A local BMW club sponsor several camping weekends, as well as an annual summer rally, around the State of Washington. This weekend is the last one of the year, being held in the more arid part of central WA state near the ancient Dry Falls. This unique geological feature is the result of an ice age dam bursting its debris bank and flooding an area from central Montana to the west coast. At one time the Dry Falls became ten times larger than Niagara Falls in upstate New York, as accumulated water raged across the landscape, reportedly, 1500 metres high.

Given that it wasn't so long ago, in the scheme of things, whether any natives stood atop a craggy bluff, of a sunny morning, releasing their wake-up stream into the wind, only to see and hear a much larger stream roiling and bubbling rapidly their way? I shall investigate.

I leave Friday morning for a four hour ride to the destination on the other side of the Cascade Range.

Beyond that, I seek two lane roads from the Pacific Northwest to the sunny desert South West, for my annual autumn migration, following the scent of roasting Hatch green chile. It's a simple pleasure to watch them slow roll the plump green chiles, in a metal mesh cage, often over a gas flame, until their skin is crispy and one of earth's heavenly scents fills the nostrils. Choose your own level of spice (heat).

I'll be gone for two or three weeks.

"At the end of the last Ice Age, 18,000 to 15,000 years ago, an ice dam in northern Idaho created Glacial Lake Missoula stretching 3,000 square miles around Missoula, Montana. The dam burst and released flood waters across Washington, down the Columbia River into Oregon before reaching the Pacific Ocean."

Some time ago the story of Missoula Lake caught my eye and off I went down the research rabbithole. I found the geological aspects of it - how it formed the lake and then reformed the modern landscape - absolutely fascinating.

I s'pose nearly every culture has their great flood. I'm curious about their Noah.

Instead of hanging round with the dozen-odd Beemer riders who made it to the Dry Falls state park for a second night, I departed by ten o'clock Saturday morning. The weather was beautiful, never cold or dewy at night, sunny and warm days, only a light breeze with some gusts, and a terrific star/meteor show on Friday night due to minimal earth glow ruining the night skies.

I rolled down into eastern Oregon and visited friends just over the Idaho border. The next night, after dropping down through western Idaho, I made Ely, Nevada in hugely frustrating southerly headwinds. My mileage dropped from 43 US mpg, down to 37 mpg at one stage. I did manage 48 mpg on the AZ to NM stretch.

Another night later, all on lonesome-ish two lane highways (75 mph speed limits out there) I managed to arrive at Tuba City, Arizona. Tuba in Hopi means pine tree. Besides sage and scrub, there's a load of small, rugged pine scrambling for a meaningful life in that beautifully arid place north of the Grand Canyon.

I made Corrales, New Mexico by Tuesday arvo with a blowy and torrential thunderstorm nipping for 50 miles at my back wheel. It only splashed me once or twice at 90 mph. 80 mph speed limits out there. 

Taco Tuesday occurs each week at a brewpub and it was good to catch up on my yearly visit with old friends. The only issue was the Xenon low beam functioned intermittently, keeping me from night time riding. Not a bad thing in a land of deer and antelope playing across the Navajo rez. I sourced a replacement locally. BMW want $300, I found one (German made) for $74. There are Amazon/eBay versions for $30 but you get what you pay for. The original had lasted for 102,500 miles.

More pictures when I can get time to edit them, but here's a few. I'll hang out in the Albuquerque area for four more days then take a leisurely five day ride back to the Pacific North Wet.

Happy Autumnal (or Vernal) Equinox to one and all, the (astrological) start to another season

Two Wheels Better wrote:beautifully arid place north of the Grand Canyon.

That is an excellent and spot-on description. We did Lee's Ferry to Phantom Ranch on the river down Marble Canyon and the Grand Canyon in 2003. It was such a relief to get totally away from any semblance of the modern world (save for the emergency radio!) for three days. I'd post a pic but it's a bike forum.

After eighteen days' travel I am back home in the Pacific North West, fond memories of the Dry Falls campout fading. The >4,200 mile (6,700+ km) long ride was as expected, awesome, even though I ride to the Albuquerque area once or twice a year. My route took me south along Oregon's eastern border to south western Idaho, where I dropped into Nevada and rode the Great Basin down to the dusty little gambling town of Ely, elevation 6,339' (1,932m). From there I crossed into Utah just north of St George where it was 104f/40c degrees, then east across the top of the Grand Canyon's north rim in Arizona. Once through the Navajo rez, the largest in the US, encompassing large parts of Arizona, Utah and the state of New Mexico's territory, I headed east towards the metropolis of Albuquerque, New Mexico's largest city, stopping on the west side of the Rio Grande in Corrales. 

