petroglyphs that are 4,000 years old, and some of the amazing stone formations/colours.

The park was not that big, and a few miles on I came out the other side, riding on eastwards to the UT 169, where I turned northwards. I stopped in Overton for breakfast (decent, nice coffee), and then continued until I rejoined the I-15 about 15 minutes later.

I did about 90-120 minute run on the big highway, eating up some miles. It was warming up, but nothing too horrendous and the high-speeds were helping keep me cool. As long as the outside temperature is lower than body temperature, it helps. The I-15 passes through a corner of Arizona, so I said hello, and about 40 minutes later was in Utah.

I left the highway at a town called Cedar City, where a fuel stop awaited. I also filled my water bottles, ready for some sparser roads. A couple of place names caught my eye today. One was Carp, but my favourite – maybe my favourite of the whole trip – was a speck on the map called Browse. Go figure.

The UT 14 runs east from Cedar City, and passes through Cedar Canyon- another wonderful, imposing monument to the ages. I love the geological features in this part of the world – they are so raw, and emanate with the very very old soul of this planet.

The route twisted, climbed, cooled and lowered me gently back down to where the 14 meets the 89, which I turned onto, now proceeding northbound. Another isolated road, quiet and gentle – still pretty, but the scenery was not nearly as imposing as some of the other desert I had passed through. I was soon re-tracing my steps from the outbound journey, and joined the road that I I ridden out of Bryce Canyon on. As I was passing through another beautiful set of red stone, the Red Canyon, the skies blessed me with a rather heavy downpour.

Having largely boiled myself on the outbound journey, and certainly had cooked myself to at least a medium-rare in the morning, to be wet and cool was wonderful. Well – for a bit. The rain was quite heavy and was hitting my face hard enough to sting, even though I had slowed down somewhat. It continue for about 15-20 minutes, by which time I was largely soaked.

The sky stayed quite overcast for the afternoon, but fortunately did not rain on me again – though I passed along a number of very wet roads. The route that i rode was another wonderful presentation of desert rock formations, canyons, high walls, the odd arch/window in the rock, and some great vistas. The road was not often straight, either, so I had a really nice and gentle, cool ride for much of the afternoon.

The last hour was a little less pleasant, because the road was recently paved, and had not only received a lot of rain but also was rather steep and twisty in many places, so I felt a bit uncertain about my traction. I slowed down a fair bit, and had a cool, damp and gentle trundle until I arrived in Torrey, where I am staying tonight. This place is a small motel, but has a number of covered wagons that one can rent instead of a room (which I chose not to do).

Most of my gear, other than my boots and socks, were dry. I hope the boots are dry by the morning – but its not like I have a choice about wearing them tomorrow, dry of otherwise.

My ride today lasted 10 hours and 400 miles – the longest of the trip. I was happy to arrive here. The motel also has a reasonable restaurant, so I ate dinner, spoke to Lena, added some air tot he bikes tires, and wrote my blog. Now I can go to sleep.

Tomorrow is largely another new route for me, but I am staying in a familiar spot tomorrow evening. Night night, see ya later.

It was rather cool when I got up this morning, so I wore my layer and put my rain liner into my jacket – plus I put on my all-weather gloves. I didn’t struggle with the cold on the bike, but I did need the protection.

Not far out, I went the opposite direction through the Capitol Reef park that I had passed through on the way to Vegas. It was nice to see the views from the other direction. I stopped to look at the petroglyphs there.

The carvings are around 1,000 to 1,300 years old. The oneds that look like aliens are very interesting, and the bighorn sheep are instantly recognisable.

Breakfast was in Hanksville (nice burrito, poor coffee). After breakfast, I reoved the rain-lining from my jacket and then rode southeast along UT95, and saw hardly another soul. More wonderful desertscapes, canyons and interesting rock formations. It was really liberating to have the road to myself for the best part of 120 miles, and I loved the session.

I finished my lonesome trail, and joined a slightly more populous road south to Bluff, which I visit a few years ago with my parents. from here I too a new road (161) east, looking forward to what I hoped would be more isolation. Unfortunately, there were a number of stretches of roadwork, where the tarred road had been fully removed, and i had to ride on gravel, which is no fun on a heavy bike like mine. One stretch lasted a good few miles in the beating sun, and though I survived intact (as did the bike), I did not enjoy that part of the trip.

