After a long sit in the hot tub a a few advil, I awoke the next morning very refreshed and almost excited to get on the road again...until I saw the temperature...
....yes, that says 19 degrees! I couldn't believe it myself so I stopped and started the bike a few times but it really was that cold. The great thing about the Gunnison, Colorado area is that even though it was cold enough to freeze even my hot-blooded butt to the seat, it was a very dry chill. So really, it didn't feel much under 35 degrees once I got moving. That's still cold, but doable.
The plan was to continue on to Grand Junction to see grammy for a couple hours and then haul ass to Idaho Falls before dark. So I got scootin'....unfortunately, five miles out of town the oil light came on. I had checked the oil when it was parked and it looked good, so it made me think there might be a major problem or the bike has issues with cold weather. I was still hundreds of miles away from my destination for the day so I decided not to take any chances and turned around in search of some oil.
After checking the second gas station for Mobile 1 oil, the attendant directed me to the nearest Wal-Mart. It was weird...I was the only customer in the entire store. I have NEVER been the only customer in Wal-Mart on ANY day of the week at ANY time! As I was checking out, the cashier says to me, "Are you having a good Easter?". I had totally spaced the Easter holiday...no wonder nobody was around!
I had blown about an hour before I could get on the road again, and it was close to 9:00 before I finally hit the city limits. I was eager to put some fast miles on to make up the time I'd lost with the oil shenanigans, and wouldn't you know it...I came up hot on a city sheriff! I don't know whether it was because it was Easter or he was in a good mood, but I think he took pity on me and turned off to let me continue on with a quicker pace. This was greatly appreciated, because Dark Canyon proved to be the funnest, tightest-wound bit of pavement I'd seen the entire trip!
I was born in Grand Junction (well, Fruita actually...but close enough) and every time I go back I am surprised by how fast this town changes. I realized I had no idea how to get to Grammy's from the south side of town...I'd always come from the North. After some turn-by-turn directions from Mom & Dad through my cell phone stuffed in my helmet, I finally rolled into Grammy & Terry's around 10:30. It was a good visit, with some much-needed real breakfast and coffee. It was good to see them. Since moving from Colorado when I was eight I really only get to see them once a year at best. 10 years prior was the last time I had visited them, which was a road trip Joyce and I took when we were still dating.
Grammy and Terry were surprised when I said I couldn't stay, and I wish I could have but I had to get to Idaho Falls (IF) by the end of the day. It was already 12:00 and I was running out of time. Terry even said, "Ahhh...you'll never make it...". Anybody who knows me will tell you I am a stubborn little shit, and I take challenges very seriously...and this sounded like a challenge! So off I went!
The hours on the bike and lack of sleep had started taking it's toll and I started to get a little paranoid about getting nabbed for speeding. Every state's trooper vehicles look different, and Colorado's are the smartest I've seen. The beige color seems to blend in with the desert/puckerbush color and make it damn near impossible to spot from a distance, or at least further than their nasty little speed-guns. I stopped for a quick 5-hour energy shot, and within 20 minutes I was wide awake rockin' out to my tunes streakin' along I-70. I took some pointers from Terry and decided to take highway 6/191 to Price, Utah. This is a two-lane highway with a speed limit of 55 (I think) and would cut considerable time off the trip as long as the snow had melted off Soldier Summit. It is on the top-10 most dangerous roads in the U.S. though, so I knew I also had to be careful.
Unbeknownst to me, there is a 4x4 meet at Moab every Easter Sunday...and this year was no exception. This was a blessing and a curse...a curse because there were hundreds of huge motorhomes and trucks hauling 4x4's at what seemed to be a snails pace. It was a blessing because I was riding a 5-foot long rocket on wheels! I stopped counting how many diesel-bellowing rigs I passed because I was just having too much fun weaving around them, sometimes three or four at a time. Boy was I glad I was on this bike and not a V-twin cruiser...It would have taken me all day to get to Salt Lake!
Soldier Summit in the Uinta National Forest was next. The desert landscape with huge rock formations and beautiful hues of reds and oranges abruptly transformed to deep canyons with sweeping curvy roads accompanied with cooler air and higher elevations. It would have been relaxing, if not for the 4x4 rigs coming from Moab...and the crazy Utah jackass drivers at the helms. I am NOT kidding! These huge rigs would take their sweet time at 35 mph on two-lane highway when nobody could pass, just to bellow massive dark clouds of hydrocarbons while racing each other at the passing lanes. And there I was on my little 5-foot rocket. It was scary. Suddenly I felt very small and vulnerable around these huge death-traps...like a little Chihuahua playing fetch with dozens of Great Danes, Mastiffs, and Wolf Hounds. There were a few rigs that would round corners so fast the would be almost tipping over...I had to back off in fear of getting squished like a bug!
It didn't stop there...no...why would I think that? Salt Lake's interstate was it's normal SNAFU self. It seems that there is always some kind of on-going construction to make it just that much more interesting driving with the already-psychotic drivers that Utah is famous for putting on the road. And now add the drivers that are hauling barely-legal rigs back from Moab, which they probably do twice a year. Nope...I am really not a fan of Utah drivers...or Salt Lake City. If there was a fast way around it I would have taken it. By far, the stint beginning at Soldier Summit and ending at the north border of Salt Lake City was the most stressful part of the trip. I cannot stress how much I hated it...avoid Salt Lake City at all costs! I would have thought Easter Sunday would have been a little better, but I don't think they celebrate that holiday...
Really, the rest of the ride was uneventful...I made up some good time in north Utah and southeast Idaho. I exited Pocatello around dusk and only had to ride in the dark the last 40 miles or so to IF. It was around 9:00 when I finally rolled into my parent's place and was delighted to see my kiddos and wifey again. I was so tired I wasn't even hungry, but forced myself to eat once I realized wine on an empty stomach made me noxious. You'd think I would know better...but I slept like a baby that night! Here's a track of the last day:
Looking back, it was crazier than it felt while I was planning it. Buying a bike un-seen and riding it back halfway across the nation alone is not something I'll be doing again...but I've done it! I feel like I used up a lot of karma on this escapade and realize just how many times something really bad could have happened. But I now know my limits better than most other riders, and know what it takes to ride long distances. There are already some rider-comfort modifications planned for the FJR, but it is an amazing machine just the way it is too.
This is the end of the adventure...the next day I loaded the bike onto the trailer behind the CRV for the drive home. I would show you a photo of just how ridiculously-loaded the car was, but it appears the wifey deleted to photo. To give you an idea though, we hauled the FJR and a CRF100 on the trailer behind the CRV with two kids and all the crap that goes along with traveling with them. I'm certain we were over the load rating of the car. I was amazed, not only with the CRV but my awesome packing skills! I will note...we only got 12-16 mpg on the way home. We usually average 24 on the highway! Cheers!
