Day 2: Good Lord Mountains are Really Big!

           

          We awoke in Idaho Springs, CO one the morning of the second day.  I blearily stumbled into my clothing sans coffee, blissfully unaware that this was to be as common an occurrence as not for the duration of the trip.  Steeling myself for another day of endurance riding and vowing I'd do better, I stepped out the motel door to join Denton, who was already loading the motorcycle, for a smoke.

          

         

  In the inky blackness of the previous night, the mountains were visible only as dark masses, something I could feel the presence of more than see.  By daylight, tantalizing features were visible from the courtyard of our motor lodge, but I couldn't make out the whole.  Idaho Springs, like all the small towns in its area, is nestled along a relatively level strip carved out of the mountainside.  As we drove a couple of blocks to a nearby restaurant, I could see that the town was long and narrow by necessity, lacking the sprawl inherent in flatter areas.  The restaurant, like all the businesses along the main drag, proved to be adorably cozy and cute, with quite decent coffee.  Since we'd miraculously remembered to charge the digital devices before succumbing to exhaustion the previous night, I was able to snap a photo of an unfamiliar songbird outside of our table's window, and Denton shot a vlog of me as we waited for our food.

          

              We fueled up and got back on the road, arriving in Georgetown (where we had originally planned to stay) within 30 minutes of leaving Idaho Springs.  We stopped to stretch our legs and chat with a few fellow bikers--they were eastbound, and gave us an idea of what to expect for the next 100 miles or so.  We returned the favor, setting in motion a pattern of similar exchanges that would prove to last the entire trip.

          

             "Hug-hug--hug...hug," went the Gold Wing, starving for oxygen, as our elevation rose.  Though the sound concerned me, it didn't frighten the bejeezus out of me as it had in the dark.  I saw snow-capped mountains in the distance, my first taste of the Rockies.  I saw endless alpine forests, which honestly, as a woodworker, impressed me more than the mountains.  The aspen trees appeared identical from the road, tens of thousands of clones that I could see, hundreds of thousands more that I couldn't.  The thinness of the air and the atmosphere made the sun feel less hazy, more sharp than it does in the Midwest.  It was like someone turned the contrast way up on the world.  Humans teemed in small resort towns, tucked into the few flat spots available, and along the connecting thread of I-70.  Other than that, I was impressed by how few signs of habitation there were.

           

             Sure, the rural Midwest has a lower population density than the mountains of Colorado.  But the landscape of the former includes fences, farmed fields, outbuildings and irrigation machinery.  These marks comfortingly say "Humans have been here!  Humans will return here!"  Staring up and down the mountainsides, I imagine that there are plenty of places that humans have never been.  Possibly never will go.  Can't go.  I realized that I was seeing unspoiled nature, and it was kind of forbidding.

           

         (Denton takes over here) The next rest stop overlooked Lake Dillon which is next to the sleepy mountain town of Frisco, Colorado.  The motorcycle had made it over Eisenhower tunnel and we were now on the speedy downhill run to my birth state of Utah.  The oxygen deprivation was starting to show as everything was funny and seemed like a good idea;  Frisco was a delight and the views were breath taking.  Hannah noticed the rocks while we were exploring and noticed how different they looked; this would become a theme over the rest of the adventure.

Hannah had a railroad cap with a "Frisco Railroad" patch on it so we had to get a picture of her in front of the sign.

We stopped in another town (we later learned it was called Avon) to get coffee and talk with the locals.  "Loaded Joe's" had great coffee.  A couple that we started talking to during our break told us about the beauty of Glenwood Canyon that was coming up.  

Many people had told us that Glenwood Canyon would be a highlight of Colorado and boy howdy, they weren't kidding.  As we had said about the day before, we had to avoid some really bad storms coming across Kansas; those storms had dumped a ton of water onto an already water logged Rockies and the Colorado river was over flowing it banks.  By the time we arrived into Glenwood Springs we could see the river roaring properly  through the canyon.  

We then started a fantastic run down through Glenwood Canyon toward Glenwood Springs...

