Capitol Reef National Park, Utah

Been a long time, driving up in the high desert, hardly any towns to send emails from.

Was a real relief to escape from West Yellowstone, camped in the National Park, Indian River, nice and quiet, about five miles from Mammoth, drove up and had a decent dinner for once, actually it was pretty fast foody but better than my interminable half sandwich, fish and chips it was pretty good.

Dennis, remember Dennis, he had this Vietnam girlfriend, clearly Sarah hated her, thought she was a gold digger, well, I guess she was, he used to go motorbike camping with her, the Vietnam girlfriend, that is, he towed a trailer behind the bike., very common, and had an electric generator on board for the electric blanket, the rice boiler and the sound system. When he had his stroke she left him, selling with her the house that he had apparently bought for her and vanishing with the money. He still has the generator and the electric blanket and tells every one about it. Sarah sat and looked ready to spit. Yellowstone was interesting, since the last earthquake many of the areas have stopped steaming and are now blindingly white salt formations.

Early the next morning, about seven, I drove off to old Faithful, round one of the many bends a herd of Elk was cluttering up the road, I stopped for them (not enough "situational awareness", sorry Mark, my fault). The road was very steeply cambered, before I got my right foot down the bike was into rotation, she went over like a rock, narrowly missed trapping my right foot under the crash bar, badly bruised my foot, fortunately the boots, thanks again Philip, saved me. It hurt for a couple of hours but apart form a skin scrape is fine. not good.

A couple miles further down the road I came across a bison broadside, astride the double yellow. I slowed, assessed the situation, the creature was huge, they are the size of a medium sized car, decided not to try creeping past, by now I was maybe twenty feet away, slowing, the beast turned ponderously towards me, Enough of this, I stopped dead, no time for details, laid the bike down deliberately on the left side and retreated, keeping poor Leslie between me and the Bison, sad to say I didn't have the camera with me, the bison slowly walked past the bike, appeared totally indifferent to anything but keeping a clear sight of me, I crossed the road the cautiously walked back past it, it turned its enormous head as I passed but made no attempt to divert its relentless walk up the road, it was totally farcical, you see this kind of thing in the comics, but actually near to terrifying, just me on foot and this wild creature, they can easily hit thirty miles an hour in a charge, I was very relieved when it went on its way, I hauled Les back up, the left side is a lot easier a lift, we headed off, I was thinking, dropped her twice, not good.

A couple miles further on I stopped just to get my breath back, put her on the kick stand, in neutral, let up the clutch, she was still in gear, bang, over she went again. The neutral light came on even though she was in gear. Three times in one morning, and I had been doing so well.

Never mind, on we went, had a coffee to settle things down, watched Old Faithful throw thousands of gallons of steam and boiling water in the air, then headed on out and south. Meanwhile I've been having a bit of trouble with Leslie, just after Lava Beds, one morning, I noticed the rear tire appeared a bit low, I decided to head on to the next town and check it where there was a compressed air line, well, on the first serious curve the entire bike went into this slow side to side wobble, most alarming, I straightened up and slowed up and it went away, I stopped in the next widening of the road, by a tree that was covered in shoes, apparently the locals to celebrate or whatever, drive over to this tree, tie the laces of a pair of shoes, sneakers, boots, together and then throw it high into the tree, there must have been hundreds, the tree was totally covered in them. I checked the tire pressure, it was down to 25 psi, should be 33, clearly a problem. Fortunately the bike has a built in inflator, it is very slow and often I end up with less than when i started, but no time ot complain, after about twenty minutes of futching I had it up to about 35 psi, drove on to the next town and filled it to 39 psi, which was the setting when I first got the bike.

On again but aware, after lunch checked, down to mid thirties, add air. This went on for several days, no place to get it fixed, I met a lovely biker from a town just north of salt lake city, Pociletto or something, he said there was a Honda shop in his town but it would take them at least a week to get around to taking the rear wheel off and fixing it as they were totally overloaded, I just kept on and hoped I wasn't being too reckless. Adding air morning, noon and night.

