Highway 93 2024
  
 

Day 12

June 28

  
     
   
  Today is the day that I get back to Highway 93.  
   
  Highway 93 reminds me a lot of Highway 50 in many areas - long and lonesome.  
   
  And, like Highway 50, the road seems to go and on, straight as an arrow til it disappears.  
   
  As I head northward, I can see snow capped mountains in the distance and wish I had a little bit of their coolness right now.  
   
  It's time for a defuel/fuel for me and a fuel for BlueBelle so I stop at the first Love's that I can find.  
   
  Breakfast was nonexistent as I left Ely so I get what I get at Love's. It's some sort of breakfast tortilla and it ain't half bad.  
   
  As I continue on, I realize that there is no escaping the construction zones and their 'loose gravel' warnings.  
   
  The terrain is ever changing from strange rock formations ...  
   
  to what looks like to me to be giant ant hills.  
   
  I finally cross the Idaho border where I hope the temps will be a bit cooler.  
   
  And the green is certainly welcome after all the days of brown.  
   
  Even the rivers appear to be green but I don't know if that is a good thing or not.  
   
  But as I move along I find out that there's still plenty of brown in some areas. I guess this would qualify as high desert.  
   
  Then I enter into a really 'brown' area - the Craters Of The Moon National Monument. It is a ancient lava field that spreads across 618 square miles.  
   
  As even the National Park Service describes it, the area is a 'weird and scenic landscape'.  
   
  Highway 93 cuts right through is so I get a good view as I travel along.  
   
  Then the scenery changes more to my liking with rugged mountains contrasted between beautiful blue skies and lovely green fields.  
   
  I find it interesting that there appears to be no vegetation at all on these mountains as far as I can tell.  
   
  I pass by an old abandoned homestead and again I wonder what stories it holds. I'm sure they did not leave the place because of the lack of scenic beauty.  
   
  I finally arrive at the mountains that I have been viewing from the distance ...  
   
  and know it is time up step up my riding 'game' to suit the terrain. Rolling along on arrow straight roads tends to let your riding instincts get lazy and this it not the place for that.  
   
  It's quite a stark visual contrast between the lovely green pastures and the barren dry mountains that they run up to.  
   
  Further along I'm running alongside a river that twists and turns like a snake on a hot rock.  
   
  The various colors and hues of this area are arresting and yet pleasing to my eyes.  
   
  There is quite a contrast between the rushing river and the barren rocky mountain sides that embrace it.  
   
  As I make my way away from the river and gain some altitude, the dryness sort of seeps into my bones.  
   
  When I come up this place I have to think that constant dryness may have been what finally made these folks give up on the home place.  
   
  But I am suddenly jolted out of my thought as I come upon this scene. A rider has gone down and I am told it does not look very good. When I do pass by the scene, his fellow riders are dressed in do-rags, vests, jeans, and no helmets. That stuff is really cool looking going down the road, but not so cool when sliding down the road.  
   
  Since I am first in the line of traffic I get the sad position of following the ambulance and a friend but I try keep a respectable distance. I can only imagine how a day of riding with friends has turned into a terrible tragedy.  
   
  Fortunately I am not too far from Salmon, Idaho and where I am spending the evening. Since there are few choices here, the prices are pretty high so you take what you can get.  
   
  I get BlueBelle unloaded and walk over to the office to see if there's a place to get some grub. She tells me about a bistro that is pretty good but it's a bit of a walk.  
   
  So I light out to go find it in the downtown area. I don't find anything with the word 'bistro' in its name. But at least it gives my legs a badly needed stretch. With both knees replaced, if I don't walk some distance on a regular basis, they tend to get stiff on me.  
   
 

In my wanderings I do find a Subway so I get supper stuff. I ask them -

"Is it too late to get you to fix me a breakfast sandwich too?"

The feller behind the counter replies -

"Sure, no problem at all" and proceeds to whip me one up.

Since I have a frig and microwave back in the room, I've got breakfast for in the morning. As often is the case, my bed becomes my supper table once again.

  
   
  I can't help but wonder about the rider that went down if he even survived the crash. I've found all we can do in this life is to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Those that do not prepare for the worst usually a heavy price for it when life goes sideways. The miles of the day have begun to bear down on me and the weight easily presses me into the land of slumber in short order.