A massive wind and rain storm followed me for many miles in Nevada's Great Basin, propelling me towards the comfort and safety of a motel room in Ely.

A rider can expect to wear his tyre's centre tread flat in no time at speed on many rare-curve Nevada roads. The frequent mountain passes make up for it.

The Hopi rez is contained within the boundaries of the Navajo rez (Dine, their self-given name, meaning, The People), and the WWII-era Codetalker Memorial Highway alternates between the Navajo and the Hopi as one travels along. The names of the 'towns' vary as the two languages spoken are not similar. In case it's not universally known, apparently, the Japanese couldn't get a handle on the radio languages being used by the allies in the Pacific. The Navajo and the Hopi soldiers successfully kept 'em guessing for the duration.

Snow Canyon State Park in Utah is a marvel of colour and wind sculptured shape.


A random need for a rest stop produced this marvel, where hardly a sign pointed the way to its stark beauty. Picnic benches and shade pines abounded. It went on for many hundreds of metres. I don't recall the name of the place, but it's north of Snow Canyon, in Nevada.

My first (distant) sighting of the miles-long Vermilion Cliffs in over 25 years.

A rock 'house' nestled beneath massive boulders at the base of Vermilion Cliffs. The nearby village is known as Cliff Dwellers.

The Navajo Footbridge over the Colorado River near Lees Ferry. In the 1930s it was the car and truck route. Now there's a massive, two-lane version of it just to the south and this one is for the tourists to walk across.



Looking back to where I've just ridden across desolate Arizona state highway 164 near Shongopovi on Hopi land, with curves in the right places.

A current sign of Navajo humour.

My first stop upon landing was to meet long-time mate Tommo for a frosty 'Walk the Bine' at Ex Novo Brewery in beautiful, dusty, downtown Corrales, New Mexico. Tacos with Hatch, New Mexico green chiles (not spelt chillies) were not far away from here.

The next week was spent eating fresh green chiles or green and red chile stew every day, and frankly, drinking too much, but at least we mixed it up between tequila, gin and local brews each night. The locals were out harvesting pinyon seeds, also known as pine nuts. More as my forum picture editing fingers straighten out.

Passed under the Navajo footbridge while on the river. That's a good pic of the Vermillion Cliffs - it's exactly how we saw them on the way from Flagstaff to Lees Ferry.

Come to think of it, we were probably on the same road, except that we were in a minibus.

Dai wrote:Passed under the Navajo footbridge while on the river. That's a good pic of the Vermillion Cliffs - it's exactly how we saw them on the way from Flagstaff to Lees Ferry.

Come to think of it, we were probably on the same road, except that we were in a minibus.

From "Flag" you would have driven north on AZ 89 to Bitter Springs and headed west over the bridge to Lees Ferry. My view is from AZ 89A and comes in from the west near the Canyon's north rim via Jacob Lake then down to Marble Canyon at Lees Ferry. As you will likely recall, the expanse is so great out there that one can view the scene from a few angles and have it seem similar. These tiny android phone images don't really capture the grandeur of it, do they?! The detail gets lost in the immensity. 

We do our best with what we've got. If only I had brought along the early 1950s era, German-made 35mm Voightlander camera that my dear departed dad gave to me forty-odd years ago, and which he bought during his stint as a postal clerk on a US base in Stuttgart during the Korean war. Lucky bugger for not digging trenches in what's now North Korea.

Some more images.

Lees Ferry Lodge, where a very starry night was spent. The Milky Way lit up right across the middle of the night sky.

The local tavern was the hub of the community for a few hours that night. The pool table had barely enough elbow room for the cue. The only available food (quite good, that Indian frybread with salad atop it) was 5 miles east down near the footbridge at the Colorado River. Riding back on the bike in 90f degree heat just before dark wearing NO HELMET (but sunnies) was a minor thrill I have no need to repeat. Arizona, like many western and mid-western states, couldn't care less if you wear a protective hat unless you're 18 or under.


