| Overnight Ride to Bluff, Utah | ||||||||||||
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Moab, Blanding, Bluff, Aneth, Cortez, Dolores-to-Norwood road, Ridgway, Montrose.
September 15 and 16, 2005. —Verle Nelson
Highlights:
Cedaredge, Colorado
Narrative: Rear tire: I stopped at Arrowhead Motorsports, south of Moab, to visit with Fred Hink. I made a U-turn on the concrete slab in front of his shop, preparing for an easy departure through Fred's sandy driveway on the heavy Mean Streak I was riding. Fred quickly noticed my rear tire was dangerously worn. I was slow to grasp that Fred was right. The tire should easily have gone another 3000 miles. Most disturbing to me was yet another example of my age-induced tendancy to make assumptions. This is the second time I've owned this Mean Streak. I bought it new, rode it about 6,000 miles, installed a new OEM Dunlop rear tire, then sold or traded the Mean Streak. Eleven months later I bought the Mean Streak back with only another 200 or 300 miles on it — or so the odometer indicated. Therefore, the 2nd rear tire should have lasted until about 12,000 miles. That's the assumption I made. Unfortunately, I didn't examine the tire as closely as I would have had I not believed I knew the history of the bike. Somehow, conditions changed during the time I didn't own the bike. Either the bike got 3000 or more miles on it that don't show on the odometer or somehow the tire got replaced with a used one. Whatever happened, the rear tire was finished at Moab after only 2600 miles according to the odometer. Lucky for me Fred had the correct size in stock or I might have been stranded for several days. Thanks Fred. Hidden Restaurant: I like food different from the standard rural American meat-and-potatoes fare — except I do like an occasional really good hamburger but on this day I had already had a good hamburger in Moab. When I checked into the Recapture Lodge in Bluff, I saw a hand-written menu for a Cow Canyon Restaurant. I've been in Bluff many times but hadn't seen any Cow Canyon Restaurant. The Motel owner told me it was at the junction of US 191 and UT 163. I replied, "I go by there often. I've never seen a restaurant." "It's there," she said. "It's a gourmet restaurant. You better try it." Who wouldn't try it. I went looking for the elusive Cow Canyon Restaurant. The somewhat dilapidated and seemingly small buildings at that intersection are old and charming but otherwise unimpressive. Nothing about them makes one suspect they contain a restaurant. There was no sign indicating there was a restaurant or for that matter any business except for one prominent "OPEN" sign next to a rather ordinary door. I peeked in, seeing a pottery shop and a Native-American lady in a rocking chair. "Is there a restaurant here?" I asked. "Yes," she said. We open at six." I was early. I said I would be back and rode off to check some local places that interested me. Back at six, I asked the lady how to find the restaurant. She said she would check and see if they were ready. They were and the Native-American lady led me through several rooms to what seemed to be an enclosed porch with a half-dozen tables, each set for four. I chose a seat. I had not seen a kitchen or anything, other than the tables, that suggested a restaurant. Another Native-American lady brought a hand printed and dated menu. There were maybe a half-dozen entrees varying from Italian pasta to a chicken enchilada but two things caught my eye: feta plate and wine list. A wine list in Bluff Utah? Although fond of feta cheese, I wasn't sure what a "feta plate" was but I would soon know. I told the waitress I wanted the feta plate and asked if I could buy wine by the glass. She named a white wine and said I could have Yellow Tail Merlot for red. "That Yellow Tail Merlot is a long way from its Australian home," I suggested. She grinned and nodded. The food came after a reasonable wait: stir-fried Zucchini, red peppers, mushrooms and purple onion, topped with feta cheese and a generous sprinkling of Calamata olives, served with a dollop of Hummus and some excellent bread. Very good and just the light meal I needed after my heavy lunch hamburger. I had a second glass of Yellow Tail Merlot. Upon leaving, I asked the Native-American lady up front why no sign. She replied, "A recent tornado blew it down." I said I thought they were trying to hide. "That too," she countered. Recapture Lodge: I really like the Recapture Lodge. The aging structure with its mature trees, shrubs and plants, is so different, so far removed from the boring, prefabricated-looking chain motels that I can't imagine why everyone wouldn't find the Recapture Lodge as charming as I do. Yet I'm sure many people would not like it at all. There is no phone in the room, no microwave, no coffee pot; it does have a TV but it doesn't get much. What it has is lawn chairs in front of the rooms where folks gather to visit in the evening. After returning from