Saturday, June 2, 2018
Looking at the map below you might surmise there's probably a shorter route from Bryce Canyon to Monument Valley.
Looking at the map below you might surmise there's probably a shorter route from Bryce Canyon to Monument Valley.
You'd be right.
You also know I've never been big on taking the most direct route.
The ride was majestic, spectacular, awesome, yadda yadda.
See for yourself!
I shot a lot more footage (is it really "footage" if there's nothing about a video that can be measured in feet?) that unfortunately turned out to be unusable despite the scenic granduer it captured, either because the roads were too rough for the fairing-mounted camera, or because after I mounted the camera on my helmet the lens was immediately obscured by a bug splat.
In Blanding I was cheered to spot a sign promising "Chinese Thai" right next to the gas station. A second look dashed my momentary exuberance when I saw the weeds growing up through the pavement cracks. After a trawl through town and finding precious little in the way of restaurants, Pop's Burritos ended up being the place for an excessively large pile of stuff wrapped in a tortilla and smothered with chile verde.
It had been pleasantly cool most of the day, but the last fifty miles were pretty hot. What really did me in was the toll booth to Monument Valley -- I didn't know there would even be such a thing and I felt broiled after sitting in the sun while the line of cars ahead crept forward at an entirely inadequate rate of progress. By the time I checked into The View Hotel I was wasted. Fortunately I met Gary in the elevator and he helped me drag my gear up to the room. Larry and Jana joined us with coolers full of ice and drinks and food while I gazed stupefied at the iconic tableau beyond the balcony rail.
My riding* companions were somewhat impressed by the video (with musical soundtrack) that I'd produced up to this point. I soured my own mood trying to catch up with video and blog posting, again with little success or even progress. I finally gave up, had another Kilt Lifter Scotch Ale (or 4) and watched the shadows creep up the rock walls as the sun set.
I didn't bother taking any pictures, because Larry did with a much better camera and skills. He had a plan for transferring them to my device so I could post them directly into my blog but I was already failing on most of those technical requirements, and it was just too complicated a scheme for me to absorb at the time.
When he gets around to posting them I'll update this blog with a link or whatever.
*See next dispatch.
You also know I've never been big on taking the most direct route.
The ride was majestic, spectacular, awesome, yadda yadda.
See for yourself!
I shot a lot more footage (is it really "footage" if there's nothing about a video that can be measured in feet?) that unfortunately turned out to be unusable despite the scenic granduer it captured, either because the roads were too rough for the fairing-mounted camera, or because after I mounted the camera on my helmet the lens was immediately obscured by a bug splat.
In Blanding I was cheered to spot a sign promising "Chinese Thai" right next to the gas station. A second look dashed my momentary exuberance when I saw the weeds growing up through the pavement cracks. After a trawl through town and finding precious little in the way of restaurants, Pop's Burritos ended up being the place for an excessively large pile of stuff wrapped in a tortilla and smothered with chile verde.
It had been pleasantly cool most of the day, but the last fifty miles were pretty hot. What really did me in was the toll booth to Monument Valley -- I didn't know there would even be such a thing and I felt broiled after sitting in the sun while the line of cars ahead crept forward at an entirely inadequate rate of progress. By the time I checked into The View Hotel I was wasted. Fortunately I met Gary in the elevator and he helped me drag my gear up to the room. Larry and Jana joined us with coolers full of ice and drinks and food while I gazed stupefied at the iconic tableau beyond the balcony rail.
My riding* companions were somewhat impressed by the video (with musical soundtrack) that I'd produced up to this point. I soured my own mood trying to catch up with video and blog posting, again with little success or even progress. I finally gave up, had another Kilt Lifter Scotch Ale (or 4) and watched the shadows creep up the rock walls as the sun set.
I didn't bother taking any pictures, because Larry did with a much better camera and skills. He had a plan for transferring them to my device so I could post them directly into my blog but I was already failing on most of those technical requirements, and it was just too complicated a scheme for me to absorb at the time.
When he gets around to posting them I'll update this blog with a link or whatever.
*See next dispatch.
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