After some more long and lonely rides, I joined the 160 at Cortez, and followed the road for about an hour, until I got to Durango. The day had heated up significantly, and I was down to my usual hot summer wear.

Durango is where the US 550 start – one of my favourite roads ever. I took a north bearing onto the 550, passed through Durango,and started the long climb up Coal Bank pass. It got really cool – the pass is over 10,000 feet in elevation, but i enjoyed the lower temps after having sufficiently boiled myself later in the morning. Over the top and starting down the other side, there were a few bits of roadwork – fortunately no gravel, but some lane closures where we had to wait for a traffic light system to let opposing streams of traffic through. Nothing terrible, and I enjoyed the descent, passing through some lovely hairpins and wonderful views.

I arrived at my hotel in Silverton around 4:40 this afternoon, unpacked and showered, had a stroll and then went to my favourite Silverton pub – the Handlebar – for dinner.

I am back now from overeating, finishing off this blog post and trying to stay awake so I can speak to Lena before I crash.

Tomorrow is my last day of this trip. I am starting it with a favourite ride – over the million dollar highway to Ouray, where I aim to stop for breakfast. I will see you there.

Last day today. I woke up early – excited for riding the million dollar highway, and excited to be getting home. Silverton was more than cool – it was 5C (41f), which is not warm in anyones book. I got ready, and put on all my layers, then dragged my stuff down 3 floors (there were no elevators in this grand old hotel) and got myself and the bike ready to roll for our final chapter of this trip.

My pre-breakfast ride was only 23 miles – but it took almost an hour. Red Mountain pass separates Ouray from Silverton, the stretch of road is known as the Million Dollar highway. There are various postulations as to the names origin, but my favourite, which was once told to me by a local, is that locals would not drive the highway in winter, not even for a million dollars.

It was cold indeed as I wound my way up the pass. When eventually I reached a level where the sun was shining, I pulled over to the side of the road and sat warming my bones for 5 minutes before continuing on. The ride up is nice, but nothing super-special. However, the descent from the summit down into Ouray is wonderful. The twists, hairpin bends, sheer drops, vertical rock faces, steep grades and the possibility of wildlife leaping onto the road make the ride exhilarating and rewarding in equal measure. A fair portoin og he descent was bathed in sunshine, warming me up as well, so I really loved the way down.

Breakfast was not bad at all – coffee and food – and the first time I had actually stopped in Ouray itself. The cafe was cheerful, busy and had friendly staff. I ate, drank, warmed up and then went back to it.about 35 miles further north, i took an easterly direction and headed across towards the Black Canyon, the Blue Mesa dam and Gunnison. The riding was pleasant and uneventful, and at Gunnison I aimed north and then east to head up to another favourite, Cottonwood Pass.

On the ride through the forest towards the pass, I noticed some movement on the road, and quickly recognised it as a black bear. I slowed quickly to a halt, and the bear looked at me for a second before quickly climbing up the steep bank to my right. It climbed about 15 meters or so, then stopped to watch me watching it. We watched in silence for a minute or so, then I said my farewells and continued on my way.

The pass of Cottonwood is not nearly as challenging or exhilarating as the Million Dollar, but it is pleasant, and presents some lovely views. There was even a few tine bits of snow/ice remaining at the summit.

The pass deposits one into Buena Vista, which is about 90 minutes from home. I stopped for a snack lunch – unusual for me when I am on the road, as I don’t usually have any kind of lunch at all – then fueled up the bike, and blasted my way back through Sunday afternoon mountain traffic.

I arrived home to a happy wife and two very excited doggies. I accepted the OTT licking and sniffing til they calmed down, then unloaded, and went in to start reversing the process of going on a trip. Most things are packed away now, the washing is on, the bike is clean and in the garage, and I am tired and ready to sleep. Back to normal routine tomorrow.

Thanks for following the trip. My outward journey was 834 miles, the return was 1054 miles. Another wonderful trip, another time of solace and solitude, and a wonderful opportunity to experience the geological splendours and beauties of this confusing country. G’night all.