Highway 93 2024
  
 

Day 08

June 24

  
     
   
  I've got a little over 600 miles on mostly 2 lanes today as I start my journey up Highway 93. I'm up early as I hope to beat some of the heat since this will be mostly desert riding. Mark and Chris have some lovely flowers in bloom just outside their kitchen window.  
   
  And as I suspected, they are already up and enjoying the morning before I arrive on the scene. Chris whips me up a great breakfast of hen fruit and toast and it hits the spot. I finish getting BlueBelle ready to roll and then give them both big hugs. Once again I have been blessed by folks who have gone out of their way to take care of this old hillbilly.  
   
  But the road waits for no one so I'm off to Wickenburg and the start of Highway 93.  
   
  Since the height of saguaro is based primarily on their age, this one incredible cactus off to my right must be really old.  
   
  I get into a little early morning traffic as I make my way around Phoenix but it's not as bad as I thought it might be.  
   
  And strangely enough my route takes me through a fairly long tunnel.  
   
  Once I make it through Phoenix proper I get back out into the desert which I like a lot better.  
   
  Soon I come to Wickenburg where Highway 93 starts on its run to the Canadian border. I have studied through Google Earth where the sign is and there's not a very good place to park the bike but I think I can make do.  
   
 

I manage to get it behind the painted lines and out of traffic and I move over to stand on a wide traffic median to take the pictures. But this does not sit well with a passing Arizona State Trooper. He pulls up with lights flashing and then he blocks traffic. He jumps out of his car and come over to me and yells in my face -

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Sensing that he is pushing me for a confrontation, I smile and calmly reply -

"Sir, I'm riding all of Highway 93 so I stopped here to get a picture of the start of it."

He yells at me again -

"YOU OUGHT TO SMARTER THAN THAT!"

Of course I 'm thinking that first of all, my bike is not in anybody's way. Second of all I am not in anybody's way. Third of all, he has parked his cruiser blocking traffic - which is not too smart. Besides I've been yelled at by the best 'yellers' in the world - USMC drill instructors - so his tone doesn't bother me much. Before he can say or do anything else, I quickly reply -

"Sorry sir, I'll get right out of the way."

With that I quickly head over and jump on the bike and move on down the road, leaving him standing there. I keep checking my rearview mirrors expecting him to come after me but thankfully he doesn't. I've encounter several different state troopers over the many miles of my travels and with the exception of this one and one other one they have all been very professional and courteous. This one was neither or was the one I encountered at the Virginia state line years ago. I pulled off on the wide shoulder to get a shot of one of my ST1100s at the Virginia state line sign and that trooper just did a turn around and headed past me. He got about 50 yards down the interstate then did a high speed reverse toward oncoming traffic to get back to me. He jumped out of his car and proceeded to lecture me on how what I am doing was so unsafe. The bike and I were completely out of the traffic flow on the shoulder. Never mind that he just did one of the most unsafe things you can do into oncoming traffic. I just have to assume that in both cases these fellers ought to really pursue another line of work.

 
   
  Thankfully with no ticket as a souvenir, I'm finally on my way up Highway 93.  
   
  Most of today is on my way to Ely, Nevada which will be desert and mountain passes.  
   
  I do pass another one of those Joshua tree areas where they are growing in abundance. They are just so different than anything you see back in the hills of Tennessee that they really fascinate me.  
   
  This area is one of the heaviest concentrations of them in Arizona from what I can tell.  
   
  The unusual rock formations set my mind to wondering as to what they resemble. This one could be a couple of fellers having a sit down around a camp fire discussing world affairs.  
   
  The mountains stretch out across the horizon like a barrier to progress.  
   
  But the Highway 93 engineers figured out how to make it passable.  
   
  As I head northward, the terrain greatly varies from jagged mountain peaks ....  
   
  to groups of buttes ..  
   
  to nice bends and twists as I traverse the mountain passes.  
   
 

I pass by this place and think to myself -

"If it's Terrible I sure don't want none of it!"

But then maybe they are talking about their prices ...

 
   
  Once again I see cloud shadows playing on the rugged mountain sides.  
   
  Soon I come to the Lake Mead National Recreation Area which ...  
 
is a blessed relief from all the dryness that surrounds it.  
 

