Moab 2012 - Bittersweet

In Loving Memory of my Sister; Deborah Anstey (August 26 1963 - May 31st 2012). Your time with us was far too brief and without goodbye.​

This trip was a long time in the planning, and inspired by countless ride reports that came before it. I have heard it said that Adventure begins when things stop going as planned and in that case this was pure adventure from the start. I spent many long hours pouring over Google maps, and actual paper maps in an effort to plot out an interesting, efficient, run down to Moab from Calgary. It had just a taste of dirt along the way in an effort to keep all the players happy, and get us to our real objective, Moab.

The Players:

There would be four of us to start the journey; one co-worker, Paul- riding a BMW F 650 GS, a well traveled, enthusiastic, but prefers pavement rider. Paul would have to leave the group early in order to meet another group in Salt Lake the second day of the week we would be in Moab.

Two of the riders, friends, met through ADSMC (Alberta Dual Sport Motorcycle Club) a couple of years back. Chris, riding a bored out Suzuki DR 650, and an accomplished sport bike rider, as well as an enthusiastic, natural dirt rider.

Paul, riding a hopped up KLR 650 (bored, jetted and piped), another skilled sport bike rider, new to, but enthusiastic and skilled in the dirt.




Then there's me, Lee (Lycan1 on ADV) riding the KTM 990 Adventure that I call the Orange Dragon, named for it's seeming ability to bite me without warning and be a handful off-road for a guy my size. I am always up for off-road exploring and prefer the dirt to pavement, even though I come from a long sport bike background. Skill-wise; working to become a better dirt rider always.


Last Minute Panic:

After careful route planning and painstaking GPX building using the Dualsportmaps.com site and loading my new Garmin - Montana with tracks for the trip, in stepped Mother Nature. The Friday Morning before the Saturday departure I flipped on the news. Weekend storms with significant snowfall in all the passes that lay between Utah and us were being predicted and shown in nasty pink and white on the weather radar. So starts the Adventure and the scramble to make this work, as delaying the trip was not an option! I poured over the weather network site and highway atlas, re-plotting a route that would skirt around the bad weather and still get us to Moab close to what was originally planned. It seemed that as long as we stayed west of Kalispell and headed south to Boise we would miss most of the bad weather. Unfortunately this would add about 500 miles to our trip and put us a day behind schedule. I called the Campground in Moab to bump our reservation up a day and then started putting together new GPX tracks since I had never been to Idaho before. Three hours later I had a route to Boise and across to Arco ID planned out, that would at that point get us back onto the original plan. It would be a bit of a push, even to keep on the day behind schedule and I made sure the others of the group were aware and prepared for this reality. They were all in agreement that riding a bit harder in good weather was preferable to getting shut down in snow storms along the way. OK, panic over, game on!

Departure day Arrives:

We had planned to meet at the south end of Calgary and start the trip with a good breakfast at one of my favorite spots, Cora's. This part of the original plan actually went as planned. I arrived early to get a table (and parking spot) at this notoriously busy restaurant. Paul on the KLR arrived second, loaded up and looking like a world traveler, then came the other Paul on the BMW, ready for adventure and looking the part. Chris rolled in right behind him with the DR decked out for the run, and looking relaxed and cool.


Trip begins in Calgary with Breakfast


While I had been waiting for the guys, another rider on a white BMW GS800 who had been at Cora's (when I arrived) went outside and circled the KTM numerous times poking and prodding various parts, seemingly fascinated with the Adventure bike. I had to grin and think Orange Envy? even though normally, some stranger touching my bike would have me outside in a hurry and not to act as tour guide. This morning though, I was feeling relaxed and generous, but did keep a close eye on him though.


Damn paparazzi in Longview AB.


No, no, no..... That is not how you do Y. M .C. A.


DR's make me feel good!


