Show Low, AZ to Scottsdale

US-60 descending into the Salt River Canyon

Rain had been predicted all Saturday long when I left Show Low, AZ for Scottsdale. I hadn't brought any rain gear with me, aside from the leather jacket and full face helmet I normally wear. So, I was prepared for a soaking.

"It's just water", I often explain to myself.

I did, however, bring my cold weather, waterproof gloves, because they don't take up much space in the trunk. Yet, I opted not to wear them because rain was not actually falling the moment I left. I'm one of those "in the moment" guys, as opposed to those, "you never know" guys, and would just rather wait to see how accurate the forecast was.

As US-60 made the slow descent from the White Mountain Range into the Salt River Canyon, grayish thunderheads loomed across the horizon like giant puffs of billowy cotton soaked with the warm waters of the Gulf of California. The highway wasn't making any attempt to steer me away from them either. It looked as if this ride was going to be as wet as the weatherman said it would.

If there was any consolation, the road was wide open. The scores of minivans and RVs I had expected along this route just wasn't to be found.

Yet somehow, I had passed under numerous clouds that looked to ready to unleash their loads, and nothing came down. So far, the rain had waited.



As the highway began the twists and turns that snaked its way down the rock canyon walls to the river bottom, sunshine had actually come out. The air was starting to warm up to the normal 100+ degrees F that Arizona typically sees this time of the year. I felt rewarded for having stuck to my guns about gearing up for the "now" instead of for the "might be". And just when I thought I was going to be stuck behind a line of slow moving cages, the highway offered a passing lane that let me twist the throttle and get in some good leans.

Another 10 miles down the way, I was treated to some beautiful views of blue sky interspersed with bright white stratocumulus clouds hovering over streaks of bluish-gray mountain ranges. Where were the other Saturday afternoon riders? I suppose they were frightened off by the overly-cautious weather forecast.

After I finished a rather uncharacteristic lunch of all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet in the town of Globe, I opted to prolong my journey into the Salt River Valley with a side route to Roosevelt Lake via AZ-188. According to Google Maps, AZ-188 would then intersect me with AZ-88, a road that would take me to Scottsdale but more twisty and challenging.

Yet when I got to the 88, I found a sign warning me that it was all dirt. So, I stopped at an overlook that offered gorgeous views of Lake Roosevelt, and spoke to a couple of Harley riders, who confirmed that the 88 was indeed all dirt, and very soft in places. No worry, I ended up taking the 188 instead to AZ-87, and then into Scottsdale.

As it turns out, I got only a light bit of rain taking the AZ-87 south, not even enough to pull over and put on my waterproof gloves for. Sometimes when it threatens to rain, that's all it amounts to.

View more photos from this ride here.

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2014 Sturgis, SD, Day 3, August 3

US ALT 14 connects Sturgis with Deadwood

While one can spend all day in Sturgis and hop from one campground to the next, standing in a crowd all day long under the heat of the afternoon doesn't really interest me.

I want to take the bike out and hit the Black Hills. I guess I don't mind the crowds and craziness at night, as long as I can enjoy the riding all day. But Sash and I are also here for work, we actually have sponsors paying us to produce media for them, which takes up a good deal of our time here. So, it's a welcomed respite of relaxation to hit the country.

Having removed the trunk from Blackbird, she was a few pounds leaner for some fun in the curves.

US ALT 14 connects Sturgis to Deadwood, the famed gambling town where the likes of Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, and Wyatt Earp cut their teeth and cemented their legacies.

The path follows the twists and curves of Black Butte Creek, sneaking past rising cliffs and groves of evergreen pine. Then it catches Two Bit Creek, and throws you back into more 25-30 MPH curves where you can sink into your seat and feel the centrifugal force pull you down as you crank on the gas and high tail it out like a cardshark from a poker table.

And I could tell Blackbird was ready for the stuff.

After some 2,500 miles of Interstate, she kept leaping at the slightest touch of her throttle. She was like a lioness targeting Harley riders and chomping at the bit to chew 'em up and spit 'em out. But she responded with grace and purred like a fine-tuned piece of machinery weaving in and out of $30,000 Road Kings and $40,000 Ultra Classics, and doing it while taking only light sips of fuel.

