If it wasn't for that mountain, the sun would have begun working its magic a lot sooner on that second, very chilly morning of my trip to the Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument. Located just to the west of Grand Canyon National Park on the north rim, The Parashant is almost as large, and believe it or not, even more remote. There were really three reasons for this particular destination, in no meaningful order.
One - Kelley Point, the southernmost extent of the monument, had been my goal back in 2001. I was riding my first Kawasaki KLR650, a '97 model. Living in Kanab, UT at the time, it was only a day trip, but I got distracted by several other tempting roads along the way, and never made it to Kelley Point.
Two - I had not yet ridden into Arizona on my KTM, and that was the only remaining western state to be colored in on the RV sticker I had plastered to my top box before my first long ride on the orange bike in 2012.
Three - Friends of ours from our Utah days were now living in St. George, and I hadn't visited them there yet - and their house was only minutes from the end of the pavement!
Behind me, I could see that the ridge tops were being lit up, but down here in the valley, it was still hovering in the mid twenties! When I left the hotel in Cedarville at 6:30 it was a balmy 35 degrees, but it was still dark then. Indeed it is true that there's always a dip in temperature right after it gets light. Fortunately, it was a dry morning and there was no frost on the pavement.
By the time I made it to Gerlach, Nevada - even smaller than Cedarville - I was soaking up the sun's rays like a lizard on a rock. Slowly, the shivering subsided, and full blood flow returned to all the extremities. My new taller screen helped reduce the wind chill factor, but anything below freezing is just cold, even standing still. If I'm going to do more rides in the fall, I may need to break down and invest in some heated gear!
Pyramid Lake, about 20 miles north of Interstate 80, was the landmark that signaled my return to civilization. After turning in the night before, I had considered detouring down the High Rock Canyon Jeep trail today. Located southeast of Cedarville, the original plan was to do it on my way back, adding a third day to my return to Oregon. But that was before I changed my route and went south from Klamath Falls instead of east, bringing me much closer to the canyon. Before falling asleep, however, I had decided to continue with Plan A, attempting to make it to the St. George area in only two days, despite the fact that I hadn't yet reached the half way point at the end of Day 1.
Part of my thinking was a reluctance to call my friends and tell them I'd be a day late. I'd already postponed my trip by a week, due to an enormous storm that brought 85 mph winds and even a tornado to the northern Oregon coast! Then there was my rule of thumb to always accomplish the primary objective before taking side trips. What a shame it would be to run into some sort of trouble down in the canyon that would make it impossible to continue to the Parashant and cross Arizona off my list. Final confirmation had come with the dark cold of morning. A narrow deep canyon simply did not sound like a fun place to be.
Things were going quite well after sun up - until I hit road construction outside of Tonopah. I'd only gone 435 miles before stopping for the night at the JnR, so according to my calculations, I had to make 765 today. That would not be easy. For off-freeway travel, I can normally average only about 50 miles per hour, including stops. That sounds slow, I know, but on a motorcycle, you have to stop for every little thing - drink of water, switch to sunglasses, remove quilted jacket liner, clean face shield, etc. Then there's photos and gas, of course. Even though I can go 200 miles on a tank, the spacing of fuel stations is rarely ideal, so I'll end up stopping more like every 140 - much more frequently than in a car. All that considered, I could be looking at a 15 hour day. I left at 6:30 am., so that makes an arrival time of around 9:30 pm. - if all goes well. Oh, I forgot about the time zone boundary. Heading east that adds an hour. Make that 10:30. Ouch.
They call Nevada 50 the "Loneliest Highway in America," but I don't think "They" have ever traversed 375. I could have stayed on 50, but it wanders around quite a bit, and today I needed the most direct route to southern Nevada I could get. And that's how I ended up here. What, you say you can't read that sign?
How's this? All the stickers still make it difficult, but yes, the official highway sign reads "Extraterrestrial Highway Nevada 375." Conveniently in this case, the shortest path between two points was also the most interesting, as 375 runs near the northern boundary of Nellis Air Force Range, home of Top Secret Area 51.
More than 100 miles of basically empty desert past Tonopah, I spotted this nicely paved road to the south. Could it be? The little green sign reads CEDAR GATE. Gate to what?
A quick Internet search after my return brought up reports of large white trucks going in and out at all hours of the day, and of the high frequency of "sightings" in the area. Then, when I uploaded this picture, I noticed the multiple white horizontal streaks in the sky, and four rainbow colored vertical ones, just to the right of my motorcycle.
Of course, I didn't notice any of that while I was there, so I thought it would be a good time to add my spare fuel to the tank. Back in Tonopah, I'd put an extra gallon in that red jug, just in case. I didn't know if any of the small towns ahead would have gas, but it was obviously a long way to any larger ones. Just as I finished, a large unmarked SUV with government plates drove up from the direction of the CEDAR GATE. As it came to a stop beside me and the window rolled down, I wondered if I'd been seen taking photos, and was about to have my camera confiscated. "Everything OK?" the woman called out. I gave her a "thumbs up" and she turned onto 375 and sped away.
As it turned out, getting some extra gas was the right decision. It was over 190 miles to the next station in Caliente, and with the higher than average Nevada speed limits, I wasn't quite making my normal 40 miles per gallon. The closest things I saw to alien life forms were these Joshua Trees in the distance - native to the Mojave Desert. The best thing about this scene was that, unlike all the other times I've been this far southwest, the temperature was only 76 degrees!