After a long, great breakfast we saddled up and set off in the sunshine for a date with US Customs in Roosville Montana, just north of Eureka. The plan was to make it to Sandpoint ID by days end. The weather was great heading down and it seemed bizarre to think that a nasty storm was growing east of Glacier National Park in Montana. Customs was a breeze and we stopped just down the road in Eureka at a nice little diner on the corner of highway 37 and 93 for a late lunch. We carried on to Libby on 37 and down 56 south to hook up with 200 west into Sandpoint. The roads and scenery were great. We were winging it as to a place to camp but the map had shown a number of campgrounds around Sandpoint so we figured it would be easy to find one. As we crossed the bridge on the south end of the city I spotted a sign on the right, just at the end of the bridge and turned west, following the road past the fish hatchery. Not much further down on the right was the campground and we rolled in hoping it wasn't full being the Memorial Day long weekend in the States. As luck would have it we had our choice of a few sites and the hosts were gracious enough to let us all share one site keeping the cost for the night to $5 per person. The campsite had nice clean facilities and was well off the major roads, making it quiet. We even managed to have a small campfire and some nice single malt before the weary travelers drifted off to their respective nylon enclosures for the night. It felt good to have skirted the storms for now and put in a good days ride.



To be continued....

........

The second morning in Sandpoint started early and the campground showers were nice and clean and cheap by Canadian standards needing only a quarter to run instead of a dollar. We decided that an early start and a couple of hours of seat time before breakfast would be a good way to make miles, and restaurants rarely open at 5 a.m. anyway. We broke camp and hit the highway with me leading the group and acting as navigator, which would be the norm, this trip (only Paul on the BMW and myself had GPS units). I had never been to Coeur D'Alene so I didn't realize that most of the town was east of the highway, passing through the north end and not seeing anything suitable for breakfast and figured, how far could it be until the next little town, oops. Sometime later we finally came upon a little town (whose name escapes me) and found a little local diner. The parking lot was fairly busy which is usually a good sign. Everything was good except the coffee (I went out in the parking lot and shaved the fur off my tongue after a cup of that stuff, yuck),
Insert Starbucks comment here.


We rolled on to Lewiston stopping at the overlook for pictures, then other than fuel stops carried on south.

OK, which pocket did I put the camera in???



At Grangeville we carried on south on 95 and after a few rain drops, I stopped to ask the guys if they wanted to suit up for the rain. The consensus was, if it gets bad we can stop. Not long after it started to get heavier but intermittently and I kept checking my six to see if the guys were pulling over and they weren't so I carried on after all my suit is rainproof (to some degree). By the time we hit New Meadows it was pounding down gale force and when I pulled into the Chevron. "I though you were going to stop if it started raining?" Sorry. After lunch and fuel we suited up (barn door closed, after horse escaped ) and headed east toward McCall and hwy 55. The highway into McCall was a blast, even in the rain with a loaded down bike on knobbies. After McCall, not so much, but at least the rain relented before Eagle where we pulled over to strip off the (dry by now) rain gear.




We weaved through Boise and tried to find a campground. The locals that I quizzed (don't ask kids at Sonic) had no clue and the only one that came up on Paul's Zumo 660 turned out to be a RV Only up by the industrial park (by the truck stop) at the south end of the city. I was tired and hungry and getting grumpy and I am pretty sure that I wasn't the only one. We very quickly decided that a hotel would be just fine after another long day and crappy weather for a good portion of it. Thankfully we found one to fit the bill a couple of minutes away. Despite our appearance when we walked through the lobby door, they actually had rooms, and there was a pub across the street that was still open by the time we were somewhat presentable. We managed a couple of rounds before last call and a few snacks. I was excited because by afternoon tomorrow we would be back on track and the forecast looked great! Sleep came quickly when my lids slammed shut.

much more to come......

Can't stop reading. You must write more!

Good stuff! Subscribed!


Was the rider of the DR650 enjoying the long highway sections?

And to poke fun a bit, I know guys traveling the world with less gear then you guys have!

I look forward to more updates!

Subscribed, keep up the good work

Yup, he... er me, was having a great time Honestly the lack of a fairing was not much of an issue although the 75mph highway runs (which were kept to a minimum - Thanks to Lycan's excellent trip planning) were a little taxing on the arms I must admit! I was, however, nursing a freshly rebuilt big bore so I was the slow guy not wanting to rev it high too soon.

Great write up Lee! Subscribed!!! I can't wait to see how this turns out I've got a CD burned of my pix which I'll try to get to you so we can have some pix of you rather than just your entourage

How did the bike handle the droning highway though?

Just curious, as I'd love to build a DR650 for adventure touring. IMO, the best bike for that type of work.