It's times like these that I get to appreciate what a sport touring bike has to offer. It'll tackle the road with the agility of a cheetah, let you pack on the pounds of luggage like a mule, and go long distances between stops like a camel.

So after laying dozens of Harleys to waste, I ended up in the tiny hamlet of Rochford, which itself was slammed with bikers for its meager little drinking establishment. I kept going, but ended up down the wrong road.

I found myself on S Rochford Road (letters B, C and D in the map), which is all hard pack gravel. I stopped to look at the map on my phone.  A local stopped to help me, and advised I could keep going, take one important turn, and get to my ultimate destination, Hill City. So, I took the road and gave it a shot.

If the Honda ST1300 does something lousy, it's handling surfaces other than pavement. Any speed over 30 MPH in a curve, and it slides too easily with its smooth sport tires.

By the time I got to Hill City, I found a new brewery called Sick-n-Twisted Brewing. It's actually a part of Naked Winery. Pretty good beer there though, and the chef made me a burger to my liking, with plenty of chiles and hot stuff.

The ride back into Sturgis was along US-385, a little more straight, but still offers some good curves.

Later in the evening, Sash and I met Troy and Ang, the couple who produces "Ride Stop N Go", a guide to great places to take your motorcycle. Sash and Ang had actually followed each other on social media for some time, and it was by coincidence they were staying at Sturgis RV Park as we were, and just a few cabins down from us. So, we hit the town with them and got to chat for awhile.

Wooden bridge over North Fork Rapid Creek	S. Rochford Road is hard pack gravel	Cattle watching me as I ride past them
A pretty scene at Mercedes Gulch, S. Rochford Road	Naked Winery, Sick-N-Twisted Brewing, Hill City	US-385 northbound, is full of bikers
Sick-N-Twisted brewing makes pretty good beer and burgers	Dinner at The Knuckle Saloon, Sturgis	And it comes with saddlebags for long road trips
Sash and Ang striking a pose in Sturgis	This police officer asked for his photo with Sash	Little Red Hiding Hood, you sure are looking good

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North Platte, NE, July 22-23

Lincoln Highway (I-80) Wyoming

Lincoln Highway is the first transcontinental highway in the United States, having been dedicated in 1913. Originally it connected Times Square in New York with Lincoln Park in San Francsico.

It was the first memorial to Abraham Lincoln, predating the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC by 9 years.

Since then, it has gone through numerous realignments.

Much of the route Sash and I have been on from Utah to here in Nebraska, has been along the current incarnation of the Lincoln Highway. Four years ago, on my way back from Alaska, I wrote about riding a portion of it along US-93 through Ely, NV.

Evidence of Lincoln Highway's presence can be seen along the entire stretch of the I-80 and paralelling US-30. We've seen bridges with "Lincoln" in the name. There's a Lincoln Memorial Statue between Laramie and Cheyenne. There are restaurants and cafes with menu items like "Lincoln Burger" or "Lincoln Highway Omelette".

But the Lincoln still doesn't seem to have all kitsch and celebrity that Route 66 has. Even though Lincoln Highway predates Route 66 by about 13 years, and it runs a longer distance, it seems to generate less interest. Perhaps it's because it opened up at a time when automobile travel wasn't significant, or maybe because folks preferred to go to Los Angeles instead of San Francisco.

Once Sash and I left Wyoming and entered into Nebraska, the Lincoln Highway leaves the I-80 and continues along the US-30.

There's actually a Lincoln Highway Association that displays a map of all the routes it once ran, and they publish some cool media about the entire length: http://www.lincolnhighwayassoc.org/

We pulled into North Platte, NE on a Tuesday night, with storm clouds rolling in from the north.  It was a really long day, and our bodies were full of aches and pains.  After some tacos and burritos from a nearby Taco John's, we hit the sack early.

Here's photos of our day from Rawlins, WY to North Platte, NE...

