Uncle Phil - West 2009 Day 13

West 2009

Day 13

September 8

Today we will travel on the first Interstate we have been on since we left Denver 10 days ago. But getting to the south rim of the Grand Canyon does not leave us many other options. Hopefully it will be a short day so we will have plenty of time for looking around at the Canyon. We get the bikes packed up and are ready to go at good daylight.

I do my room check and think to myself -

"This place is like me. It ain't real modern but it's real functional!"

Having started out life in 4 rooms and a path, it doesn't take a lot to make me happy. And I do sort of like to stay in local places when possible and this one worked out really nicely.

Dave takes the moment to get a shot of an old fire truck parked a little bit way from the motel.

With the sun peaking over the mountain tops, we make our way toward the Nevada border where I hope that a California state line sign will be waiting along with the Nevada one.

Highway 127 down to I15 goes through some pretty barren territory but at least we have the road all to ourselves this morning.

It's just me, my shadow and Dave and Andy out here in the deserted landscape. We occasionally come across 'Flood Warning' signs, but somehow I can't quite put that one together with what my eyes are seeing.

Soon we're on I15 and headed toward Las Vegas, making good time. This is one of the few times we are going out of the way to get a state line sign. It will only be about 20 extra miles so I don't feel too bad about it.

The Nevada sign is an easy one and the turnaround is just ahead. But there's no California sign to be had without going a lot further on. Now that's twice I've missed the sign and I'm pretty sure that there's not one where we cross over into Nipton. But I've still got one more place that may have the goods.

Nipton is an old gold mining town with an interesting history and a population of about 35. And it is still asleep as we move on down the line.

It sits on the edge of the Mojave National Preserve and almost became a part of it until Congress excluded it in 1994.

The Preserve is an interesting place and we find the Joshua trees a bit different than anything we have seen so far.

But it is also home to a long, straight highway, reminding me of that old movie from the Seventies called 'Vanishing Point'.

When we do stop for fuel, we get to see the Dave Fuel Drill one more time. I guess if he had a gun he would probably be shooting gas pumps by now ...

I look over toward the store and casino in vain for a breakfast opportunity - and Mickey D's ain't it. So we just keep on rolling along hoping for something better.

I am really hoping that my last chance at a California sign will pan out because otherwise I'll have to make a mad dash all the way down to I40 - quite a few miles out of the way. But fortunately, my last chance pans out and the sign that I remember from my SweetTreat ride out is still there. I guess third time is the charm, as the old folks say.

As we continue on our way to Laughlin, seeing this boat being towed just seems to out of place to me. I know that Lake Mead is just north of us, but it just strikes me as kind of funny as I look around at the rugged desert terrain.

Just past Laughlin, I grab an Arizona sign, but it's a quick shot because it is at a dangerous intersection. But my experience with the California signs this trip has prompted me to get what I get when I can.

The run on highway 68 into Kingman is nice a run, not too challenging but with great views.

It's been over 200 miles since we left Shoshone and I am about ready to hunt up some road kill. Fortunately before we jump on I40, I see a familiar sign that warms the cockles of my heart - or at least makes my stomach happy.

When we get off, Dave gives me some grief -

"What a tour guide - makes me ride 220 miles before he lets me have any breakfast!"

"Well, buddy, I reckon you get what you pay for" I tell him.

We place our orders and I ask our server as nice as I can,

"Anyway I could get you to bring me a pitcher of unsweet ice tea? I have a drinking problem and it will save you a whole lot of time and bother."

"Sure thing" she tells me "I'll do it."

Our food comes out and we set to it. The good thing I have found about Cracker Barrels all over the United States is that the food quality, prices, and service are pretty good and consistent in all of them. And this one is no exception.

And I figure the tea must have it evaporated in the dry desert climate of Kingman. All that remains are few lonely ice cubes.

I guess Dave just couldn't find his mouth as he pours water on his shirt. How he could miss such a large object will remain a mystery ...