Outside the cafeteria by old Faithful I met a group of cyclists, they had cycled all the way from Maryland, forty five days, and planned to make the West coast on Aug 15th. Wow, the slim slip of a girl I was chatting to told me they make about 800 miles a day. I was in awe, my longest day in recent history has been 620 and it left both of us totally destroyed, imagine getting up the next day and doing it all over a gain.

South and along Rte 89, lovely riding country, in the mountain sand in the high desert, endless views of endless plains and mountains in the distance, mostly no water and deserted, whenever there is any water massive circular irrigation and green fields everywhere, all seems to be winter fodder, enormously loaded trucks pas in the other direction loaded with huge bales of dried grass. Getting late, getting tired, maybe this should be my logo, I drive past Bear Lake and an a winding route through a national forest with many campsites shown on the map, well, the first site is packed, then nothing until just a few miles before the end of the park, it is now about seven and I've been going, on and off, since seven, another site, as I enter i meet a couple on a lovely Yamaha Venture coming out, I ask if I can share their site, they look surprise but agree, I park the bike and collapse for half an hour.

The site is alongside the river and quite lovely, we are getting lower and it is pretty hot, the day running around ninety five, now down to mid eighties, I drink a can of beer, eat my sandwich, marvel at the rig the people I met have, he is Mike and she is Becky, she is very quiet, he is a technician at a rocketry plant where he is decommissioning the rockets, apparently this will take a long time, recovering the fuels, etc. They have a monster fifth wheel, towed behind a huge pickup, I discover the fifth wheel has a ramp at the back and they can roll up the carpet in the living room, move the furniture, lower the ramp, ride the bike up into the trailer, tie it down, raise the ramp, off to Yellowstone. Unbelievable, they get 12 miles per gallon if he drives carefully. All that junk.

I'm off early, finally get away unless than thirty minutes, including air in the tire, drive on to Bingham City, add more air at the gas station, have an egg and cheese sandwich, then hammer down the interstate through Salt Lake City, doing seventy five, terrified about my rear wheel, but in close traffic, then about sixty miles down the high Occupancy lane, not much traffic but impatient with my slow speed, I exit south of the City and drive through the town of Nephi, drive past a Honda Bike shop, wait a minute, make a one eighty, back drive in, the mechanic, a young mechanic nicknamed Beaker because of his prominent nose, comes out to greet me, we haul Leslie onto the centre stand, he checks the wheel, finds a small puncture Right tin the tread center, but never mind that, he says the tire is right at end of life, the normal round contour now has a flat strip at the centre which is about an inch and a half wide, tread worn down to a mere memory, he suggests that I should get a new tire as soon as possible, is surprised when I propose, let's do it now, I'm tired of the apprehension and worry, he checks, they do have a suitable replacement, every one is so helpful, they drag all the other jobs out of the shop, raise Les on the lift, after two hours she is back on the road, proud with a new tire. The book said, $45 for the job and that is what they charged me, over my protestation, two mechanics worked on the bike for two hours. Well, thanks, wonderful folk.

On towards Bryce, a little late, in the town of Garrison I stop for lunch, a very nice diner, run by a lovely, half Vietnamese girl., dancer and artiste, worked for twenty years in Los Angeles and New York, had enough, now running the restaurant and working on dance and choreography for a number of groups, specialises in music videos, Reggie, opening up in the UK soon, I could have sat and talked for hours, but time to go, head on, once again, getting tired, getting late, still baking hot, most of the day has been 40 C, 104F. hot.

Drive to Capital Reef National Park, link up with an Aussie biker, Paul, driving from the northern most point of the continental Us, Pradoe Bay, to the sourthern most tip of south America, Driving a Suzuki V-Strom, he's been riding since whenever and believes it is the best bike for this kind of job, very much recommends it as a combination tourer, off roader, city bike. But time to have a coffee and head on, it is still running wonderful. Regards to all, Phil

Phil Edmonds
Enroute across the USA