Sash met a new friend Stacy a fellow motorcycle rider	Having lunch at CK Chuck Wagon in Laramie, WY	The Lincoln Memorial along the Lincoln Highway
We're along the I-80 near the Wyoming / Nebraska state line	They apparently live pretty well in Nebraska	Sash's reflection in the back of her turn signal
Sash's motorcycle behind tall grasses in Sidney, NE	A shot of Sash's motorcycle against Nebraska fields	Our bikes at a butt break in Sidney, NE
Flies eating the bug splatter off my bike	This fly held on for 12 miles at 80 MPH until he lost grip	Cabela's in Sidney, NE is big enough to be its own city
Sash along the I-80 in Nebraska	Nebraska should be called The Road Construction State	Sash still misses her sport bike
We met a V-Star 650 rider carrying as much stuff as Sash	Our bikes at a Flying J Truck Stop in Nebraska	My Honda ST1300 along the I-80
Dusk over Nebraska	If Darth Vader had married a biker chick...	Storm clouds coming in from the northwest

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Globe, AZ and the Drift Inn, Day 18

Drift Inn Saloon, Globe, AZ

Arizona is home dozens of beautiful desert highways that meander over hills and mountains, crossing over creeks and washes, treating motorcycle riders to spectacular views of rock formations pushed upwards by tectonic forces underground.

Over time, the wind and rains smoothes over their jagged edges and sprinkles them with swashes of yellows, greens, and purples from the Spring time flora. April and May is a beautiful show of colors throughout the Grand Canyon State.

US-60 between Globe and Queen Valley is a 38 mile course up and over the Pinal Mountains taking riders down into the valley floor where the mighty Phoenix metropolis rises up from the desert heat. Saguaro, Cholla, and Prickly Pear cactus line the rocky mountain sides with bright yellowy blossoms of Palo Verdes interspersed between. The US-60 curves and winds in wide gracefuls, perfect for a novice rider to enjoy what makes highway riding so much fun.

Sash and I started the day further to the east in Safford, an agricultural town along the US-70. I hadn't ever ridden this route before and was eager to satisfy my curiosity. I found largely straight road running through farm fields, cattle ranches, and Apache reservation. Once on the other side of the "rez", we rolled into Globe.

Globe is an old silver mining town, started in 1875, but soon converted into copper mining. Today, it still depends on its copper smelting operations.

But it's also known for the Drift Inn Saloon, a popular biker bar located in downtown along Broad St that goes back to 1902. On a weekday, when we stopped in for a bite, it was populated by locals. But on weekends, it's packed with bikers who ride out from the Phoenix area.

"We even have our own bike week in April", the bartender told us, showing us a photo of the last event. "They close off Broad Street and the whole place is filled with bikes."


An old Navajo indian, who apparently goes by the name of Bill, was there hawking his handmade jewelry. Locals says he's there numerous times a day.

"Are you from here?" he asked Sash.

"No", she answered.

And that was apparently the wrong answer. Because those who know him know not to trust him. Sash found a bracelet of his that she liked, and he started telling her about the silver and turquoise. After she bought it from him, locals came by to inspect, confirming it was fake.

"But I just liked the way it looked!" she kept trying to tell everyone. "And I liked the fact that he's out here working instead of sitting on the rez."

After paying our tab, we headed out.

At this point, US-60 takes over for US-70, taking us up and over the Pinal Mountains. Our destination was Surprise, where Arizona Harley Dude lives. He had once offered to put us up for the night, so we decided to redeem the offer.

That evening, the three of us went out to dinner.

Sash posing on her V-Star 650 in Safford, AZ

Cruising down US-70 between Safford and Globe

US-70 has some beautiful vistas in places

Inside Drift Inn, Globe, AZ

Front entrance of Drift Inn, Globe, AZ

US-60, west of Globe, crossing over the Pinal Mountains

Cool rock formations along US-60

Sash rides up front along US-60 heading into Gold Canyon

US-60 heading into Gold Canyon

Three of us riding through Surprise, AZ

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Gila National Forest Motorcycle Ride, Day 17

Rain on my windshield along US-180 south of Reserve, NM

Chile Rellenos, Twisties, and Wind. That about sums it up for Day 17 on our 3-week motorcycle road trip. Of course, as luck would have it, we'd have copious amounts of the breezy stuff, ample amounts of the curvy, and not quite enough of the cheesy.

"No, we don't get any snow or rain here", the American-Indian-looking attendant told us at the Magnum Gas Station in tiny Magdalena, NM, "Just a lot of wind."

Sash and I thought that after yesterday's 304-miles of crosswinds down the I-25 through New Mexico, we'd catch a break the following day by going west over the mountains. But it wasn't to be. I tend to think that the winds were just a little more intense today than yesterday. If anything, it was more cold, and there were places where it rained and even hailed a bit.