When arrived at Glenwood Springs it was getting past lunch time so we pulled off the interstate to check out what the town had to offer.  As it turns out, this is a town that is like the rest of the towns we had seen in Colorado; everyone was either high, recovering from a high, or thinking about getting high.  Nobody could answer a simple question, do a simple task without stopping and staring off into space for an uncomfortable amount of time, or do anything for that matter.  We stopped at a Village Inn and refreshed ourselves.  The real highlight was when I pointed out to Hannah that there wasn't any condensation on the outside of our glasses.  Bone dry, not a lick of moisture, and she had never seen that before.  Once we got out of Glenwood Springs and the beauty of the canyon we headed West once again.  The terrain started to change quickly at that point and the green and lush mountains started to give way to arid and brown soil and sand.
The air became easier to breathe and the bike was roaring like a lion as we got into the flat lands of Eastern Utah.

Once you leave western Kansas you cannot drink enough water.  We had canteens and we were constantly refilling them and drinking our fill at every stop.  This was getting into the real desert, the horizon seemed to stretch on forever and the land was barren in all directions.

I was born in Utah and spent the first few years of my life having my lungs develop in the dry desert and mountain air.  I could BREATHE!  I hadn't felt that good in a long time and was happy to fill my lungs with the air of my home state.  We were on the final stretch to Moab; we were racing the Sun and I knew that we were going to get stuck driving in the desert in the dark.  As the sun went down and Hannah and I discussed what constitutes a desert we felt the lucky winds of the evening stir up and start to blow.  The temps started to drop and the coolness of the evening came over our motorcycle as we tore up the road running from our shadow.  Finally the little town of Crescent Junction UT.

Crescent Junction is less a town and more of a place.  Literally, it was called Crescent Junction before there was anything there.  Eventually a gas station and restaurant we built there and that is what you find today.  A giant neon gas station with a burger joint next to it.

The sun was down and it was cool so we put on our light jackets and headed South on 191 toward Moab.  For those of you that have never driven in the desert at night it is an experience that is as frightening as you can get without a storm being present.  It gets DARK... there is nothing telling you where you are going or what is around you except the inky blackness.  I told Hannah we could always tell when we were in a canyon by the temperature changes.  The rocks hold in heat and so when we were down in a canyon it always got warmer.  I told her that we were driving through a stretch of highway that had some of the most breathe taking terrain and she would have to wait until tomorrow to see it.  We finally came out if the canyons and the town of Moab lay before us.  Moab is one of my favorite little desert towns because it has everything you would want and need without being too expensive or full of homeless people or drugs.  Everyone was very polite and welcoming without being artificial.

(Note from Hannah): After a long, hard day of riding--something I was still getting acclimated to--the River Canyon Lodge in Moab felt like a palace.  When we mentioned our weary aches and pains to the desk clerk, she was quick to recommend the hot tub out back.  The hot tub proved to be big enough for swimming laps, and the snap-crackle-pop of our joints unbinding and tense muscles releasing was delicious.  I cannot describe how luxurious that soak, shower, and soft bed felt.

It's done... now it's story time!

In the early Sunday morning hours we arose; I say arose as neither of us could barely sleep through the night.  It was before dawn and we gathered our last minute items.  I was proud of Hannah; she got up, got dressed, and was ready to roll.  The two of us packed the final gear into the trunk and saddlebags, mounted the Zombie Bike (our beloved 1981 Goldwing), and started the engine.  I had heard that bike fire up a thousand times, but this time was different; the hum of the sound was more eager.  The old bike knew it was going on a real adventure... life without a net and full of risk.  Hannah looked at the apartment one last time as we rolled out of the parking lot and began to chase the headlight into the wee hours of the morning.  When we pulled onto I-70 and started heading West, the feeling came over us; we were actually doing this.
     I had decided to pull into a truck stop on the Kansas Turnpike to get breakfast; it was far enough away from town to be unfamiliar and get us used to road food.

Kansas Turnpike Breakfast, West of Kansas City

When we took that picture Hannah was still fresh and still in familiar territory.  We did not have a single bit of dust on our boots.  The trip was just beginning.

We headed on westward and as the Sun was coming up, we were finally chasing our shadow.  Once we were past Topeka, I spotted a familiar sign that I was looking for;  the Stuckey's gas station was off the next exit.  Since we were off the turnpike, the gasoline would be cheaper there.  Hannah had also never enjoyed the pleasure of a Stuckey's Cherry Pecan Log.

