I am currently in Hot Springs, South Dakota. There have been so many places, landscapes, roads, and most importantly people and conversations along the way that I have no hope of capturing.

But there are snippets. 

I spent a week with Bruce riding a loosely planned loop ride through parts of New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah. I wanted to show him the Million Dollar Highway and the North Rim road at Black Canyon of the Gunnison, which Robert had introduced me to last October. For last October's ride, Samantha, who used to run a motorcycle tour business, shared a compelling assortment of routes which I have noted carefully on the maps here. One such road is called the Moki Dugway, which I knew nothing about other than it's some kind of unpaved descent. I wasn't able to make it out that way in October. It turns out Bruce's friend Sven had attempted to get Bruce to ride it many times but it has never worked out. So before coming out here, he and I had talked about riding it on this trip but alas, it didn't look like we would make it down that way on this trip either. 

By unplanned coincidence, after we made our way to the top of the North Rim Road we found ourselves in Grand Junction. "Hmm. This is within striking distance of Moab." I thought as I pondered suggesting altering plans and heading that way.

But I felt quite conflicted. Bruce had never been to Moab on a bike and there were so many incredible things to show him there but I would be coming back there to visit Samantha and her husband Ron in just a handful of days. I felt a "no I can't suggest that" welling up. They have so much going on and I would hate to add to their burdens by being there without adequate warning. It would be rude especially since they've carved out some time the following week. 

The reasons to say "no" almost always limit. As I have been reminded of this morning, a "no" like this almost always comes from some feeling that has built up internally larger than is constructive. 

It's often fascinating to pause and dispassionately watch these feelings. It takes time to learn and is an uncomfortable often painful process. I call this "cultivating the watcher". Interestingly, some feeling and the toxic limiting belief associated with it often dissipate by the simple act of watching it.

I paused and realized it's silly. If they don't have the cycles to meet up, they'll just let me know. It'll feel weird to be so close after having planned a visit so many months in advance but I would be back. 

So I suggested to Bruce that instead of looping East that we loop West and stay in Moab and ride the incredible roads in the wider area there for the day. It would also mean we would be set up for an easy ride down to the Moki Dugway the next day. He agreed. 

I reached out to Samantha to see if maybe they would be up for meeting the two of us but as it turned out the timing didn't work. They had, as I expected, far too much going on. 

So Bruce and I rolled through the barren waste into the incredible landscape that is Moab. The heat took its toll but it was not as bad as we had feared. From Interstate 70, I took him down 128 which is simply a must see road. Even though I had just been there a handful of months ago, the landscape hits hard. 

 

We went down Potash Road to see the petroglyphs. There's this vertical wall that was spared from destruction when the road was built. It is covered in petroglyphs from multiple peoples spanning thousands of years. It's another must see stop in the area. 

Then we headed out towards Deadhorse Point State Park which is not to be believed. The road to it is deceptive as it looks like just a large plain. 

What you don't realize is that it's this narrowing sliver of land that towers 2000 feet over the river below.

We pondered heading out to Canyonlands Grand View Point Overlook but the heat was starting to take its toll and fatigue was setting in. We made our way back to Moab to call it a day. 

Travelling with Bruce is effortless. I first met Bruce in my first year of college in the motorcycle parking lot. We became instant friends. I met Duncan independently a few days later. They had been friends for while. Over the years the three of us, The Band, would go on many motorcycle adventures together logging many many thousands of miles. 

For both of us riding on trips like this, the memory of Duncan is ever present and it feels so wrong that he is not with us.  

I've been pondering influences quite a bit. There are those who we meet and the course of our life is forever altered. I have often said, and it is true, that had I not met Bruce and Duncan I would not have made it this far. Both introduced me to concepts of friendship and acceptance that I had never before been introduced to. Even a entire book could not capture a fraction what I have learned from the two of them. 

I think about the practical effects Bruce has had on me over the years. Bruce is eminently almost overwhelmingly practical. If it is practical then it is Good(tm). If it is even more practical then it is Better(tm). Bruce lives in a professional world that is far removed from what I have been doing. He understands business structure, communication, heirarchies, processes, and most importantly the ways these can all fail. He moved into safety and has become quite the well regarded professional. Over the years he would talk to me about what he has learned and I've often been surprised how much I have internalized. One such lesson was how any accident never has only a single cause. There's always a series of either bad decisions or smaller mistakes that lead up to the big failure. He often talked about how culture is involved in how these cascades unfold. It all made an impression. 

I sometimes wonder if maybe I am able to do some of the challenging and risky things I do successfully because of his influence and what I've learned. I certainly think differently. 

We pondered the Moki Dugway which in some way evoked the sense of the Haul road up in Alaska. It's gravel with down hill switch backs which can be challenging and one has to be cautious. There are lots of warnings about how dangerous it is. 

I have more off pavement experience than Bruce does. So we discussed it and fallback plans should it turn out to be worse than hoped. 

"Then again, Sven takes his chopper up it so it can't be that bad." Bruce joked. This reminds me of stories of grandmas in RV's going up the haul road which some motorcyclists along the way described as the worst road in the world. 

