|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The first morning rays of sunlight reminded me I should turn the alarm off, even though it hadn't gone off yet, I still had another hour of sleep left. No different than any of the last two nights actually. This is my first attempt at organizing a COG ride, and the butterflies started about the same time I heard the forest service was closing most of Arizona due to extreme fire danger. Coffee started, get the paper, and let the cats out. Well, we're starting off on the right foot, so far so good. Check for incoming e-mail to see if there are any last minute "are rooms still available, I might drive up?" Nope, looks good. The saddle bags were already packed, so all that needed to be done was to slip them on the bike, bungie the tent and sleeping pad, then finish packing the tank bag, which involved tossing in the still wet toothbrush.
Miss Twiggy and Floozy were aware of my impending journey, and new of the 'game' they could play by not coming in when I opened the door. "Here kitty kitty kitty." You can see it in their eyes, "No way dude!" Anybody who thinks cats have no intelligence is sorely mistaken. But, having the superior intellect, all I had to do was open the closet door that holds the stash of fresh, moist, and flavorful Kat Fud. They might think they have the upper hand, but Friskies Ocean Fish works every time! O.K., they're in, I'm out, It's running, I'm off!
Gas is of minor concern, our first scheduled stop will be 90 miles away in Payson, where we might meet Charles Rubin from Sedona, and definitely meet Dave Clark from Flagstaff, both participants in last years Ride the Divide. Arriving at the designated start point, Kelly's Kawasaki in Mesa, I find the lot empty. No sweat, chill out, take some water, it's only 7:30. The temperature was already nearing 85 degrees, and I knew from previous experience the riders in this area 'mothball' their bikes in the summer.
Grab one last smoke, and at 8:10 I'm heading north, solo. The weekend traffic was starting to build, but was lighter than I had expected, I guess most had left on Friday. A little road construction fifteen miles out of town, but I made good time to Payson none the less. I got to the 260 Cafe five minutes before Dave, and we spent a few minutes bench racing before we went in for breakfast.
A quick stop at the cash machine, and we're both heading east on AZ 260 towards Alpine. This section of road is interesting on weekdays, but can be busy on the weekend, so we picked a place in line, and waited for the cars to thin as we got further from Payson and Phoenix. The vegetation changes from cacti to ponderosa pine and scrub juniper at Payson, so this is a popular weekend escape for those from the valley.
Stopped for fuel in Heber, and continued on towards Show Low. Traffic loosened up after Heber, but we were delayed by Officer Opie, and had to pay road tax just west of Show Low. It was a quick stop, as this was the weekend and a time for revenue enhancement, rather than deterrence.
Stow the papers and make a mental note to have a sign erected "This section of road paved with help from _____" Continuing east, we pass through Show Low, Pinetop/Lakeside, and a small section of the White Mountain Apache Reservation where one of Arizona's ski hills is located. By now, the temps are in the 60's, Alpine here we come.
We pulled into the Sportsman's Lodge in Alpine at 2:15, and talked with Frank, the owner and fellow biker, for about 15 minutes, when a toot-toot and turn of the head revealed a white ZG heading our way. None other than Mark Folsom from Colorado. Five minutes later, a silver ST pulled in, Karl Zuercher from Albuquerque. This would be an interesting ride, as all of us rode the Ride the Divide of last year, and I felt good knowing that everybody knew the limitations of their bikes. Frank also rides, has a K 75, and we talked for an hour before we checked into our rooms. Dinner was at the Bear Wallow cafe, a short walk from the motel.
Something about this elevation got us up earlier than I had expected, and looking out the window, we discovered the bikes had an inch of snow sitting on them. Mark reminds us he drove through all of Colorado in this stuff to get here, and had enough cold and snow for a while... Welcome to Arizona Mark! We park the bikes in the sun, and walk over to the other Alpine eatery, the Spruce Cafe for coffee, cholesterol, carbohydrates, and a pinch of salt.
Rather than head down 666, which is at elevation most of the way, we opt to do US 180 through NM then across to Clifton, and up 666 from the south. This way the snow will have burned off the road by the time we get there. Heading east out of Alpine, with the temps in the low 50's now, we pass through spruce pine forest on the way to high desert. There is another section of road outside Luna that deserves a sign "Paved with help from _____" By this time, Mark is starting to see that Arizona has more to offer than saguaro and prickly pear cacti... I mean the road has been twisty enough to keep even him entertained!
South on US 180 through wide sweepers, and the all too common high desert, grasses, and an occasional cottonwood or mesquite. The turn off to Mule Creek arrives, and we stop for a picture opportunity in front of a sign that reads something to the effect of "Travel on this road not recommended for vehicles longer than 40 ft." The approach road was straight as an arrow for 6 miles, but quickly turned into 20MPH twisties. Midway through we met a couple on a cruiser type bike waving their hands as if something was amiss in front of us. Mark stopped, and they wanted to know if we had seen their buddies on Duc's. "Not yet" was his reply. Onward over the top through ponderosa pines towards Clifton and The Devils Highway.
On the down hill side of the pass, we pass several Ducati's parked on the side of the road at the start/finish of a (several) curves, with two AZ patrol cars parked close, and an ambulance heading towards Clifton in front of us. Our minds are thinking the worst, but after reaching Clifton, we discover the ambulance was empty. We gas up in town, and grab something to drink at the local c-store. The temps are now in the high 80's, but we don't have to wait long for them to get back to a respectable range for bikers in full leathers and Stitch's . . . head north a few miles!
The road through Morenci passes through the concentrator buildings, and along side the machines of Phelps Dodge copper mine. Up the hill, past the machines, is a turn out where you can look down into to the working open pit mine. I never get excited about looking at a big hole in the ground (and I do mean BIG), but we stopped to see none the less.