It sits right on the outskirts of Boulder City which has an interesting history -

Its sole reason for existence was the need to house workers contracted to build the Hoover Dam on the Colorado River (known commonly as Boulder Dam from 1933 to 1947, when it was officially renamed Hoover Dam by a joint resolution of Congress). Men hoping for work on the dam project had begun settling along the river in tents soon after the precise site for the dam had been chosen by the Bureau of Reclamation in 1930. Their ramshackle edifices were collectively known as "Ragtown". Boulder City was originally built in 1931 by the Bureau of Reclamation and Six Companies, Inc. as housing for workers who were building the Hoover Dam.

 

  
 
Soon I am riding right through Lost Wages, also known as Las Vegas. The temperature is above 100F so I make a quick fuel stop. I feel like I am about to melt and run down into my riding boots. So I take refuge from the heat for a few minutes and rehydrate as best as I can.  
 
  I get back on the road and out of the city as quickly as I can. Some air moving is better than none, even if it is hot. When I see this sign I know I'm on the right track.  
   
  When I pass by areas like this which appear to be devoid of any type of moisture, I wonder how did a feller survive coming through here.  
   
  And as I have seen so many times out here, the road just goes on and on, straight as an arrow until it seems to dead-end into the distant mountains.  
   
  When I see these shadows from the heat, it makes me want to head over that way for a spell.  
   
  At least I come up upon a nice lake called Lake Pharanagal which visually gives me some relief from the surrounding arid landscape.  
   
  But then it's back to the 'dry' - so dry you have to work up a spit if you can.  
   
  I can only hope that this long, lonely road will eventually lead up into the mountains before me and some cooler temperatures.  
   
  There is some slight relief with the temps as a I traverse the various passes along Highway 93.  
   
  To me, the geological formations out here are just so different in view and in structure from where I grew up in the hills of Tennessee.  
   
  But the dryness is still ever present as I view them.  
   
  Then it is back down to the low spots and the intense heat and the thought that the road must run on forever.  
   
  Shortly before I reach Ely, Highway 93 joins my old friends Highway 50 - which I rode end to end in 2017 - and Highway 6 - which I rode end to end in 2021.  
   
  It's been a long, hot day of over 600 miles so I am very glad to reach my motel for the evening.  
   
 

When I check in, I ask the clerk -

"Any place around here to eat within reasonable walking distance? I used to go across the street to the Silver State Restaurant but they look like they are closed."

She tells me -

"Yes, they are and we miss them a lot. There's some places up the street but they are a little bit of a walk."

I thank her, get BlueBelle moved to in front of room and unburden her. I get some decent walking shoes on, wash off some of the road stink and go for a walking tour of Ely in search of a restaurant. I pass by a nice city park that is named in recognition of the local veterans.

  
   
  It's pretty nice and shady but I can't help but sadly notice it is also the camping spot for some of the local homeless folk.  
   
 

There's also the LDS Tabernacle And Ward House. The history of it is -

The Ely LDS Stake Tabernacle was built by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church) in 1927-1928 as a church and community center in Ely, Nevada. The contractor for the project was Joseph Don Carlos Young, grandson of Brigham Young. The stake tabernacle is an unusual example of Colonial Revival design in Nevada, where the style was never widely used. It is also notable as an early example of the expansion of the LDS Church into neighboring states. The LDS church first was established in Ely in 1915. In 1926 the Ely Ward was established. The tabernacle was completed in 1928, containing a 600-seat auditorium, meeting space and classrooms.

 

  
   
  The only places I can find are the type that in my younger days I would probably have had to fight my way out of - a single door in and out and no windows. There's a convenience store across the street and they have some chicken tenders and taters. Not my favorite, but it is what it is so I make do with what I can get.  
   
  I feel wrung out like a sponge from the heat of the day but I've got to depart Highway 93 tomorrow and head for my appointment at Russell Cycle Products. They will build me another wonderful custom saddle for my ST1100s. I save some of the food for breakfast in the morning since there appears to be no real options close by. Then I quietly collapse into a comatose heap with the air conditioning set on its 'cold enough to hang meat' setting.