The Only Stuckey's in Kansas.

I purchased a Cherry Pecan Log and Hannah enjoyed her first bites.  I stuffed the remains of the pecan log into my carry all and we headed West again.  In the background of the picture you can see the clouds starting to form.  That would be the first wave of thunder storms that we would manage to avoid that day.

As the day wore on, the winds picked up along the Kansas plains.  We were fighting 70 mph wind gusts and could barely stay on the road.  I was always looking for an excuse to pull off the road and made liberal use of the many rest areas and roadside attractions along the way.

Hannah looks at the map and takes a water break; the first of MANY.

The first "attraction" we spotted was a billboard for a railroad museum in Ellis, KS.  I was glad to pull off because my arms were getting tired trying to keep the bike upright and on the road.  The town of Ellis was a cute Kansas town with a charming downtown and we rode down Main street looking for the museum and following the signs.

The infamous Ellis Railroad Museum

Hannah was so excited, she put on her train cap and we started exploring the property after we decided that we would wait the half an hour for the museum to open.  On the property was a scale diesel electric train ride; it was a vintage exact replica of a full size train.

The minutes clicked away.  We watched the little bit of traffic that the town had go back and forth down the main drag.  Soon it was past the appointed hour of opening and we walked across the street to a pizza place that was obviously open.  The employees in the shop pointed out the owner and recommended that we talk to him about the museum.  The table was full of his family and other towns folk.  When we asked about the museum it started quite the discussion.  Nobody was completely sure who was supposed to be manning the museum and it had been an issue at the city council meetings.  We told them to tell the city council that some travelers with money in hand were very disappointed and left without getting to ride a train or see the displays in the museum.  It wouldn't be a big deal except there is a large billboard off the highway telling us to stop in and see and do these things. We learned that the town hadn't had a real rain in years and the dry fountains and creek bed were reminders of this. As we were headed into the desert I told Hannah to get used to seeing this.  Hannah is going to take over the story from here.

I found it sad that the museum was essentially closed.  It reminded me of a detour I made on the way to a gig in Colby one year, a small town advertising the world's largest Czech egg, an opera house, and museum.  When I reached the town, I found that the opera house had burned down the previous year, taking the museum and egg with it.  No one had bothered taking down the billboard.  So it was with heavy hearts we plugged westward through the familiar Kansas landscape toward Oakley.  We had recently read on a few road-tripper Websites that Oakley's claim to roadside fame, the controversial Prairie Dog Town, had shuttered for good.  We stopped in Oakley to fill up and pay our last respects to another deceased piece of Americana, only to find Prairie Dog Town open for business!

We exchanged surprised and grateful pleasantries with the proprietor, Larry, who still keeps freeze-dried rattlesnakes in stock.  I was able to find a replacement for the one that our cat Rufus ate.  Larry has been trying to sell the place for some time now, but at least for the time being it remains open.  Go and see it while you can, folks.  It's magnificent and horrendous.

With both of us feeling the effects of the heat, we took a break in the gas station next door with some cold drinks.  After reapplying sunblock, we got back out there, still fighting strong winds.  The winds proved so strong, in fact, that Denton exited the highway and took a gravel county road because we could not maintain highway speed in such a gale.  The sky lightened and darkened alternatingly as Denton explained to me that a storm system was actually being born right above us!  We encountered a group of storm chasers east of Colby and stopped to chat.  Conditions were ripe for a tornado.

Storm chasers came from as far away as Iowa!

 We finally reached Colby as some ominous-looking thunderheads rolled directly towards us.  Considering ourselves lucky to have avoided all the storms up until this point, we holed up at the travel plaza for the better part of an hour as the rain came down in sheets.  Soon enough, the thunderstorm passed by us on its eastward course, and we swept the water off the seats and saddled up again.

Goodland is just a stone's throw from Colby, and we exited the highway to get a photo of a magnificent double rainbow that the storm had left as a consolation prize.  As we putted along, looking for a good vantage point, I did a double-take.  I immediately pointed it out to Denton, and we hurriedly parked the motorcycle and ran pell-mell to get this awesome shot:

"Double rainbow!  Giant easel!  What does it MEAN?"