A brief introduction to what's ahead, and we're on our way. The first few miles of road are 10 mph switch backs, through salt bushes and scrub junipers, which then opens up to 20 and 30 mph curves. After 30 miles of this, the road straightens out for 3 miles, where I stop to grab a picture, a smoke, and wait for the rest to catch up. The remainder of the road to Hannagan Meadow continues the 20-30 mph curves, but the landscape is now ponderosa pine.
Karl heads out first, with Dave and Mark following. I gear up, and wick it to catch them. Midway up, we stop at a turnout so I can rehydrate one of the many desiccated trees, and I suggest getting a picture of Mark scraping the pegs going around this corner. He was more than happy to oblige. As the others ride off, I head down the embankment to pause and think about the meaning of life. A couple of minutes later, and I'm on the road too. This section of road is a personal favorite, excellent pavement, no gravel in the corners, and almost no tree litter in the curves.
I finally catch up with them near the top, and we ride in formation towards the Hannagan Meadow Lodge, where we stop for lunch. The lodge was sold last year, and on my trip here earlier this year, it was under reconstruction. There is no fast food here, everything from the soup to the ruben sandwich is homemade, prices are reasonable too. Frank arrives on his BMW with a passenger as we finish our meal, and we talk for a few minutes before heading towards the bikes.
Karl said he was going back to Albuquerque tonight, and gave me a chance to ride his ST to Alpine. Well, I'm not one to refuse a ride on what some people claim to be the ultimate sport touring machine, so I take him up on the offer. True to what is said about the ST, it is a very smooth bike, 'sterile' as I like to put it. As to the buzziness of the Concours, I noticed no difference between the two in over 20 miles of sweepers and straights. The ST rev's lower though, and I got more wind in the face, fingers, and toes than I do on Sam. Handling is similar, all in all a nice 'ride', but I wouldn't consider it superior to the ZG by any means.
We bid Karl adios, then Dave, Mark, and I talked about performance mods to our bikes for an hour or so. Mark digs out his micro air pump and plays with Dave's rear suspension pressure. Dave thought his bike washed out in some of the corners, and Mark suggested increasing the pressure a bit. Mark is now wondering if his rear tire will make it to Durango, where he hopes he can find a replacement, and I suggest riding to Mesa with me, as I have a complete set of Macadam's in storage. Apparently we shredded a little more rubber today than he had planned on! A shower, more bench racing, and we saddle up for the ride to the Talwiwi Lodge near Nutrioso for dinner.
This is where all the BMW biker scum hangs out, as evidenced by all the high mileage new bikes in the parking lot... these guys like to ride! We talked with them about road tax, and how most speeding limits were designed for Volkswagen's and Metro's, solved several world problems, and headed in for dinner. Mark asks for a beer, and is told for the umpteenth time "Bud, Bud light, Coors, Coors light, MGD, Corona". I reply we might have the roads, but this ain't no brew pub, welcome to cowboy country.
Arising at the same time as yesterday, we find no snow, YES.... but frost on the bikes... welcome to Arizona. Dave said he was going to head north on 666 to the interstate, then west to Flagstaff. Mark and I said we'd ride with him to Springerville, where we'd then head west and south through the Salt river canyon to Mesa and a new set of tires. We took AZ 73, a narrow two lane that follows the contour of the land, through the reservation, and connected with US 60 at Carrizo. We met up with a line of Prairie Scooners, and a couple of ocean capable ships with Geo's impaled upon their bowsprits, at the start of the downhill ride into the canyon, so we pulled off the road to distance us from the pack. Even at 100 feet from the road, you could still smell burning brakes and clutches. It was a scenic overlook to the Salt river canyon, and Mark remarked how he had though Arizona was nothing more than cacti, The Big Ditch (Grand Canyon) and an occasional curve... uh-huh.
A break in the downhill traffic, and we hoist anchor. All the way down to the Salt river, and half way up the other side before we meet up with a Metro and a Volkswagen. A leisurely pace into Globe where we continue on US 60 towards Mesa. I guess we left early enough in the day, as the returning weekend traffic was lighter than I had expected. The road between Globe and Superior passes through mining country, and has several stretches of high speed sweepers. Superior is at 2800 elevation, and by now, the temps are in the mid to high 90's. As long as we're moving, it's not bad, but once you stop...
We arrived in Mesa mid afternoon, unpacked, and washed the bugs and dust off the bikes. Burgers and a brew up the road at the New Yorker, after checking out the grade school Mark attended when he lived here in the 60's. We discussed getting the tires mounted the next day, and I toyed with the idea of driving back with him to Colorado to, umm, look for construction work... well that's my story, and I'm sticking with it.
All in all, it was an excellent ride. Two sections of road construction (Mesa to Payson, and just outside of McNary), some first class twisties, and top notch riders. Dave, Karl, and Mark were all a pleasure to ride with. I'll look forward to doing this ride again next year.
The Sportsman's Lodge in Alpine should be on the 'Biker Friendly Accommodations" list (Frank and Phylis went out of their way to make sure we were comfortable) and the Hannagan and Talwiwi Lodges are recommended as excellent, reasonably priced, dining establishments, way out in the 'middle of nowhere', even though all the have is "Bud, Bud Light. . . ." .
Rick Hall 1994 ZG 1000 "Sam" It's not a sport COG #1914 SW AAD DOD #2040 1kQSPT 14.16 if it can't kill you. The COG page at: <http://www.concours.org/> --WLreports page
Comments, problems to: Me, rickh@concours.org
Last updated 12 Jun. 96