The North Rim of the Grand Canyon at the lodge is surely a sight to behold. Some say it's a better view than from the South Rim. I disagree nowadays, and suspect it's because there are far fewer "turistas" up there due to the added effort to get there. It is grand, for sure, but it doesn't capture the immensity of the south angle. I hadn't been there since the mid-'90s and my memory was as hazy as the view was this day. I met a chatty Pommie bloke from Yorkshire who'd solo walked into the canyon's depth from the south rim to the north. He was elated at being able to do that. He described it as we observed a herd of bison grazing and resting at the roadside, more akin to Yellowstone than the Grand Canyon.

There are areas of prairie which have been deliberately fenced off to keep the bison/buffalo out. The grasses were thicker, stronger, and much healthier in and near those areas, which stands to reason. The beasts, tho' limited in their numbers, do a number on the terrain.



The high altitude (2,694m) changes the foliage colours early, here, aspens known as quaking aspens.

Awesome…thanks TWB for another peak at the glory and majesty of some of the more unspoilt parts of America. I could lose myself very happily in that big space vista for months on end. There is some thing humbling and kinda special about being away from the hustle and bustle of modern life. 

As I look out of my window at suburbia and the agitation of vehicles jostling along the road on their way to work this morning, I can’t help but envy your trip even more. But it’s cool and sunny here and in an hour I’ll be on my bike and riding for the annual pilgrimage to the National Memorial Arboretum in middle England to join 6000+ other riders for the Ride To The Wall tomorrow, so life is not all bad.

Two Wheels Better wrote:I met a chatty Pommie bloke from Yorkshire who'd solo walked into the canyon's depth from the south rim to the north.

I'd guess he walked down Bright Angel Trail from South Rim? We came up it; one hell of a walk, nine miles along and one mile up with California Condors and Turkey Vultures wheeling overhead. Every now and again we'd get passed by a mule train carrying badly overweight Americans. Poor buggers (the mules, not the riders!). There's a water source every 1.5 miles on Bright Angel for most of the year, but I've no idea about North Rim.

We 'put in' on the river at Glen Canyon, so not far from your overnighter at the lodge.

Also 'yes' to the Milky Way. The stars were bright enough to walk around without needing a torch.

Not trying to derail your thread; thank you for bringing back some superb memories

I agree that it's a place to get lost in, and so many good roads through the mountains. The main (the only sealed) road in to the park to the North Rim is a wonder of smoothness and long, fast curves, punctuated by open range, then hypnotising scenery, that is until an Arizona State Trooper coming towards me, clocks the bike at 69 mph, pretends to cut some slack by reducing the ticket actual to 65 mph in a 50 mph zone. That'll be $237, please, but you can take an online "defens(c)ive Driving" course, paying only courts costs (to be determined) and it won't appear on your driving record for insurance purposes. I count myself lucky since I've not had a speeding fine in the US for yonks. I did have one in OZ in 2016 and again in 2018, but those have dropped from my record and the points returned long ago. In the end the only "dramas" on the road were a Xenon low beam bulb failure and the ticket.

Ristras hanging in Albuquerque, the scent of freshly roasting chiles pervading every nook and cranny of my senses. 'Tis the season.

These little bastards, known colloquially as "goat heads," will leave a nasty prick in your foot if you try to get about unshod. I've seen them puncture tyres. One went through the worn down sole of my thong (flip flops, plakkies, chappals or jandals, take yer pick). They're from the family Acanthospermum hispidum, and have gradually shifted from desert regions, around the world. 

Highway 140 from Denio Junction NV to the Oregon border.

The road home was a longer one, less direct than I'd usually take. Door to door it's about 1,450 miles, but this route was closer to 2,000 miles. From southern Nevada across the state on parts of NV Highway 50 - the Loneliest Road...etc - then Winnemucca NV to Denio Junction NV, on the Fremont Highway (140) to Lakeview, Oregon. This road is a long, quiet road with not much traffic, recently re-sealed along most of its length, and flows up and down over hill and mesa through the most magnificent lava fields, a true malpais (badlands). Be sure to obtain fuel before venturing out on it as the only stations are more than 150 miles apart. The bike I rode can cover 240 to 260 miles in a go. I imagine the average Harley Sportster rider with a peanut tank would want to strap a spare jug of guzzline on before departing.

Seemingly endless sage and vistas to the horizon are what you'll encounter frequently. I enjoy the silence. These few days there was little wind so when stopping it was the intense glare of the sun and occasional swirl of vultures circling overhead. I thought I heard a spaghetti western whistle off in the distance once or twice.

