Saturday was clear and warm and I woke up early. Perfect day for a ride. Even though I enjoy getting out every month of the year here in Salt Lake, most of the winter rides are fairly short 50 miles or less. We have had nice weather earlier, but I was busy doing stuff like traveling or cutting my refrigerator in half (that was amazingly liberating).

Out the door about 7 am, I headed south. The only plan was to stay low as there is still snow in the mountains and in fact there was a cool breeze coming from the mountains as I headed out.

The other part of the plan was to investigate a marking on the map that said "Black Canyon." This was on a road I had not ridden and it conjured images of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison waiting to be discovered in southern Utah. Down I-15 to my first gas stop in Nephi, my mileage seemed terrible. After city cruising in the winter, my mind ran through a VROC-fueled list of possibilities. Every item I'd ever seen mentioned was worthy of consideration. Stuck float, clutch slipping, even the new spark plug boot I had put on because the old one was cracked.

Leaving the freeway, click-fourth, click-third, click-second, click-nothing. I had cruised urban Utah at the usual rate of speed for the area, 80-85 in fourth gear. Got 32 mpg for my trouble. That is when I decided this was a shakedown cruise.

Fueld up and mileage returned to normal 38-40, depending on throttle position. Down 1-15 to Scipio, southeast on 50 to Salina, south on 24 to 62 and into Koosharem. At the intersection with Utah 22, I took a left. Old ranches in the desert, signs warning me that state maintenance was at an end. The road took a turn for the worse, but after a few turns was better. Seems they just want to discourage the casual tourist, which I am not....

The town was Antimony and I have long wondered where the name came from since antimony is a mineral (stibnite) sometimes found with gold. I didn't see any evidence of mining in the area, then came upon this mill:

A google search this morning tells me there was a mine in the area, but this is an old flour mill. Back to today's quest, the search for "Black Canyon." Continuing down the road, I found I was folloing the river through basalt cliffs 60-80 feet high. Certainly no match for Colorado's canyon, but a pleasant ride with very little traffic.


Riding on, I came out on a flat plain that went for some ways, with interesting dirt roads leading into the sandstone country. Better bring the ThanksJack DR650 next time. One sign said "Pine Lake, 7 miles." Since I am always looking for caming spots, I decided I could wash the Classic tomorrow. Also, a little bit of dirt road would shake loose anything that was nearly shaken on my shakedown cruise. With logic like that, it didn't take much to ride up the road. The lake was disappointing and I returned to the highway dusty but intact. A few miles on, a sign said "Bryce Canyon, 19 miles." Even having looked at a map before I left, I didn't realize I was so close. Gas was low, so off I went.

Sure enough, the road is the one that comes in from the north right across from the entrance to Bryce. Even better, Highway 12 is right there. I gassed up at the Chevron where Tom Miller dumped his "bad" gas, paying $3.19/gal for the privlege. That didn't matter, I was on Highway 12! Took my time a bit, noticing some things I hadn't on previous higher-speed trips with various vrocers. Like this rock formation that to me looked like a rock angel:



Angel is in the center, under the darker rock. Guess you had to be riding by at 70 or so to see it . Continuing down highway 12, I thought about scouting Escalante for V-dirt the middle of June, but it was crowded and I didn't feel like stopping.

Powell Point, at 10,188 feet was looking good today:



I did stop at Head of the Rocks (that incredible overlook on hwy 12), where a group on various bikes from Richfield, Utah was taking a break. "Oh, nice day ride," I said. When they heard I was from Salt Lake they responded that it was a nice two-day ride. Nope, just got carried away. They headed out and I gave them time to get ahead, then took off myself.

Didn't realize they were riding at parade speed. After years of chasing Barb, Jack, Jazzman and various vrocers through the canyons of highway 12, I didn't realize how much was there. I immediately realized how much of it looked the same, though and began to look for reasons to pull over....

The Kiva Cafe was open for the first time in memory, but the parking lot was full and I didn't feel like stopping that much. Calf Creek trailhead was full. this is still considered spring in the desert, when it feels warm when you stop but is cool while riding, whether it is a motorcycle, atv or bicycle.

I can't discuss Highway 12 without talking about the Hogback and including a picture:

The various drop-offs on highway 12 are important to pay attention to, because Utah could be called the "no-steenking guardrails" state.
I can't say for sure, but I don't remember a single guardrail on the entire highway. Another reason to ride Highway 12 again....

Here is a picture of natural petroglyphs, the "desert varnish" you see high on the sandstone:




A couple of overlooks later, I passed the group in Boulder, last town in the U.S. to receive weekly mail by pack mule. On the v-dirt ride, we will be retracing those pack mule steps....

Here is the town of Boulder:





Then up boulder Mountain, patchy snow still all around. Several times I thought I recognized the place where I was just following Jazz's taillights through the heavy rain while lightening struck around us. More overlooks, I could see the Henry mountains still had snow on them above Waterpocket Fold. The Henrys were the last mountain range in the U.S. to be mapped.


Remember you can click on these to see more detail. Riding down the mountain, I rounded a corner to see a cow elk just off the road in a boggy area. She waited while I pulled over, shut down the loud pipes and stealthily removed my camera from my bag. Only when I was ready to take a picture did she walk away, and she doesn't look as big as she was.

Just glad she wasn't in the road. Down the mountain into Torrey. Like too many other places in the West, Torrey is becoming gentrified and losing its small-town charm. How gentrified is Torrey? The police car with the mannequin that has graced the main street through town for years has been moved 8 miles down the road to Bicknell where, set up on a curve, it continues to slow tourists down.

Back into Salina, lunch at Mom's Cafe. Never that good, but comfortable and you have to stop at a place called Mom's. Add the local sea salt (mined right down the road). Head on home under big fluffy clouds filling the sky. took hwy 89 north to Gunnison before turning toward Nephi.

Bike ran like a champ. Lots of spring bugs out, the only time you see them in Utah. Between the bugs and traveling at speed in the dry air, my eyeballs couldn't keep up under my sunglasses. Red and dry when I made it home, they were crusty but fine this morning. At one point passing a reservoir under a cloud shadow, I thought it was raining. Hmmm. Feels like rain, tastes like bugs. Guess it's bugs.....

Into the driveway about 8 pm, four miles shy of 600 for the day.

Nice little run.