Word of the day: HOT.
No, it wasn't yesterday's word; yesterday's word was DIFFICULT.
We were up late, of course. I slept fitfully, and he slept well listening to the creek. We chatted with Cliff again about life, work, and politics. I really aspire to be that cool and laid back. I really aspire to keep the adventure within and live life like they did and still do.
I love this little camp ground. Its pretty much all tent camping, so you don’t have to suffer through loud generators during the night. Plus, you have the added benefit of a beautiful rock face on both sides of the creek. Oh, and the turkey’s came to breakfast, a family of five meandered into our camp site.
This is where we bathed last night:
We blew through Boulder:
Sped along a ridgeline with the end goal of Bull Frog. I love Utah; their state motto should be “Drive at your own risk”, because guard rails are clearly overrated.
We moseyed our way down the Burr Trail. Mike’s iPod was playing a mix of bluesy rock, peppered with Eric Clapton; it set the mood.
A lazy ride through the gorgeous Long Canyon and into Capital Reef.
The desert was doing her best to reclaim the road.
This is where we left a pack of Harley's with their leather skinned ladies.
Capitol Reef awaits...
By the time we hit Capital Reef the bike was telling us that it was almost 100* outside. Lovely. I loathe the heat. (Go figure, I live and work in Phoenix) I couldn’t really enjoy the park and just wanted to get to Lake Powell. Plus the camera battery quit on me. Blech.
Before the camera quit, I did manage to snap some shots of a set of switchbacks we went down.
One more for the road.
We hit Bullfrog too early to just jump on the ferry towards Halls Crossing so we thought a meal would be nice. Nope. Apparently keeping your restaurant open all day is also overrated. That’s it, I officially hate Lake Powell communities. In each one we have been in, amenities have been scarce, everything is over priced yet cheap, and there is NO SHADE ANYWHERE.
If they hadn’t dammed up the river, there wouldn’t be any communities near the lake.
They didn’t even provide a small shade structure to sit under while waiting for the ferry. It was docked and empty, but they wouldn’t let us load. We baked in the sun for 25 minutes. Jerks.
Anyway...I dug out the little camera to document the final haul to Mexican Hat.
Baby, ah hem, I mean the Space Shuttle 990 had her maiden voyage across a body of water.
The GPS kept on tracking so according to the bike, we actually drove across the lake. I came up with a new tag line for KTM.....KTM, Jesus’ #1 choice in off road vehicles.
From Halls Crossing, Mike decided that he NEEDED steak in Mexican Hat. We blazed through and made it there by dusk.
Although half way down the Moki Dugway, the bike’s Oh Shit-o-meter, went off and told us that “hello, I need fuel idiots”. Mike poured our reserve in and we made it into Mexican Hat without having to call for help.
Of course, all of the regular motels were booked, so we ended up in the Budget, Roach Motel. We pretty much went to Mexican Hat for steak and a shower.
The steak (at the Mexican Hat Steak House, home of the swinging grill) was fantastic as usual. The shower was needed.
Good night Mexican Hat. Good night Utah.
Tomorrow, back to cooler temperatures and a rest day.