Nevada or Oregon, take yer pick of an arbitrary line in the sand. The two-lane highway disappears up and over and around. You can travel at whatever speed you feel comfortable with for many, many miles. On the Nevada side it's posted at 70 mph. A soon as you cross into Oregon it drops to 55 mph. The road surface improves, too. I never saw a patrol car out there. I set the cruise at 75 for most of its distance, getting between 44 mpg (US gallon) and 48 mpg out of the tank. At higher elevations, expect 91 octane (AKI, equivalent to 95 RON) only in larger towns. 92 octane is as rare as rocking horse poo above 4,000 feet of altitude, and your bike doesn't need it anyway. I frequently had a choice of absolute low grade regular 86/7 octane, or diesel. I wondered why the smaller fuel stops couldn't offer midgrade 89 octane to keep "everyone" happy. I s'pose that'd illicit complaints from the locals who'd then be expected to pay a bit extra to keep the super users only somewhat happy with their reduced choice. The stuff of compromise is too much to bear for some, it would seem. I filled as frequently as needed and it never became an issue. The price you pay in comparo to states like Washington and California was very nice. WA state is often a dollar more per gallon.

I paid just $3.189 per (US) gallon in some areas of Arizona and Utah. I know it's incredibly cheap compared to Down Under and Europe.

I eventually arrived at some needed shade and this slowly bubbling stream near Adel, Oregon, and it was a beautiful thing. I was ready for some water and an arse break, to remove a layer of clothing and have a snack. I lingered a while in this tranquil place, only realising later I had plans to make Summer Lake, above Lakeview, Oregon, before too long. In the end I flew to Bend due to Summer Lake being a veritable empty dustbowl, literally. The steady wind raised clouds of salt and sand which could be seen for twenty miles. My nostrils got a shot full and became dried out, my throat parched. The once reedy, lush, and relatively flat lake, was dried up for miles. Fishing shacks stood empty, hundreds and hundred of metres from anything resembling a shoreline. I am not sure if drought or agriculture has wiped out the water. Oregon's own Aral Sea. The last time I saw the lake was in the early summer of 2000 and it was a blue expanse for miles with waterfowl aplenty. Not no more. Here's a snippet from the Google Gods: 
"State records show the springs feeding the lake have been steadily declining ever since people started pumping groundwater to nearby hay farms. State scientists have long believed that agriculture would eventually dry out the springs.Apr 4, 2022"


They're still growing plenty o' hay judging from the farms lining the once lush place. Shit in your own backyard and it will eventually start to stink.
On to Bend.

After a pleasant motel stay in Bend and a load of fairly good Chinese food from Chan's, I'm ready to make that last lunge for home, five and a half hours away. But first, Sisters, Oregon, and the McKenzie Pass lava fields.


I was here last in about 2014. There always seemed to be a fire or roadworks, or I arrived too early or too late in the season. The highway frequently does not open until July due to snowfall from the previous winter.

The lava flows are from eruptions less than 10,000 years ago. Humans would have observed it. It musta been a hell of a sight. A few "islands" of trees and soil called kipukas (from Hawaiian, who would know a thing or two about eruptions) are visible in the middle of the expanse of lava.


Three hours later, I was home. On Monday the 7th I'm riding the 345 miles in one day around the Olympic Peninsula before the rains get heavy and the snow flies. So many roads, so little....

TWB,
thank you for sharing your travels with us.
Great pictures of places I've never heard of before...
(the honorable exception is your father's stint at Stuttgart, GER being a mere 115 mls away from me)

bad boy wrote:TWB,
thank you for sharing your travels with us.
Great pictures of places I've never heard of before...
(the honorable exception is your father's stint at Stuttgart, GER being a mere 115 mls away from me)

I'm glad to introduce you to a few fine places to ride, relax and view amazing scenery. Perhaps one day you'll find yourself exploring those regions. Many do it by walking, some paddle the rivers, and some ride.

