Leaving Cedaredge, Colorado on my DL650 around 8:30 A.M. Wednesday morning, August 25, I rode over Grand Mesa on a beautiful blue-sky morning and headed west on I-70 for Utah, Green River and beyond. I left I-70 at exit 147, heading south to Hanksville on UT24, then on through Capitol Reef National Park to Torry where scenic and often-praised UT12 would take me up on Boulder Mountain, my camping destination for the first night. I got there early in the afternoon, only a little after 1:00 P.M. This was fine. I could hike a little, sit a little, and otherwise do nothing at all until time to uncork a bottle of wine and have a meal of self-heating Chicken and Vegetable Casserole from Modern Outpost in Canada. My campsite, one I had used on other occasions, was off the highway, nestled among the Ponderosa and Aspen trees on the edge of the mountain with an expansive view of Capitol Reef country to the east, the Henry Mountains in the near distance and LaSal Mountains in the far distance. Friend Ernie of Chattanooga refers to this spot as "Camp Perfect." Good name. Camp Perfect was the only absolute on my itinerary. From there I would go wherever seemed right at the moment.

The Day 2 sun rose to a clear sky, the wind soon died, I packed and rode to Boulder, Utah for breakfast. While eating a good breakfast, big enough to embarrass me if I were to describe it, I decided to ride one of my favorite parts of UT12, the stretch west from Boulder to Escalante, Utah. Thirty miles of spectacular road over high plateaus and narrow, road-width ridges with deep drops on either side -- in once place, so narrow there is no room for a shoulder on either side. Spectacular and scenic which is why it often gets mentioned in magazines. Just outside of Escalante, I turned around and headed back east to Boulder.

A couple miles short of the descent into Boulder valley, I turned off on the graveled Hells Backbone road, the longer, original road to Boulder from Escalante. It had been years since I traveled this road; I tried to remember when. It had to be in '74 when my wife and I crossed the Aquarias Plateau on primative roads riding an 850 Norton Interstate with Bates handlebar-mount fairing and Craven panniers. I know for sure we didn't go through Escalante so we must have taken the Hells Backbone road to Boulder. We had been away from civilization for three days and needed food which we hoped to buy in Boulder. No restaurants or stores or at least none open. We settled for Twinkies, or something similar, at the local Gasoline Station before heading out to camp on the Burr Trail. The next day, we were able to get pre-packaged sandwiches at the Bullfrog Marina on Lake Powell. Better than nothing. Bullfrog Marina was a small place then -- just the marina and nothing else.

Anyway, I enjoyed this new trip over Hells Backbone road which is a pretty road with one outstanding feature: Hells Backbone Ridge, for which the road is named. Hells Backbone is a short but very narrow ridge connecting two plateaus, so narrow it was necessary to build a bridge, or trestle, to cross with wagons. The precipitous walls on both sides drop hundreds of feet to the floor below. Death Hollow on one side and another deep canyon on the other.

By noon, I was well past Boulder on the Burr Trail. After the big breakfast, I had not needed lunch. From midway along the Burr Trail, I had intended to take a road north along the Waterpocket Fold, ending up after 37 miles at UT24 near the east edge of Capitol Reef National Park, thus completing a loop from the day before. I soon changed my mind. The road north was graded desert, not graveled. I knew there would be sand. There was. Not more than a mile or two along, I was wallowing in deep sand. The sand stretches were much too long to use a heavy throttle hand to improve steering. Enhanced body-English from standing on the pegs seemed to work well enough but I wasn't going to stand on the pegs for 37 miles. I turned back and continued on the Burr Trail to UT296 near Bullfrog. From there I traveled east to UT95, then south over Hite crossing and on towards Blanding. At Blanding, I bought gasoline. I had traveled 236 miles without stopping. I guess the stock DL650 seat is good enough for me.

From Blanding I rode to Monticello where I went west from the visitor center on a road that gets up onto the east end of the Abajo Mountains, known locally as "The Blues." This road has only recently been paved and is pretty enough, winding first through pines and aspens, eventually emerging on the north side where one has a grand view of much of the Canyonlands area. There were numerous places where one could leave the pavement on an established trail. I chose such a place.

The trip home on Day 3 began on another beautiful, clear and delightfully cool morning. I left early and rode to Naturita, Colorado for breakfast. There is a little restaurant I really like in Naturita. Fresh baked stuff and other excellent food. I can never remember the name -- Sun-something. At least I know where it is and stop when I have an excuse. Breakfast was a good excuse.

After breakfast, I rode to Nucla and filled my tank intending to ride over the Uncompahgre Plateau on a graveled road (no, not highway 90, the other road from Nucla to Delta). A few miles out of town, I realized there were mean-looking storm clouds over the plateau and since that road can get greasy-slick in hard rain, I turned around. The storm seemed mostly to the north so I went south on CO145 and rode through Norwood, over Dallas Divide, through Ridgeway, Montrose, Delta and home to Cedaredge, getting sprinkled on lightly the last few miles.

It was a great ride with lots of secondary and remote roads, both paved and unpaved, for a trip total of 913 miles. The DL650 performed flawlessly. I find it ideal for this kind of riding.