For a windscreen a relatively cheap Universal Cycle one does wonders! It's what I used and would never think of doing another trip without it. Some chop up 990ADV windscreens too and adapt them to their stock headlight. I'll know how those work in 3 weeks. (990 on a TrailTech X2)

Thanks, I'm working on it

Payner already answered I see.

It will only get better, Idaho is nice (and surprisingly varied) but not what we came for.


We had to look the part in case we happened across any Starbucks, the luggage was empty....

Thanks I'll try, the pictures will get more grande as the days go by. It is therapeutic writing this report, as initially I had no intention of, but my sister's death during the trip changed my perspective on a few things.

Thanks I'll try, the pictures will get more grandeur as the days go by.It is therapeutic writing this report, as initialy I had no intention of, but my sister's death during the trip changed my perspective on a few things. [/QUOTE]

So sorry to hear about your sister Lee. Glad you've found a way to cope through writing. Take it easy man.

That's planning ahead! Good work.

That is hilarious! Cheers.

Sorry about your sister man, that can be rough. I am glad you are writing this though. When my mother passed away a few months ago I realized that I can sit there in shock wondering how the world can just pass without even seemingly noticing, and simultaneously get myself steam-rolled, or I can try to grieve while still going on with my life; I chose the latter. It seems like this is what you have chosen to do as well, congrats on that choice, honestly, and best wishes.


I look forward to reading your trip report.

Regards,

Morning in Boise started well with bright sunshine and mild temperatures and a bit of exercise dragging stuff back to the bikes. The Hotel, Best Western Airport, had a breakfast of sorts included, but for 3 of us we were feeling a little more carnivorous so we trekked next door to Denny's (it was close, what can I say). Chris felt like eating a bit healthier.


Seeing the four of us at the pool the next day, he seems to be making the better choices. We then did what would be the first of an increasingly frequent chain adjusts on the DR. Truth be told, Chris did all the adjustments and we provided bike leverage services. Then we had a mercifully short blast down the ruler straight I-84 to Mountain Home where we headed east toward Arco on hwy 20. The highway twists up gaining altitude quickly and was a change from the last two days. It wasn't long before we started seeing Aspens.




The view from Castle Rock ID viewpoint


Unfortunately the highway hits a plateau and then becomes a droning rubber wasting straight line for a long time before getting interesting again after Picabo. Not long after that we hit that magic spot where we re-joined my original track at Craters of the Moon just west of Arco ID. We started seeing the surreal landscape quite suddenly and then for some time before actually getting to the park entrance.


Alien landscape at Craters of the Moon Park.




Breaking out the big lens for some better backgrounds.


The black, and rust colored lava field is very alien looking in an otherwise very green landscape. I (despite my research) had no idea that the road that loops through the park is seven miles long, so I wondered why they would charge $4 to get in. It was worth it, and we spent a few hours riding, hiking, and (me) shooting video as we drove around. We were warm in our gear but there was a welcome breeze blowing across the barren landscape. On the way out we stopped at the visitor center and the "do they have stickers?" thing started. This would continue throughout the trip. As souvenirs go at least they don't take up much space. We then carried on to Arco and stopped just long enough for a few (helmets still on) pictures of a spot I have seen in many a ride report, numbers rock and the Navy Memorial.




We then were subjected to one of the seemingly longest straightest pieces of pavement I have been on heading into Blackfoot ID. We trolled up and down the main drag and pulled into a gas station just as the owner and local tow truck service guy wheeled in. He apparently was closed but told us were to find gas and food and how to avoid the interstate to Pocatello. The food was edible at the Mexican restaurant right next door, although Paul (BMW) the next day said "no more Mexican food" and I didn't ask. His wife is an excellent cook so he may be a bit spoiled. In hindsight we should have jumped on the interstate, as winding through Pocatello was a waste of time. Eventually we ended back on I-15 (briefly) anyway down to hwy 30 heading east to Lava Hot Springs and Montpelier. I had initially planned to go east (on gravel) from the north end of Blackfoot to Henry then south to Soda Springs. The guy with the tow truck said they had had two inches of rain the day before and advised that my route (he knew the road) would be a greasy mud hole. We saw a few 4X4's pass by that were brown and covered in mud coming from that direction and decided on the paved alternate route (O the shame of it all). As we sat in the Mexican joint I saw a couple of blue 990 Adventures blast past going north. They were sans luggage and looked like "R" models, and I figured they might be headed for my initial route (you go guys!).

