Departure: 10:00 A.M Sunday, Oct 2, 2005;
Distance: 818 miles, 145 unpaved;
Return 1:30 P.M. Monday, Oct 3, 2005

• Baxter Pass: finally, after two earlier mud-foiled attempts this year.
• Nine Mile Canyon: and 42 miles of lonly unpaved road getting there.
• Utah State Highway 72: one of my favorite Utah paved roads.
• Boulder View Inn: good motel close to a great restaurant.
• Cafe Diablo: a Master Chef in Torrey, Utah?
• Back Home via Moab: limited Interstate travel

Narrative:

Baxter Pass: Sunday is a good day for riding Baxter Pass. The Gas Well people are all home recovering from Saturday night; the ranchers are all in church praying for more rain and higher beef prices; the fall color-seekers are all elsewhere on better roads. Not much traffic. I saw three vehicles on the 80 miles of unpaved roads between Mack, CO and Bonanza, UT -- none on Baxter Pass. This trip seemed overdue. I never made it over Baxter last year; planned rides with other riders never happened. This year, a spring ride failed because of serious mud. Thursday, September 29, yet another attempt failed because of mud. No problems for Sunday, Oct 2 -- a beautiful but windy day. With no traffic and no mud (if one stayed out of the sometimes deep, ragged ruts and avoided the obvious water-filled holes which occasionally spanned nearly the width of the road), I made good time to the summit but could barely stand in the gusty wind and chose not to eat my lunch there. Not far down the north side I was out of the wind, surrounded and sheltered by pretty aspens. After descending Baxter Pass headed north, it's a long haul across the desert into Utah before one comes out on pavement just before the town of Bonanza. Turn right at pavement, choose the correct fork when the road splits and you will eventually intersect with US40 at the town of Vernal.

Nine Mile Canyon: My route was west on US40 to the small town Myton, near where one can find a well-marked road leading off towards about 51 miles of unpaved roads across desolate gas well country, up over a high area then abruptly down into winding canyons and eventually through Nine Mile canyon and out through ranch country to US191 near Wellington. For some reason I decided to leave US40 before I got to the well-marked road and attempt to intersect that road by a different route. It worked, but it was a long time before I was sure it had worked. A lot of the gas well roads are apparently new since I had been in the area. They go everywhere and all look alike. After several intersections I was certain I had lost my way. On one blind turn, I met an 18-wheeler tank truck (not gas, what? Oil?) on my side of the road, cutting the corner. I couldn't stop on the loose gravel; he was going too slow to maneuver. I managed to avoid the ditch and not clip the truck with my left handlebar but it was very close. After this incident, I decided I had better turn back, find US40 and look for the well-marked road. Before I found a good place to turn around, I came to an obviously older road and, on a hunch, decided to follow it. Good choice, but it was many miles before I finally saw a sign that confirmed that I could get to Nine Mile Canyon. Nine Mile canyon once seemed extremely isolated and remote with a few scattered ranches and farms, no electricity and only private telephone lines. It seems much less remote now with a "bunk-and-breakfast" place and even a government-built picnic area. The less-adventuresome tourists have found Nine Mile Canyon.

Utah State Highway 72: I chose to take Utah State Highway 10 south from Price about 70 miles to where I could go over or under (I forget which) I-70 and continue south on one of my favorite paved Utah roads, State Highway 72. I don't remember ever being on UT72 before this summer but now this makes my third time over it and I've never been disappointed. I always seem to have black thunderstorms looming in the west when I ride UT72. Maybe someday I will ride it on a hot, cloudless summer day and be unimpressed. Maybe not. Anyway, it's a good way to get to UT24 and east to Torrey, my destination for the evening. I made it to Torrey just after the sun set.

Boulder View Inn: I saw it on the Internet and the price seemed reasonable compared to other choices in this, the closest town to Capitol Reef National Park. The rates are seasonal in this area; perhaps the Boulder View rates dropped the first of October. I'm not sure what boulder this inn is supposed to view. They could be thinking of Boulder Mountain although this inn faces the opposite direction, viewing red canyon walls. Anyway, I was pleased and would probably stay there again if for no other reason the astonishing restaurant within easy walking distance.

Cafe Diablo: Some memorable adventures on overnight trips come from restaurants, even here in the southwest where one might assume there are few restaurants offering food more imaginative than steak and potatoes or maybe tacos and fajitas. But I continue finding exceptional restaurants or hearing about them. The influx of tourists from more metropolitan areas, even from European countries, provide the customer base, I suppose, but another phenomenon seems needed: well-trained and accomplished chefs who, for whatever reasons, have shunned big city opportunities. The more imaginative or brave of these people have come to unexpected places and opened unique restaurants. I'm always surprised when I find such places and worry they won't last but some do. I know of three "gourmet-quality" restaurants in three small Utah towns.

The Cafe Diablo of Torrey may be the most astonishing of these three. I didn't know about the Cafe Diablo until this trip. When I entered town, I saw the sign: "Cafe Diablo, Southwestern Cuisine." Another Mexican restaurant, I assumed. I noticed, though, that the parking lot was full at 7:00 P.M., well past dinner hour for rural people. Must be good, I thought. Perhaps I should try it.