We'd promised ourselves we'd stop for the "world's largest" anything, and I do believe the world's largest Van Gogh resoundingly qualifies.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, and we weren't yet out of Kansas.  Our motel reservation for the night was in Georgetown, CO--on the other side of Denver.  The weather had hobbled our progress all day, and only towards evening were we able to really open up the throttle. Still, we realized that we wouldn't make it to Denver in time to dine at the famous Casa Bonita.  So, hopeful for dinner, we stopped in Limon, CO.  Here began our rather painful but retrospectively hilarious relationship with Coloradans, all of whom, I am quite convinced, are stoned 24/7.  Ask for a gas station, they'll give you directions to "a really awesome sandwich shop."  Ask for a restaurant, they'll direct you to a bar that has "terrible food, but really good cheese sticks."  We ended up eating out of a large, greasy box of random fried foodstuffs at a Denver truck stop.  I must admit that corn on the cob is a whole different experience when breaded and deep-fried 'till crispy.

It had grown totally dark, and the altitude was still rising as we started getting into the Rockies.  We climbed and climbed, the Goldwing's engine starting to complain as the carburetor fed it less and less oxygen.  It got cold quickly, and we donned our jackets and hoodies.  We drove and drove, our entire world encapsulated in the headlight, climbing steadily upwards.  I think I recognized some of the famous elevated portions of I-70.  I read each passing sign with a fervent hope that I'd see a listing and distance for Georgetown on it, but as midnight came and went and I gradually lost sensation in my extremities, the highway gave no sign that such a town existed anywhere along our trajectory.  The GPS, apparently confused by the mountainous terrain, spat out meaningless numbers when queried about how far we were from our destination.

I am not proud of the fact, but at around one A.M. I suffered a meltdown.  Logic dictated that we must have passed Georgetown, because there wasn't a single indication that it was ahead of us.  Physically and emotionally exhausted and freezing in my desert gear, I burst into tears.  Denton pulled off at the next exit, which we later discovered to be the town of Idaho Springs.  He did his best to console me, and we drove from motel to motel, finally finding one (the only one) whose office was still open.  Denton literally picked me up off the bike, carried me into the room, and plunked me down in a hot shower.

After crawling into bed and covering myself with every blanket I could find, I clung to my soon-to-be husband as a tumult of emotions churned in me.  I felt guilty for causing this unplanned stop and resultant expense, and I doubted that I had the stamina to put in another 21-hour, 700-mile day on the road.  I worried about the poor Goldwing, hacking and seemingly shaking itself to pieces in the thin mountain air.  Mostly I was just cold, disoriented, and tired.  I'd like to put it straight for the record that the one thing I wasn't doubting at that moment was Denton. Seeing how desperately he tried to comfort me, how quickly he responded to get me somewhere I'd be more comfortable, I knew that he was lending me the strength to do this.  I resolved to do him proud.

Three Days and We Gone!

The final days are coming to an end.  We are going over the final checklists; the motorcycle has had EVERYTHING go wrong with it this month; looking over the fuel/food/sleep stops; and lastly, we want to thank all of you that have shown so much love and support.  The Turley family is excited to begin this adventure with so much promise and each and everyone of you all deserve a big THANK YOU!

There will be a couple of ways to track us.  If you are Facebook friends with me, then you will be getting updates there.  If you are a subscriber to this blog, then you will see amazing things here.  If you are a little more adventurous, then you can go to this Google map:KE0AOY HAM RADIO BEACON

Once you are at the page there is a field marked "Track Callsign".  In that field type: KE0AOY

Then you will be able to see my last or current position.  You may have the ability to click "Track in street view" which will give you a Google view of the area.

 
Hannah can barely sleep as we get closer and closer to leaving. I told her that if she can't sleep the night before then when I am awake... we leave.  Every mile I am not under the heat of the Sun is a mile I will take.

Elvis SINGS, SINGS, SINGS!!!