The third day on our journey home from Denver, today was the day we planned for back roads riding, ultimately taking us to Safford, AZ for the night.

We left our hotel room in Socorro, NM at 10:00am this morning, heading west along US-60, going into the Cibola National Forest. We didn't need to see the grasses swaying horizontally to know that the winds were blowing at us hard. It seems there was a storm further ahead that would eventually dump rain on us.

We stopped in Magdalena, a tiny town that doesn't even show up on Google maps until you zoom in at a bird's eye level. We needed something to eat and drink because we had left our hotel room in haste, trying to beat the coming storm. It turns out that the gas station in town has never heard of a "low carb diet", because all they had to satisfy my requirements was a bag of pork rinds and water.

But it was enough.

Because up ahead we'd drop into the San Agustin Plains, where crosswinds blow really hard.  They blew so hard that random gusts threatened to shove me sideways into the shoulder. I moved my feet to the passenger pegs and laid down on the gas tank to minimize the profile, and it seemed to help.


In the tiny town of Datil, we stopped at Eagle Guest Ranch, a combination restaurant and gas station, to warm up and fill up with fuel. They were selling locally made elk jerky and elk sausage, so I picked up a sausage, which was a dollar cheaper than the jerky, and 3oz more in weight.

"How does this work?" a Harley rider asked me as he pulled up next to me at the pump. "I take it you're supposed to go inside and pay?"

"No", I replied. "You pump first and pay later."

"Oh, that goes to show how old this place is!" he said.

NM-12 was the highway I was actually waiting for. It started at Datil and ended at Reserve. It didn't look very twisty, it was just a road I hadn't ever ridden before. At first it was just more of the same wide open country with long straight road, but eventually it gave way into wide graceful curves which progressed into a little more tight, but still sweeping turns.

Motorcycle riding was starting to get fun.

At Reserve, we stopped for lunch.

Something inside me said that I should go to that mexican restaurant instead of the bar. But I passed it by thinking that Sash probably wanted something more American or cafe-like. When she stopped me and asked if I wanted to go to the bar, I shook my head and pointed at the mexican restaurant.

It turns out the special of the day at Carmen's Mexican Restaurant was chile rellenos. And these were some damn good chile rellenos. I asked the server if these were Hatch Green Chiles, but she didn't know. I suspected they were. These had enough heat in them to generate a light amount sweat from my scalp.

Eventually we rode down US-180, a highway I rode several years ago when my buddies and I did some camping along the Coronado Trail. It's curvy but fast, and offers great scenic views of the San Francisco Mountains.

The route into Safford, AZ would take us along Highways 78 and 191, dropping us some 3,000 feet of elevation into the Upper Gila River Valley. Highway 78 was perhaps the tightest of the twisties, giving Sash the most challenge of the entire road trip.

But the wind never stopped the entire time. Even here in Safford, at the lowest elevation of the day, it's still blowing.

Tomorrow, we head into Phoenix, which should be our last stop of the road trip.

Sash riding along US-60 east of Socorro, NM

Entering Magdalena, NM via US-60

Sash posing at Magnum Gas in Magdalena, NM

Breakfast of champions: chile flavored pork rinds and bottled water, Magnum Gas, Magdalena, NM

We passed this Harley rider named "Michael", who caught up to us at Eagle Guest Ranch in Datil, NM, he's on his first day of a 2-week motorcycle road trip.

This is one of 27 radio telescopes among an observatory called, "Very Large Array" along US-60 in the San Agustin Plains.

The winds blew so fierce across the San Agustin Plains, that I laid down on my tank to reduce the profile.

Eagle Guest Ranch restaurant and gas station at Datil, NM, where you pump first and pay later.

NM-12 westbound, Horse Peak on the right.

This hairy, dirty, highway walker seen along NM-12

Yet another hairy, dirty highway walker along NM-12

Carmen's Mexican Restaurant, Reserve, NM

One of two Chile Rellenos I had at Carmen's Mexican Restaurant

A couple of switchbacks coming up along US-180, south of Glenwood, NM

Riding along US-180 New Mexico

Descending elevation along AZ-78 in Arizona

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