Highway 30 towards Lava Hot Springs was very picturesque and we had had a long day again so I pulled over when I saw a decent looking campground just west of Lava Hot springs. We came to the consensus that we should push on just to the actual town and take our chances even though I had seen no campground listing for it. I am so glad we did, and when we pulled in at the north entrance to town (I missed the south one) I motioned a young couple over to me that were walking along in swimwear. They braved the grubby biker and came over. They were able to give me the location (and which was preferable) of a couple of campground just blocks from us, and right in town. We thanked them and trolled down the main drag of this quaint, cozy little town. Rafting stores, pubs, motels lined this tourist town but in a time machine kind of vibe. I loved it! Glancing down a lane-way I spotted the campground down by the river (Stream) and we were set. It was kind of expensive but well worth it.



We could set up and walk down to the hot springs, and we did. These are state run, and natural springs with 4 pools, all of decreasing temperature. We headed for the hottest (source pool). The pool was surrounded by natural stone walls and beautiful gardens and was our little sea of tranquility after another long day in the saddle. The bottom of the hot pool was covered in pea gravel and felt like a foot massage. The four of us were talking as we soaked, Paul (BMW) has a Polish accent and an American women with a southern drawl suddenly piped up," Excuse me, but are ya'll from Russia". I almost spit, but managed to just grin. Thankfully, the other three guys took this one, and explained (repeatedly) that we were Canadians. It took some time, but I think she was finally (sort of) understood. Paul's accent really messed her up. It did however spark a number of conversations with other people soaking in the hot pool, and we met a couple of very cool, older guys, one who was from Texas (I can't recall where the other was from). It was getting late so we showered up and (after getting stickers) strolled down the now dark main street back to camp.


The neon and garden lights and Old style streetlights making for a peaceful stroll back to camp. We were itching to have a campfire (the caveman instincts coming out) and the wood that one of the guys bought was good and dry and I had it fired up in no time. Paul (KLR) insisted that I set up my fancy new camp chair so I did, and while reclining in it, dried (burnt) my feet by the fire, whilst sipping a mellow 18 year old Highland Park malt. This is the life. Good Times, with good friends. There was a main rail line across the highway that seemed to have a freight train on it every 5 minutes, and these guys must have had a lot of level crossings to deal with, by the sound of the air horns. Earplugs, and fatigue took care of that little issue, for me at least.



The best is yet to come..

Thank you for that. It is my parents that I feel the most sadness for. They unfortunately, are living any parents worst nightmare, and I say this as a parent myself. It is just so wrong to have to attend a childs funeral. There is really nothing that can be said to make that any less painful for them. Only the passage of time will lessen that.

I woke up feeling a bit chilly, note to self; zip up the sleeping bag- fool!, it was cold in the valley at night. Cold but not damp, as the tent was dry, that's a change. My Head was a bit foggy from a slight over-indulgence the previous evening. This to shall pass. I started packing up as the other denizens of the campground slowly stirred. I finished packing up and once again we decided to make a few miles before stopping for breakfast (and doing the morning chain lube ritual). While the other guys finished getting mobile I rode up to the Hot Springs to get some pictures in the bright morning sun. At Soda Springs we once again hooked up with my original track and Paul went inside to get advice from a friendly local regarding sustenance. We were directed out of Soda Springs (apparently they don't eat there) to a truck stop called the Ranch Hand toward Montpelier.



It indeed had decent grub and we fueled the bikes as well. The mountain range to the east of Bear Lake was looming ever closer and providing a great backdrop to an otherwise unremarkable highway. At Montpelier we (my bad) missed the turn that would take us along the west side of Bear Lake. In my defense both roads were #30 just with a different shape around the number (circle vs. shield) My GPS was right on the money, as my track showed the turn and I didn't take it. This mistake was rectified within a block and we were again on track. The run along the west side of Bear Lake was beautiful and We found a spot beside the lake for a picture.

I had pulled in at a Marina but the old fella that was guarding wanted $8 bucks to go 100 yards to the end of the parking lot so I could snap a picture. I declined, but had to back up as turning around past the gate was going to cost me $8. I think that the guard was a former banker. I am now planning to build a parking lot beside Bear Lake as my new retirement strategy, I think I am going to be a wealthy old fart.