My father, a long distance runner from his high school and university days, loved living in southern Germany. He lived on base, was US born (a New Englander), drafted after uni into the army. My mum is the Australian "half" of me, as well as my birth Down Undah. Anyhow, he claimed he would not have survived on the army food, and almost every weekend found himself off-base in some beer hall drinking thick, black stout, eating hard cheese and chewing on dark bread (schwarzbrot) - his description from my memory. He suggested this is what kept him healthy while he trained over the many miles he ran in the Black Forest. He loved to order us (four boys) around in his rudimentary German he picked up whilst there, half-jokingly. When he yelled "roust" or "mach schnell," we knew to get our lazy, teenaged backsides out of bed or otherwise move right that very instant. He passed in 2003, aged just 70-1/2, to the day. We all imagined him being a feisty and argumentative 90 year old, still splitting firewood and building stone chimneys. Most of us know that first important day, and we celebrate it every year. It's the other important day that remains the big mystery.

I never got to visit the places he spoke of, but did explore the region around Berlin, then Leipzig and Dresden, more than several years ago, late 2015, as I recall. I even got to ride there on a Triumph Bonneville, shod with Conti TKC80 tyres, in the snow!

Regarding that velocity award I earnt whilst travelling into the Grand Canyon's North Rim...I was given the option of signing up for a Defensive Driving (sic) course accredited by the state of Arizona, in order for the ticket not to appear on my driving record or be submitted to my insurance company. I went to the local Arizona court's website, was redirected to a site that listed at least two dozen independent businesses that offer a standard course, all at wildly varying prices, mind you, but none much less than the cost of the violation itself. I searched through several of them until I found one that 'fit the bill.' 

Four and a half hours later I emerged, bleary eyed, from staring at my laptop screen, my wallet only $59 lighter less than the price of the fun ticket. It was a lot of reading, much of it extremely dull as though boring us to death will make us better drivers/riders, countdown timed so you get the fully allotted time, then truly simple, multiple choice questions which if you got wrong, you could try again - too bloody easy. The constant typos and poor grammar - and obvious translations from other languages - to someone who spots that sh*t first before grasping the sentence fully, made for frustrating reading. It was amusing to read in an American site that I must keep my open alcohol containers "in the boot" of my car rather than the trunk. No mention of what to do with the bullets of my concealed handgun.

My wallet thanks you and my insurance company won't be the wiser, and no fronting a magistrate or judge in court, all 'yes, your honour,' and 'no, you honour.' Job done. That wasn't like being on the receiving end of the rough end of a pineapple at all.


Now, I must remind myself to slow down keep an extra eye open for the coppers.

TWB
I am sorry to read of your velocity award.

It's happened to me as well in 2018, the fine being the equivalent of some US$ 200 and me considering myself being a lucky guy as the fine wasn't registered anywhere and my machine was not being seized by the authorities. It completely spoiled the mood of the three weeks to come after being flashed, though: It happened on the first weekend of my holidays and the weather was sunny all the time. Not funny at all.

Those draconic measures taken in Switzerland and the overcrowded roads every day of the week certainly attributed to me loosing the thrill last year.

On a recent ride up to the Scottish Highlands, I experience the most evil device ever conceived…average speed cameras installed on fast open twisty roads, not just in road works as is common in the rest of the UK. 

I like to think I ride and drive with maximum attention…and that includes spotting those pesky patrol cars or mobile laser speed traps on bridges over our motorways…in time to take appropriate action (not that I would exceed the limits… ) but average speed cameras for miles and miles of open, clear roads is just unfair, underhand and ungentlemanly/unladylike. Minimum effort - maximum return. They haven’t caught me yet though…

Australia has its share of average speed cameras, too. For a while they targeted heavy vehicles on main routes, but when visiting lately I see they're more prevalent on local routes now. The US has some, but very few in comparison, and not nearly as many stationary speed cameras. I reckon red light cameras are the most prevalent here. There's some irony there in that a majority of them are bought from an Australian company that is/was Chinese owned, called RedFlex. The Aussie arm tendered a bid for camera surveillance of US military bases. That one didn't get far once it was discovered who was behind them.

In OZ, at least, the system promotes cameras as necessary strictly for road safety. While this is noble, it strikes me as revenue enhancing first. What locality/municipality is going to give up the money flow once they discover how easy it is to grab? Your local pollie isn't going to want to be seen as promoting unsafe road behaviour, so they'll be of no help. It's nanny state stuff, with riders/drivers spending an inordinant amount of time watching their speedometre rather than the road.

I do enjoy the wide open spaces of the American desert west where average speeds are dictated less by a sign and more by the vast distances between places, and how fast you feel like riding or driving. I rarely saw a po-po on this last ride, but when I did...and that was on a specific, relatively heavily trafficked road leading into and out of a national park. So it's on me for not being more mindful.