I called my friends just before dark from Panaca, 19 miles west of the Utah border. I told them it would still be a couple more hours, and that if they didn't want me to arrive so late, I'd just spend the night here. Ed insisted I come on, and in almost exactly that amount of time, I found myself pulled up next to his gracefully aging Beemer - a BMW he's had since before I met him, over 15 years ago.
The local time was 8:30. Total miles that day had been only 725 - not sure where that other 40 went - and I'd averaged 56 rather than 50 mph. Not bad. Thirteen hours in the saddle was a pretty respectable day. But tomorrow would be the real test.
Behind me, I could see that the ridge tops were being lit up, but down here in the valley, it was still hovering in the mid twenties! When I left the hotel in Cedarville at 6:30 it was a balmy 35 degrees, but it was still dark then. Indeed it is true that there's always a dip in temperature right after it gets light. Fortunately, it was a dry morning and there was no frost on the pavement.
By the time I made it to Gerlach, Nevada - even smaller than Cedarville - I was soaking up the sun's rays like a lizard on a rock. Slowly, the shivering subsided, and full blood flow returned to all the extremities. My new taller screen helped reduce the wind chill factor, but anything below freezing is just cold, even standing still. If I'm going to do more rides in the fall, I may need to break down and invest in some heated gear!
Pyramid Lake, about 20 miles north of Interstate 80, was the landmark that signaled my return to civilization. After turning in the night before, I had considered detouring down the High Rock Canyon Jeep trail today. Located southeast of Cedarville, the original plan was to do it on my way back, adding a third day to my return to Oregon. But that was before I changed my route and went south from Klamath Falls instead of east, bringing me much closer to the canyon. Before falling asleep, however, I had decided to continue with Plan A, attempting to make it to the St. George area in only two days, despite the fact that I hadn't yet reached the half way point at the end of Day 1.
Part of my thinking was a reluctance to call my friends and tell them I'd be a day late. I'd already postponed my trip by a week, due to an enormous storm that brought 85 mph winds and even a tornado to the northern Oregon coast! Then there was my rule of thumb to always accomplish the primary objective before taking side trips. What a shame it would be to run into some sort of trouble down in the canyon that would make it impossible to continue to the Parashant and cross Arizona off my list. Final confirmation had come with the dark cold of morning. A narrow deep canyon simply did not sound like a fun place to be.
Things were going quite well after sun up - until I hit road construction outside of Tonopah. I'd only gone 435 miles before stopping for the night at the JnR, so according to my calculations, I had to make 765 today. That would not be easy. For off-freeway travel, I can normally average only about 50 miles per hour, including stops. That sounds slow, I know, but on a motorcycle, you have to stop for every little thing - drink of water, switch to sunglasses, remove quilted jacket liner, clean face shield, etc. Then there's photos and gas, of course. Even though I can go 200 miles on a tank, the spacing of fuel stations is rarely ideal, so I'll end up stopping more like every 140 - much more frequently than in a car. All that considered, I could be looking at a 15 hour day. I left at 6:30 am., so that makes an arrival time of around 9:30 pm. - if all goes well. Oh, I forgot about the time zone boundary. Heading east that adds an hour. Make that 10:30. Ouch.
They call Nevada 50 the "Loneliest Highway in America," but I don't think "They" have ever traversed 375. I could have stayed on 50, but it wanders around quite a bit, and today I needed the most direct route to southern Nevada I could get. And that's how I ended up here. What, you say you can't read that sign?
How's this? All the stickers still make it difficult, but yes, the official highway sign reads "Extraterrestrial Highway Nevada 375." Conveniently in this case, the shortest path between two points was also the most interesting, as 375 runs near the northern boundary of Nellis Air Force Range, home of Top Secret Area 51.
More than 100 miles of basically empty desert past Tonopah, I spotted this nicely paved road to the south. Could it be? The little green sign reads CEDAR GATE. Gate to what?
A quick Internet search after my return brought up reports of large white trucks going in and out at all hours of the day, and of the high frequency of "sightings" in the area. Then, when I uploaded this picture, I noticed the multiple white horizontal streaks in the sky, and four rainbow colored vertical ones, just to the right of my motorcycle.
Of course, I didn't notice any of that while I was there, so I thought it would be a good time to add my spare fuel to the tank. Back in Tonopah, I'd put an extra gallon in that red jug, just in case. I didn't know if any of the small towns ahead would have gas, but it was obviously a long way to any larger ones. Just as I finished, a large unmarked SUV with government plates drove up from the direction of the CEDAR GATE. As it came to a stop beside me and the window rolled down, I wondered if I'd been seen taking photos, and was about to have my camera confiscated. "Everything OK?" the woman called out. I gave her a "thumbs up" and she turned onto 375 and sped away.
As it turned out, getting some extra gas was the right decision. It was over 190 miles to the next station in Caliente, and with the higher than average Nevada speed limits, I wasn't quite making my normal 40 miles per gallon. The closest things I saw to alien life forms were these Joshua Trees in the distance - native to the Mojave Desert. The best thing about this scene was that, unlike all the other times I've been this far southwest, the temperature was only 76 degrees!
I called my friends just before dark from Panaca, 19 miles west of the Utah border. I told them it would still be a couple more hours, and that if they didn't want me to arrive so late, I'd just spend the night here. Ed insisted I come on, and in almost exactly that amount of time, I found myself pulled up next to his gracefully aging Beemer - a BMW he's had since before I met him, over 15 years ago.
The local time was 8:30. Total miles that day had been only 725 - not sure where that other 40 went - and I'd averaged 56 rather than 50 mph. Not bad. Thirteen hours in the saddle was a pretty respectable day. But tomorrow would be the real test.
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