We continued south into Utah briefly before crossing into the southwest corner of Wyoming headed to Evanston. We had to stop and do a chain adjustment on Chris's bike and he was starting to get worried. In Evanston just as I was about to get through a light I spotted a decent looking bike shop so I did a "Crazy Ivan". Now for those of you who have never seen the movie Hunt For Red October; a "Crazy Ivan" is a sudden, unexpected direction change. The guys were far enough behind that it didn't cause an issue, other than they might have been questioning my nav. skills, or sanity. The guys at the Bike shop (Chris will have to pipe up with the name) were fairly helpful in assisting Chris with the location of new chain and sprockets. After a number of calls it was set up to have the parts delivered to the bike shop of the Godfather of Price Utah, Tony Basso. He seemed, as we discovered, to own everything in town. Now with a plan we decided to find lodging in or around Price.

First things first though, we had a nice little run up and over the Wasatch National Forest with a little bit of gravel logging road thrown in for good measure. The road (hwy 150) up and over the north end of Wasatch Forest was a delight and there was plenty of snow still around at the higher elevations. The intel from the bike shop in Evanston had told us it was passable.


We stopped briefly for a picture and kept on rolling until the left onto the gravel road. A fellow on a BMW street bike was parked in the shade of a tree by the turnoff and we inquired if the road was passable. He figured it should be no problem as they had had a very light season for snow. He was very enthusiastic when asked about the trail as he had been over it on his GSA and loved it. The trail was great and my GPS did not steer me wrong, and eventually it spit us out on hwy #35 East of Kamas Utah. From there we headed east to Duchesne. After a decent lunch and fuel up we headed southeast on 191 down Indian Canyon and this road was another nice ride up over another pass into Helper.


A short blast south on a much bigger stretch of 191 took us into Tony Basso's town, of Price, where I went to the Bike shop first just to see where it was at for the next morning. That done we tried to find a campground. Another "friendly local" explained that we had missed the state liquor stores closing time so we were stuck buying the flavored water that passed for beer at the gas station.

He was able to direct us to a nice little campground a few minutes south at Huntington where we could "be chill by the lake". It turned out to be a nice spot that we could spread out for about $10 per person and thanks to Paul(BMW) sweet talking the camp hosts we scored some nice dry firewood gratis. The place had surprisingly great washroom/ shower facilities, and other than being in the middle of nowhere (so no close by eating establishments) was great.



I managed to get some neat time shots with Paul (KLR)'s led writing talents.

Tomorrow after Chris's bike repair we would head across a wash road east of Castledale to Green River and arrive in Moab.

much more to come.....

Excellent report writing Lee! It really captures the trip.

Thanks to the boys for being cool with my chain/sprocket replacement... something that should have been completely unnecessary had I managed to prepare better/notice the state of my chain before leaving. This was however, indicative of the group dynamics as the entire trip just seemed to flow with no real friction despite camping, eating, riding and putting up with each of our idiosyncrasies for almost 14 days. A great group of guys it was

Shibby!, see your PM for DR info.

That's what Adventure riding is all about. We didn't once have to fix a flat on any of the bikes the whole trip, so I think we got off lucky. I agree about the group dynamics, and Pawel (Paul) said as much yesterday at work to. He really enjoyed riding with the two of you (and myself as well, I assume ). Even the difference in the type of Riding that he prefered was no big deal as I knew ahead of time that he could not stay the whole time in Moab due to a prior engagement in Salt Lake.

I am just sorry that I didn't pay more attention in English classes in high school, thinking that "when am I going to use this stuff". It might have helped my writing and especially my grammar and punctuation skills. Thank goodness for spell-check!



I am thinking the report is going to become much more "picture heavy" now that it shifts to MOAB. Videos will take some time but hopefully I can get at least one processed on the weekend.

Morning for me always seems to come a bit earlier than anyone I have ever traveled with and today was no exception. I wandered over to the shower house and had a leisurely, hot (free) shower and got suited up in the hot weather gear for a change. I suspected that today the heat would play a part. The bluffs were a little too far away to make any remarkable morning pictures so I shot a few of the campsite and made coffee with the Jet Boil.


The rest of the guys were now stirring as we had planned to go into Price and search out breakfast before Chris's 11:00 appointment to get the DR new chain and sprockets. This of course was dependent on the Brown Santa Truck from Salt Lake City being on time.