The run east on I40 to highway 64 is quick and quiet. It's somehow hard to imagine that this same road runs within 3 miles of the Holler back home. I can get on in Tennessee and ride all the way to Barstow, California on the same road - and I've done it a time or two!

Since fuel can be a bit pricey at the Grand Canyon, we take an opportunity to gas up and hydrate. There's a van parked there and it just so happens that the folks are from Columbia, Tennessee my family's ancestral home and in the area where I grew up. The driver is a retired school teacher and we know a lot of folks in common. Here we are almost 2,000 miles from home and our paths happen to cross. Life is always interesting - how ever you slice it.

The run up 64/180 is pretty straight as the highway is flanked by at least some greenery. The terrain gives you no clue about the immensity or the existence of the canyon we are rapidly approaching.

I notice the 'Grand Canyon Airlines' off to our left as we get close. Looks like some pretty interesting prop jobs that have in service.

And then we arrive and still you have no inkling of where the canyon is (unless you've been here before like Andy and I.)

I'm a bit confused about exactly where is the Maswik Lodge, since so much has changed since the last time I was here. After a U-turn or so, I think we're on the right road, as we pass these two mules having a conversation -

"Dumb humans in them funny space suits. Any self respecting mule would be wearing a fur coat and walking on all fours like you're supposed too!"

Or least that's what I understood them to say ...

We finally find the 'approach' to the lodge and we go in to get our room assignment. This is one of the few times on the trip that all three us will be staying in the same room.

We have to park in a 'non' parking space, but fortunately our bikes are still there when we come back out. We find our way over to our room, unload our poor beasts of burden and put on our walking shoes. According to the reservations that I made, we should be in walking distance of the rim ...

And we are. No matter how many times I stand and gaze over this scene, I am still impressed by the majesty of it all.

It is a view like no other view that I've been, though it seems to change very little with the passing years.

If you listen carefully, you can sometimes hear the Colorado River as it rushes through the canyon out of sight from most places.

I see the trail that will take you down to the bottom of the canyon, which is not a hike for the faint of heart. The walk down is tough I have been told, but the walk up is even more challenging as you ascend a mile of altitude.

And Dave, who is a little faint of heights, keeps a firm grip on the handrail as he looks downward.

With my zoom working, I do manage to get a shot of the muddy Colorado River.

In one of the buildings on the rim, they have a scale model of the canyon, which helps you to realize just how massive the whole thing really is.

And every viewpoint gives you a different perspective.

The last time Andy and I were at the Grand Canyon together was in 1973 - the same trip that took us to Death Valley, I took a shot of him then and tried to find the same spot for the retake.

And here's what it and Andy looked like in 1973 -

And even among the grandest of canyons, there are the small things that are just as precious.

But the sun is starting to sink and my stomach is starting to complain, so we began to look about, seeking something to devour.

Our search is a short one, since the Bright Angel Lodge is near by. We walk in and are quickly escorted to our seats. I ask the hostess -

"Would it be all right if we take that booth over by the window?"

"Sure, that's fine" she tells me so we go for it.

We talk about tomorrow and I tell Andy and Dave -

"You know, if we skip Zion Canyon tomorrow, and do Bryce on the way in, we will have more time to see the Arches and North Canyonlands. Zion is a canyon that you drive through the bottom and you don't see much unless you take the bus tour."

As always, they both are so difficult to deal with -

"I'm just following the tour guide" Dave says and Andy nods.

My thinking is that tomorrow will be a short day but the day after will be one of our longest. So having extra travel time on the long day will be a good thing.

Our food arrives and it is excellent. I have ordered the pork loin and it is so tender I can cut it with a fork. It makes for an excellent finish to another great day of riding with my friends.

After dinner we go back out and take another shot or two of the canyon in the waning sunlight when the reds seem even richer in hue.

But we want to get an early start tomorrow, so we work our way back to the room to get some much needed rest. We are headed for the North Rim of the Canyon in the morning then on to Bryce, one of the prettiest canyons I've ever seen. With these thoughts filtering through my brain, I quickly beat Andy and Dave in a race to Slumberland.