It all depends on how you take it. 

Based on what I had heard I thought the Moki Dugway would be a minor point along the way. I read up on it a little bit which is out of character for me. It's a gravel road that descends 1200 feet down a cliff wall. I was imagining something like some of the jeep trails I had descended during the Trans America Trail ride. 

We headed out not sure what we would encounter. "If it's too hard or risky we'll just turn around." 

That's something I really appreciate about Bruce. There is no ego in anything. We ride to ride together. It doesn't matter. It is such a gift to have someone to ride with like Bruce. 

Interestingly, he said he doesn't ride as much as he would like because "it's really hard to find people to ride with." I agreed but then he said, in typical practical Bruce fashion, "It's so rare to have someone who will actually show up when they say they will and then be ready to actually ride." 

That caused me to reflect for a bit because it's not something I've considered as a positive. Showing up when you say you will ready to ride with your bike in order and all the gear you'll need is just a given for me so much that I hadn't pondered it being done differently. 

So off we went in the heat towards the Moki Dugway. 

The first sign we had that our "Well, we can just turn around" backup plan might not work as expected was this sign.

121 miles without services and those services are presumably on the other side of the Moki Dugway. 

Albeit hot, it was a pleasant ride through a gently flowing landscape. 

Then we got our first hint that maybe this was going to be a more significant place than we had expected.

In the upper right corner of this photo you can just make out a large dust devil.

The road was wide and most of the switchbacks were actually paved. To say it was a non-issue, at least for us, is an understatement. I could see how someone might get in their head especially if they, like me, are terrified of heights.

But we were not prepared for how it felt to be there. Deadhorse Point State Park is crazy impressive but this is different somehow and I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because I had seen the other places before and this was new. But I also wondered if maybe it was because this was a place used to get somewhere else. It's just a road. Like Deal's Gap, it's just a road, but those of us who like roads are drawn to ones like this. The views are spectacular. Maybe it's because there is flat below and it goes on for so far that it makes it more impactful. I'm not sure but there's something to the place. 

We made it an extended stop. I found a little trail that led up into a cut so, of course, I had to go take a look ... on foot. 

This is actually what I thought the road might look like based on how some people described it. 

I have ridden my Beloved Blue Oil Burner on trails like this but I would not recommend it.

Through the cut was an even more impressive view and merciful shade with a place to sit.

Bruce, as Bruce does, started talking to guy who had stopped at the same corner. He was from Switzerland I think. He graciously offered to take a photo of Bruce and I.

After some time we got back on our bikes and made our way further down the Dugway. No issues. No drama. The most dangerous thing, as has been the case in so many places Out There(tm), is the risk of losing focus due to being mesmerized by yet another incredibly stunning view. 

We made it to the bottom. Looking back it's hard to see how there could a road that goes up it.

It was significantly warmer here than it was up there. A friend of Bruce's had recommended to check out a canyon a few miles away. Even from the top I could not see this canyon but soon we came across the sign for the turn to Gooseneck Canyon State park so in we went. 

There's a fee to enter.

There's a parking lot with some mercifully covered picnic tables. I was a bit spent from the heat but did eventually go to look over the edge. Once again, I was not prepared.

This is not visible at least as far as I could tell from the Dugway. With such differing landscapes one runs out of words. Photos and even video only reveal the slightest hint of what it is like to be physically in the presence of all this. 

We decided to make our way to Cortez and from there see about riding another day. On the way to Cortez we ran into some right proper heat. At one point the thermometer on my fairing, which always reads a bit high due to engine heat effect, read 118 degree Fahrenheit, which is the highest I have ever seen it read at 60 miles per hour. The Oil Burner's engine was struggling to keep the temperature under control and in doing so would bathe me in radiator fan heat. 

By the time we got to the hotel we were spent, but it had been an exceptional day. The Dugway was our favorite stop on this trip and I still cannot explain the emotional impact but there's something to it. We will have to go back. 

Upon looking at maps and weather, we decided to cut the ride a day short and head back to Los Alamos. I spent the next couple of days just working on code and helping Bruce with some projects around the house because, well, having a friend over who's handy is quite very practical indeed. 

The evenings were spent in the hot tub looking at the clear New Mexico sky being shocked at the sheer number of satellites that now litter it. 

The time is over before it felt like it had even begun. Time is odd on these long distance motorcycles trips, it's simultaneously very slow with a day filled with what feels like months of life and also weeks that feel like seconds. 

It came time for me to say goodbye until I loop back through on the return trip in some weeks time. So I packed up and got back on my Beloved Blue Oil Burner and made my way out to Durango then to Moab where I hoped to meet up with Samantha again who has become one of the newest old friends I've ever met. It is such a surprise to be able to make new significant friends this late in life. 

What a poorer life I would have led if not for motorcycles and wonderful souls I have met because of them. 

I have no idea if anyone actually sees anything here. If you happen to make it this far, it would mean a lot if you would please let me know. There's a deafening silence since the social sites make it so difficult to share links. 

If you know someone who might like stories of adventure motorcycle travel like these, please point them here.