Wednesday, September 19, 2012

You've Got to Know When to Hold 'em . . .

From Janie, Wednesday, September 19:

Today we rolled from Kayenta, AZ to Bluff, UT.  Nearly 70 miles of stunning vistas, little traffic, a border crossing, rollers, hills to climb, hills to fly down, PBJ's and apples.  Over 3000 feet of climb over the course.  We saw a dead horse and a dead cow, looking like traffic victims.  (A good reminder to mindful of traffic, which is usually but not always mindful of us).  Smelled another dead something.  Plenty of evidence of smaller roadkill as well.  After the ride, a phone call instead of a nap.  (The subject matter of the phone call smelled nearly as bad as the equine and bovine roadkill.  Seriously.  One of those days, one of those subjects)

No one got enough sleep last night.  Jody was restless, perhaps in anticipation of getting back on the road after three rest days.  I was coughing, perhaps due to the feather pillows that had been on my bed.  (Damn, allergies!)  Joe, however, had been bonding with The Little Darkness.  In the parking lot.  Of our hotel.  Because his was sold out.  What a way to start a trip, sleeping in the car!  (Although, should this be our worst logistical problem in three months, we're doing ok.)  I think we were all glad to leave last night behind and get on the road.

Riding out of town in the early morning, we watched the sun paint the rocks all the mystical colors from red to buff and all shades of earth in between.

Desert, with phone wires, at dawn.
 
Jody rode out early, with Joe and me in The Little Darkness close behind.  Joe drove me out abuot 15 miles, where I got on the bike and headed for the Utah border.  Shortly before the border, I was passed by about 20 riders on 13 Harleys.  Polite, respectful, giving me plenty of room, putting their left blinkers on to tell the cars behind to get over.  They stopped at the border.  I didn't.  I kept rolling down the road.  A couple of miles later, they passed me again.  Same story.  Joe told me later he had talked to them - a whole group from France.  Sweet.
 

The bluffs, in Utah.
 
While Joe and I worked on cadence - quicker pedal strokes up the hills, feels so weird at first, but easier on the legs - Jody was busy taking pictures of his shadow.  While riding! 
 
No, it really wan't quite this steep.
 
He doesn't always take pictures from the bike.  Here's one of the bike:
 
Jean-Luc in the desert.
 
Jody caught up with me on one of the climbs after we crossed the border, made me a PBJ, then we were both back on the road.  He's enough faster that I got to watch him disappear around the corner up ahead.  Then I, too, hit the long swooping downhill, with the sheer drop (well, ok, maybe not entirely sheer, but still!) to the right.  I hit 30 mph at one point, but my lizard brain (sitting in the back of my skull, always along for the ride) was sitting up and screaming!  NO, NO, NO!  I slowed down, then sped up, then slowed down, then sped up.  It'll get easier as the trip goes along, I know.  Lizard brain and I just need to get used to it again.
 
At the flat before another big swooping downhill, Joe waved me over to the side of the road.  Jody had stopped at the river bottom, flagged Joe down and pointed out the fire someone had burning in the scrub brush at the river's edge.  Smoke rose up and then drifted over the valley.  I'm so very allergic to smoke.  Jody knew.  Told Joe.  Sent Joe back to pick me up.  So, Joe popped my bike up on top of The Little Darkness, I jumped in, and we drove past the smoke.  Jody, you're my hero!
 
Jody, riding back to tell Joe to pick Janie up.
 
Janie, happy in the desert. 
 
Past the smoke, I took a puff on my inhaler, got back on the bike, rode a few more miles, and then called it a day.  Somewhere around 32 miles in about 3 hours.  A great day!  I rode with Joe, and we watched Jody climb the mother of all hills.  (I know, I know.  We're not to the mountains yet, but as hills go, this one was a stone bitch.  Jody stood up, rode up, and then flew by us.
 
We rolled into Bluff, UT, established 650 A.D. (which is causing quite the controversy with the settlers of European descent!):
 
Welcome to Bluff, Utah.
 
Janie and Jody at dinner, Bluff UT.
 
In town, we checked into the quaint (in all the best and some of the worst sense of the word) Kokopelli Inn.  Joe went out for a spin, and Jody and I went to lunch.  Jody had crispy flatbread with cheese and chilies.  I had a southwest veggie burger.  We both had tater tots (mmmmm, haven't had those in years!) and rootbeer.  (I would have had a beer, but we were at the cafe without a liquor license.  Maybe tonight.)  We also admired the art on the wall.  And asked about the artist, who lived and worked right next to the cafe.  I asked if he shipped.  Our waitress said she didn't know.
 
After we ate, we walked over to the gallery of J.R. Lancaster.  We looked at more art; talked about the valley, how wonderful spring and fall are in this part of Utah, how harsh the winters and summers can be, how hard the wind can blow.  He is originally from southern Louisiana, so we talked about New Orleans, Hurricane Isaac (Ari hunkered down in New Orleans, J.R.'s father in Biloxi), San Francisco, making art, petroglyphs, writing books, and riding bikes.  He laughed and admired us for riding across the country.  He asked if we'd ridden up the hill from the south.  I laughed.  "Jody did," I said.  "I was happy to be in the car at that point."  Stone bitch indeed. 
 
J.R. took a pencil and drew what he thought would be the most scenic route for us from Bluff, UT to Cortez, CO, which will be our next stop.
 
J.R. Lancaster, drawing on the cement floor of his studio in Bluff, UT. 
 
It's the same route Lena described last night.  Apple orchards, the river, the bluffs.  Beautiful, they both said.  Less traffic, they both said.  Fully paved, they both said.  Who could ask for more than that?
 
I bought four pieces from J.R. Lancaster.  All four mixed media.  Each very different from the other.  One of them will be the cover art for a book he has in production, something about a time-traveling Vincent Van Gough.  I can't wait for that!  Just before dinner tonight, he dropped off a copy of the invoice at the hotel front desk - along with a hand drawn map of tomorrow's route.  Very, very cool.
 
First page of the hand drawn map.
 
 
Turn it over - second page of the hand drawn map.
 
I didn't take pictures of the art.  I'll do that when it arrives in Iowa City.  The pieces will hang somewhere in the office, and every time we look them, we'll remember this day.
 
It is sound judgment to put on a bold face and play your hand for a hundred times what it is worth; forty-nine times out of fifty nobody dares to call it, and you roll in the chips.
     ~Samuel Clemens, on bluffing

1 comment:

  1. Keep up the great blog posts, it's so nice to be able to keep following along on your journey. Very enjoyable to read :)
    Missing the open road, and wishing you many more scenic routes to come, Nicole

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