As mornings go we were all up early and packed up fairly quickly, so we set off in search of food, 15 miles north into Price. We passed under 191 and followed the GPS to the main drag in Price. After running all the way through the downtown without seeing anything promising I was a little concerned we might have to settle for a fast food outlet. Just as that was crossing my mind I spotted a promising looking Café and wheeled across the street to its lot. Paul commented that he was thinking, "not the McDonalds!" since it was right across the street. The food and scenery in the restaurant did not disappoint, plus they had Wifi.

The guys proceeded to do the dysfunctional-tech-family-meal-thing, (everyone stare at their electronics while absently mindedly poking at their food). Afterward we cruised back to meet the Godfather of Price, Tony. He must have been having a new gold tooth put in, or perhaps delivering a horse head, and was no were to be seen. His stoolies (I jest) at the bike shop were very helpful and very accommodating while we hung out waiting the Brown shorts guy to arrive. The sun was quickly baking the earth and everything else outside while the hours ticked by. We took over the staff table at the back of the store and tried not to make too much of a nuisance of ourselves. Eventually the news we had all been waiting for came, and the parts arrived. The shop guys were quick to get the job done and we eagerly suited back up for the run to Moab!



One more time, we headed south on hwy 10 past our previous night's camp spot to Castledale where I hooked up with my GPS track and onto Green River cutoff road headed east. This was a fairly wide well traveled gravel road at first but I was glad to have done the track up as there were numerous places to turn off along the way. It was hot and dusty with a nearly cloudless sky. The road narrowed and began to twist through washes and up and down over bluffs. Eventually it came to a fork that said we would be continuing on Chimney Rock road, and this is what my GPS had routed, so off we went. We of course took a few pictures along the way.





A really nice, narrow, twisting canyon was the highlight before hooking up with 191 again, not far north of I-70 and Green River. We were a bit behind schedule so I opted to ignore my track routing and blast east on I-70 for about 20 minutes until a small wash road that I had found on one of the maps that cut off the corner between I-70 and where 191 went south to Moab. It was blazing hot by this point and zipping along the Interstate was a relief for the bikes cooling systems. When I got to the spot where my track led onto the wash road things got interesting.
I pulled off I-70, following the track I had laid down only to find it veered left, into what looked like an old parking lot beside the main road. The road going south looked good, but the sign said the name didn't jive with what I had intended. While the guys waited I did recon, figuring "what the hell, I'll just follow my track exactly". Low and behold I found the faint dual tracks at the northeast corner of the lot, so I continued and they became more defined. I waved the guys over and they eventually figured out what I wanted. The"road" was nothing more than 2 tire tracks leading off into endless desert, but we discovered even this can be fun.

About 5 times along the way we dropped into "washes" that were very deep cuts with steep approaches and exits and very loose at the bottom. You could not hit the bottom fast or you would bottom out and maybe flip over, but you also had to gas it to climb out. All this, with fully loaded bikes and this being a new skill, learned on the fly for all of us.

It is funny how having no choice increases the ability to quickly learn a new skill and all the guys made it through without a spill. At the east end, just before re-joining pavement on 191 we came upon a watering station surrounded by a lot of Cattle. The road widened out at this point, crossed a cattle gate and hit the highway. We were getting very close to our check in time in Moab and so I again opted to just burn pavement, south on 191 after consulting the guys.



A short stop for construction north of Moab and we rolled down into the valley just north of the river and the junction of 191 and 128 and Moab Valley RV and Campground. Our objective finally realized, we rolled into the parking lot with a sense of accomplishment, and for me at least a renewed energy. After checking in with the lovely ladies at the front desk we set up camp after getting out of the overly hot riding gear. We were starting to get into tourist mode, knowing we would not have to break camp the next morning.




Later that evening we headed into town to the "Blu Pig" to enjoy a Bar-BQ and blues joint that came recommended. It would not disappoint!

So far, so good!

Care to explain why Chris' DR has a "two-tone" front fender (yellow in front, white in back)? It appears to be a hybrid of some sort as the front (yellow) portion doesn't look like o.e. Suzuki. Thanks.

He can field that one but, I know he told me.... Supermotard fender.. because the stock was a bit floppy at highway speeds.... if I recall correctly.