dinner, I met a very nice family from Florida: a father a few years older than me, his wife, son and son's wife. The father was a Pentecostal Minister, his son a tug boat builder, the whole family the personification of spiritual grace. People who know me would likely assume I had nothing to say to such people. They would be wrong. We had a wonderful visit. Despite the sincerity and innocence of their beliefs, they never once inquired as to my believes or in any way attempted to impose theirs. The minister, although his concept of the world may have been fundamental, was no fool. Seeing the American West for the first time, he talked extensively about the magnificence of the canyons, bluffs and monuments. His conclusion: "It's clear to me this was caused by erosion, a huge amount of erosion. I don't know how old the earth is but this took a really long time." Amen! Great slide show: I don't usually attend free slide shows offered by places I stay but the friendly, community atmosphere of the Recapture Lodge inspired me to attend this one. I'm glad I did. The show was presented by artist and photographer J. R. Lancaster, a native of Louisiana who has spent many years on the Navajo Nation and around Bluff, Utah. His slides were interesting, his presentation abundant with historical facts made all the more interesting by his booming voice and cultured southern accent. Really Big Surprise: Inspired by how well the big Mean Streak did on sandy roads around Bluff, I decided to further explore its potential for off-pavement travel. It had to be a fairly smooth road, though. The Mean Streak has only about 4 1/2 inches of ground clearance with the engine sump being the lowest point. With the suspension fully compressed, there is probably no ground clearance at all. One must choose roads carefully. I knew just the road. The back road from Dolores Colorado to Norwood Colorado is sixty miles long. This road is paved on each end but there are 45 miles or more of good, graded gravel between. It's a pretty, winding road with few long straights. One pass has a couple tight switchbacks with cobblestone-like rocks embedded in mud. There is some washboarding on hills. After a summer's traffic, the gravel is thin on the straights. There is usually more loose gravel in the corners. Nine thousand miles on the Mean Streak and I hadn't ventured far off pavement until this trip. I first left the pavement somewhat timidly. Quickly it was apparent timidity was not required. I caught and passed a pickup and continued to pick up the pace. Here's the big surprise: I have never ridden anything more stable on a graveled road. Nothing has ever been more planted in the corners. And, despite the massive torque this engine has, nothing I've ridden could hook up nearly as well on corner exits. Maybe it's the weight. Probably the long wheelbase and a lot of trail helps. Whatever the reasons, it really works well on the right road. I thought, with limited suspension travel, the Mean Streak would be a rough ride but it handled washboard better than my DL650. The 45 miles went way too quickly and I was sorry to see the pavement resume. Many people may not believe this; more may think I'm exaggerating. What ever people think, nothing will diminish my memories of an exhilarating ride. Torque is a wonderful thing if you can get it to the ground. Riding critique: I feel really fortunate that San Miguel County (Telluride) has the resources to hire the the best law officers. Perhaps these people are more intelligent, more likely to see other than black and white or letter of the law. In any case, a member of the San Miguel County Sheriff's Office, who’s name I won't mention here, observed me riding in ways I won't describe here but clearly weren’t legal. I'm fortunate this officer was a really nice guy. The infractions began above Norwood Hill but the encounter occurred in San Miguel Canyon where a construction site worker stepped into the center of my lane with his stop sign. "I would have let you through," he said, "but I got a 'hold' order." I didn't know what he meant. We visited a bit and I hardly noticed the white SUV pulling up behind me -- until a guy in uniform got out and asked me to move over to the side where we could talk. We talked. He listed my infractions. I tried to be humble. He never lectured but got his message across fine. He asked if I had received any tickets recently. It had been more than a year. He asked what my last ticket was for. I had to say "speeding" because he probably already knew. He asked where and unfortunately it was the same road, closer to Naturita. Finally he said, "I can either give you a warning or issue a citation. Which do you believe would work best to slow you down?" As humbly as possible I replied, "I gotta say I believe the warning would work best." I got the warning. I told him I really appreciated this and would sincerely try to back off some.
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