8.16.06 - Dry County....

Why it's called a "Continental Breakfast" is beyond me. On what continetnt is a stale bagel and some half-crushed box of Cheerios, known as "breakfast"? What in hell is wrong with 2 scrambld eggs, & a fresh bisquit? After departing the local Comfort Inn, $55 night, clean, but they put freakin' plastic on their pillow cases..what in hell is that all about...The bike is checked for oil level, air pressure, gassed up, and pointed south toward Arizona, destination: Monument Valley, mostly owned, thank God, by the Navajo Indian Nation, otherwise, your brother-in-law would have a timeshare there. ABM is already 60 miles from the Ut/Az border---Trek down, passing the obligitary State Radar Shrine at the 50mph roadkill zone doing 65, blowing off a trucker, damm.. we still get a pass. Lucky bike, or the officer likes black. "Mexican Hat", little town, halfway between us and the Valley is so named because it has a huge rock, not unlike a 50's si-fi flying saucer, perched on the smallest of a fulcrom. Pretty cool. Have pics, will post when get back to the world at www.americanbikerminute.com. Blasting south on rt 191, we are inside the "Res"... mainly run down housing--mobile homes, and double-wides, with animal pens, rusted cars, and farm implements. Some need roofs, all need TLC. An attractive, young, pregnant Navajo princess showed us what jewlery was genuine, & provided a nice discount from the posted price--Roadside shacks made of earth, skinned poles, and some cover, nothing fancy, until you see what's for sale...at a reasonable price.


FLASHBACK--YESTERDAY:

French Fries in MOHAB: Sunburned, tired, and exhausted, on the way down, pulled into a "City Market", and bought a southern redneck box of fried chicken, & some cole slaw, but not after having to WAIT&WAIT in the checkout line as FRENCH tourists had the cashier look thru their wallets for the appropriate $$. At least I'd learn the FRANC system before I took a vacation in FRANCE, and these bastards SMOKE! Even the sexy, hot chicks who obviously work out have no problem with dragging on a Camel while they're talking that orgasmic FRENCHY sex talk to ya, and the hotties...LOVE CHOCOLATE! You name it baby... the longer they're in line, the more freaking candy bars they plop down on the counter. These suckers can't read, so they SQUEEZE the bars in an attempt to find out what's inside. Woulda been funny if I wasn't so burnt.

Bottoming out at Kayenta, Az, it's eats, a fillup, and north for Lake Powell, the westernmost portion of the Gand Canyon. Jump off 163 for 261 and begin to go up, and Up, and UP, and UP UP UP UP UP--a big sign warns of 10% uphill grade, and DIRT SURFACE. I ain't turning back. It's straight up, with switchbacks every 300-400 yards. Dramatic overhead rock ceiling right over the road surface. Guardrails? No way. If you get into the loose stuff near the edge, it's STRAIGHT DOWN to the gorge--looks like a mile, but probably only a thousand feet or so. Either will kill ya, & that's why we're here. The couple trucks headed downhill looked FREAKED that someone would try it on a chopper, but hell, they were probably from FRANCE.

SHOWER, Anyone? Headed for Lake Powell, got sidetracked, and sucked in by a promise to glimpse and photo the WORLD'S LARGEST NATURAL BRIDGE. Very cool. There are three of them, and they're close to ancient American Indian dwellings. You can hike 1-4 miles to reach them, but I found some others closer to the road on the way out. No way I can describe them. You have to see for yourself. "Natural Bridges National Monument"--it has cheap camping, & only cost $3 to bring in a bike, but it's getting dark, & you wouldn't have to be a meteorologist to sense impending doom--lightening, thunder and dark sky--this is the "Monsoon" season here, and what looks far away turns into sheets of rain--drenching ABM, not once, but twice--

THE DRILL:
1). You ride into cold air, that's the signal to stuff the cell phone and 35mm Nikon into plastic and bury deep in the tour bag.

2). Rain hits, and at 80 mph it hurts, slowing down doesn't help much.
3). The sun returns, shivering turns into pleasure, and everything dries out EXCEPT YOUR ASS. ,Repeat twice, and you have the 50 miles back to the crash pad, but who cares?? A 6-pack of Corona Extras, par favor??

BELIEVE IT OR NOT:

I've booked myself a room in a GODDAM DRY TOWN! No beer, no wine, no...well, no booze, period. Wonder why they (allegedly), have a meth problem? Now ABM knows why they put plastic on the pillowcases...Heading west over the Colorado Rockies now, destination: Cripple Creek, Colorado.