After checking into the Boulder View Inn and freshening up, I walked the block-and-a-half or so to the Cafe Diablo, arriving around 8:00 P.M. The parking lot was still crowded and the restaurant was nearly full. The hostess could have been a New York model -- tall as an Amazon, classical beauty, aloof but not actually unfriendly. She perhaps wasn't happy to sacrifice a foursome table for only one person. But she seated me in one of two or three crowded and somewhat noisy rooms.

One of several busy waitresses brought me three single-page menus: one for "FIRST COURSES & SMALL PLATES," another for "MAIN COURSES," the third a comprehensive wine list. (is this really Utah?) Much of the menu was beyond my experience or comprehension and the prices were over my head. I ignored the appetizers and focused on the least expensive entrees with keywords I understood, like "steak." When the waitress returned, I ordered BEEF FLANK STEAK CARBON – $21 Sliced marinated beef steak with slivered vegetables, parmesan pitchfork & garlic straw potato. I asked for a glass of house Merlot which, at six dollars a glass, was as inexpensive as any wine offered.

While I waited, the waitress brought me a plate full of marinated "things." Some things I recognized easily: baby carrots, red peppers, green peppers, tomato strips and mushrooms. There were surprises such as a very hot small black chile pepper. There were other things I didn't recognize but suspected could be baby parsnips and perhaps a lichee nut. Oh yes, there was a piece of hard bread with an even harder crust -- I really liked it. I ate all these things except for a couple of the suspected baby parsnips which were hard to chew. The very hot small black chile pepper gave me the hiccups.

Observing neighboring tables, I noticed the chef had a penchant for arranging food in vertical structures wherever possible. Food that might normally be laying on a plate was somehow standing, often adorned with any number of imaginative arrangements of supporting food items. When my meal came, I wondered if perhaps it was a food sculpture. Was I really supposed to eat it? Dominant in the center of my plate was a hornet's nest setting vertically with the top cut off, the nest itself seemingly stuffed with more marinated peppers and things. The hornets nest was a lovely honey-brown rather than the usual gray. Surrounding the hornet's nest was a dozen buttons of flank steak, delightfully medium rare as I had requested. These rested in a broth or sauce too delicate to be called a gravy. Intruding into the circle of steak buttons was a strange butterfly-shaped, rough-textured pad stacked with thin, almost hair-like shreds of red and white onion. This was garnished with a rather large twig of some interesting plant. On the opposite side was a tiny loaf of bread in the shape of a Socorro cactus. Scattered about were steamed vegetables: I remember whole baby carrots and a whole Okra pod.

Okay, so I lack the necessary culinary knowledge and vocabulary to describe this meal. That didn't stop me from eating everything but the large twig from the unknown plant. This food was great! As I ate, I attempted to guess what I was eating. The hornet's nest was obviously something made and cooked although I have no idea what. It was good. Inside the hornet's nest, under the marinated peppers and things, it was filled with what I would call "mashed potatoes." The rough-textured butterfly-shaped pad under the fine shredded onion was probably shredded Parmesan cheese, grilled until melted. Whatever it was it was good. Everything was good.

The "LAST COURSES" were yet to come. I had seen waitresses bring other tables large round trays with examples of deserts, arranged vertically where possible of course. When I finished my entree, I accepted a presentation of the desert tray. Again, they had things I couldn't identify with descriptions I can't remember but it didn't matter. I have a weakness for chocolate with red wine. They had a most impressive slice of very dark chocolate cake, arranged vertically and the tallest thing on the tray. I ordered a slice. "It comes with a scoop of ice cream," the waitress explained. "What flavor would you like?" She named several. I didn't understand the first one. She said it again. I still didn't understand. "Will it go with chocolate?" I asked. "Oh yes!" she assured me. I ordered the cake and another glass of Merlot.

I don't like sweet stuff but this cake didn't look sweet, it looked dark. Six layers of very dark, moist and heavy cake, each layer separated by two shades of semi-sweet icing, the cake itself having been coated with these same two coatings. It was delicious. I don't normally eat desert so it means little if I can say it was the best cake I have ever eaten, but so it was. I ate it all and there was way too much.

I've eaten in famous restaurants in New York, New Orleans and other places. After eating in these restaurants, I could describe the food. No place I've ever eaten has been anything like the Cafe Diablo of Torrey, Utah. Will I go back again? Probably not. My dinner cost more than my room; I can't afford such extravagance. But I'm really glad I ate their once. It wasn't "another Mexican restaurant."

NOTE: The Cafe Diablo closes for the winter season on October 22.

Back Home via Moab: Riding through Capitol Reef National Park, headed to Hanksville on UT24, I considered heading home the fastest way: I-70 east beyond Palisade, CO and over Grand Mesa to Cedaredge. This would get me home before noon but I wasn't in the mood for Interstate travel. At Crescent Junction I turned south on US191, headed for Moab and a brief visit with Fred at Arrowhead Motorsports. It was too early for lunch and I wanted to get home by mid-afternoon at the latest. I rode on south to La Sal Junction, then east to Paradox Valley. Just beyond the Dolores River Bridge at Bedrock, I turned onto a gravel road marked, appropriately enough, "River Road." This unpaved road follows the Dolores River through a winding canyon and eventually crosses the San Miguel River at Uravan. From there, it's CO141, one of my favorite Colorado paved roads, through Dolores Canyon to Gateway and on through Unaweep Canyon to Whitewater where it's an easy 50 mile ride home to Delta on US50 and paved back roads to Cedaredge.