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May 2010 Colorado, Utah, Arizona, New Mexico

It’s may 13, but a good day because I am on an airplane heading to Colorado to visit my brother and to ride my 89 Goldwing for the first time. I used to keep my Roadking at my brothers but I brought it home last year after our Las Vegas trip because my good friend Craig bought a New Orleans police bike and I now had a friend to ride with at home. I found the Honda Goldwing on Craigslist for 3k which was 1000 less than I sold my Sportster for a few weeks earlier. This worked out great because it gave me almost enough money to take care of needed maintenance on the wing. The only issue with the bike is a possible battery draining problem, but if I’m lucky a new battery will resolve the problem.

I’m on the flight home now after another successful trip. I replaced the battery on the bike and we had no mechanical problems on our ride other than Davids tail light bulb needs replacing. We started out in hopes of reaching Grand Junction, but the weather didn’t cooperate, it was cold and cloudy and after we got onto I-70 a light snow began to fall. The higher in elevation we got the heavier the snow got. We stopped at a gas station to reassess our situation, and met a fellow there that had just came from the west over the passes and he told us of cars spinning out and sliding around on the ice, so our hopes of continuing much farther were over, however we decided to try for the next town. As we rode the snow started to build up on my windshield and the windshield on my Goldwing is too tall to see over so I began to worry about my visibility. With only a few inches of visibility to go David whom I was following stopped at an exit and we cleaned the snow off our windscreens. Unfortunately I failed to notice that although the snow was gone there was a muddy streaky film on my screen so that I only had a few streaks of clear visibility which meant it was almost impossible to see any ice patches that might be forming on the road. We made it to the next town and were both relieved to make it off the interstate in one piece. We found a room and proceeded to the bar for a glass of Canadian whiskey. After a few rounds of doubles we had a good meal of potato soup and a hamburger. When we got back to the room David noticed a herd of five deer in the yard right across the street from us which we took as a good omen.

The next morning our bikes had a few inches of snow on them but it was clear so we decided to try to make it over the passes. The roads were wet and we didn’t encounter any ice until we were near Loveland pass. Fortunately it was in small patches and we were going really slow with my emergency flashers on an we were able to avoid most of them. However Vail pass is higher than Loveland pass and the stories we had heard the night before were about Vail pass. Needless to say we were ridding pretty puckered up as we climbed higher up the mountain because we knew if we hit a large ice patch we were going down and if that didn’t kill us a car would probably run us over. Lady luck was on our side as well as the sun which had dried much of the road allowing us to make over the mountain safely. David did tell me later that we were not ever gonna try that again.

We were headed to Moab to some warmer weather! At one of our gas stops a fellow biker told us to take the second Cisco exit which would take us on a road that follows the Colorado river all the way to Moab It turned out to be a beautiful curvy road following the Colorado river canyon. At one point we stopped for a some picture taking and as we were leaving some French tourists asked to take a photo of me holding their baby on my bike. Maybe it was because I had my saints cap on which has a fleur de leis on it or maybe they just felt like “surrendering” their kid to me but regardless I gave it back and we kept riding. Moab was a cooler tourist town than I remembered from when Jo and i were there a few years ago and unfortunately it is quite popular in the spring. There was not a single room open in the whole town which left us with the unfortunate prospect of heading back north to the interstate to Green River Utah to find a room.

This would be my third night in Green River and David’s fourth. At least there is one decent restaurant there and rooms are fairly cheap. We wound up staying at the same motel as last year I think it was a motel 6, anyway it was kinda like a homecoming and it is the place where Craig coined the term “Mikers” for us. We drank a pint of Canadian whiskey in our room then went outside to smoke a cigar. Our room was right next to the laundromat on the corner of the building and it was a breezy night. As we stood there smoking and talking I noticed little balls of fine lint varying in size from a dime to a half a dollar dancing on the pavement in a spotlighted area. They would dance in unison twirl up into the air and the back to the ground for a solo performance. The largest one made several passes at me before stopping right at my feet. I picked it up and set it adrift into the breeze where it made a few spins then came right back to me. It seems this odd creature wanted to be my friend. It followed me on the sidewalk a bit before darting out again for another dance and when it came back this time it had another dust bunny friend with it. They both paused in front of me before leaving together into the darkness I’m not sure what this means but mystical things happen out west and it made David and I remember an Apache shaman that we met near Taos New Mexico when we rode out to see the sunset at the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. We saw him there alone chanting and doing a native dance on the edge of the gorge. We were the only people out there and afterward he came over and shared his story and said an Indian prayer for us. It was pretty damn mystical. We kinda felt like we were on a journey to Ixlan. Greenriver… enough said.

The next morning we drank our free motel coffee and a vending machine pastry and headed out.
To be continued…

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