Elvis will be performing the honors for Hannah and I; Elvis will also be singing.  Now here is the hardest decision that Hannah and I have to make concerning our wedding... what songs should we have him sing?  There are so many songs that the late King of Rock and Roll left us to choose from that it is turning out to be really, really, difficult.  After all, do we have Elvis sing love songs?  Maybe something inappropriate perhaps?

  

Hannah has been listening to Elvis on YouTube; trying to get more familiar with Elvis music.  Elvis in her mind is exactly what we are using him for; doing weddings in a drive though in Las Vegas.  

The venue, A Little White Wedding Chapel, has been home to many, many famous weddings.  Here is a link to a list of just some of the famous people that have said their vows and came before us.

Famous Couples from A Little White Wedding Capel

Sarah Michelle Gellar and Freddy Prince Jr.

Patty Duke (1st and 3rd)

Rita Hayworth & Dick Haymes

Joan Collins & Peter Holms

                                                                               

Stone Cold & Steve Austin

So it is that we will be in good company in adding "The Turleys" to this already prestigious list of famous people that have said, "I do" in the tunnel of love.

Episode 1- the videos of our lives

Ok, so maybe it isn't as deep as the video of our lives; it is a visual of where we were at any given time and place.  In this modern world of cameras being everywhere and 99% of all videos being shot as poorly as the events that they are trying to capture turn out to be, I want a good video diary of this adventure.  So I am playing with the Ipad I got for my birthday and experimenting with the video editor.  Here is episode 1, Sam and I work on the motorcycle to get it road ready.

We replaced the timing belts, switched up some wiring, and adjusted the clutch.  We still need to change the oil and swap out the speedo cable.

My Birthday and 84 days to go!!!

Well, bachelor party plans have been handed over to the grand master of such things and we continue to march down that road to the departure date.  There have been questions as to when we are leaving; our date for heading out of town is June 1, 2014 and we come back into town two weeks later.  For my birthday I got an Ipad so that I can post video and pictures along the way without hauling a laptop with us.  We have figured out all the hotel stops and cost which has been fun; the hardest to get nailed down is the Wigwam Village #6 in Arizona along the old Route 66 highway.

There are these concrete and steel "tee-pees" that dot the property and offer almost no frills of the technological age.  No wi-fi, old a/c machines that reportedly are for decoration only, and no ice machine. The rooms are round and are small.  It is at its worse, a bit of America's bygone age of road trip glory; at its best it is another item checked off the ol' bucket list.

Speaking of desert roadside awesomeness,  there is the food that we will be eating.  I know I talked a little about this in another post, but there is so much of it over two weeks.  One of the places that I really look forward to eating at is the famous Road Kill Cafe in Seligman, AZ.

The entire length of the southern part of our journey takes us past so many great little eateries that appear in films and are talked about in the corners of road trip legends.  Many of them boast of "free if you can eat it" deals.  Like the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, TX. The challenge there is the 72 oz steak.  

The days are still ticking away and I can feel the road under me and the sun on my skin as we head out West.  The desert sands under my boots will be a great home coming; I am originally from Utah for those who didn't know.  It's been too long since I have seen the rocks and barren wastelands of my home state.

It's a GAS!

So my dear friend Sam and I sat down and calculated the fuel stop points.  We only adjusted one days worth of travel to make the last stretch to Silver Dollar City a little easier.  This will make it possible to stop into Joplin MO and see my Aunt, Uncle, and cousins, whom I don't get to see nearly enough; also I get to introduce them to Hannah as Mrs. Turley.

To my family in Joplin, I hope to organize a quick meeting with everyone there.  We figured the gas and budget and everything is still well within our limits.  I have been joking with Hannah that it's good that we are doing a lot hiking as the food we will be eating will be road food for two weeks.  I don't think she has ever done that and it will be interesting to see how she handles it.

Check out roadfood.com

We do get to spend some time resting along the way; taking in the nature of environments that we don't have in Kansas.  The dry, hot desert sands.  The mountains and rocks will give Hannah a playground she has never had the opportunity to play around.  She is so excited to see the vistas of the Utah Arches national park

Discover Moab

The days are clicking away and the calender days until we leave get fewer and fewer.  Tonight Hannah is working on her riding outfit that he intends to wear.

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