Chapter Four

The night before we had all agreed to meet at 7:30 the next morning to eat and get an early start to get through the desert before it got too hot. The Dow did not offer breakfast like the other hotels we had visited so we hiked a block down to McDonalds. All the drifter cars and all occupants thereof were gone, off to their event I reckon. Walking down the road which closely resembled (with some modern improvements of course) an old western town from back in the cowboy days, someone mentioned the mountains on both sides of us. Looking up I noticed on either side of town was a small rocky mountain ridge not too far in the distance. So close in fact it looked as though you could almost throw a rock to the base of it. Having ridden into this valley after dark it was not visible until daylight the next morning. It was my first look at mountains without trees or greenery of any kind. The whole town, with the old buildings, had an old back in time appeal to it. I thought it was just beautiful.

After breakfast we gassed up fearing no gas stations for a while, bought extra bottles of water just in case, smeared on plenty of sunscreen lotion, and headed for the desert. The morning air felt dry and stale kind of like a hot muggy day about mid-morning. I don’t know what the temperature ever got to but Keith’s thermometer was pegged all day.

Less than an hour in, we came to an area with a several junk cars and trucks scattered all over the place. Then, around a curve there was a Shell station on the right. Thinking fast, that this was a Godsend to our gas shortage dilemma, we whipped in to refill our tanks. Pulling up to one of only two pumps, we noticed three other bikes parked in front of the store. Simultaneously, out of the door came Chuck and his friends. Fancy meeting them there, after three days of riding different routes. We talked a little while and they went on their way, and we rested a bit longer, ate some not so refreshing ice cream and continued on our own way.

The day persistently kept getting hotter although it felt some better riding than standing still. At least there was some air moving around us, still I was concerned about our air cooled engines overheating. It was hard to imagine that just the day before there was snow on the ground. We passed through valleys, up and down mountains, traveling on straight and curved roads. On one long straight stretch I slowed down to tell Devon behind me to slow down so I could go ahead to take a video of the group as they passed by. I thought it would make for a good picture.

There is nothing in my memory of a place as desolate as this place was, but at the same time it was kind of fascinating. It was hard to imagine anything surviving here, other than scorpions and the likes. It was interesting seeing how the desert was laid out, with both flat land and mountain ranges, passing what seemed to be little towns here and there, and places like Devil’s Cornfield, campgrounds, and even an airport. We even passed one place where there were people hiking, with big knapsacks on their backs, loaded with water no doubt. Why would anyone want to punish themselves like that? I wondered.

Our second stop of the day was the "low "part of the day, at 196 feet below sea level. There was a sort of an oasis in the middle of nowhere called Furnace Creek. It had a visitor’s center and museum so we stopped to find some relief from the heat and shopped a little. Back on our way, we took a cutoff road named State line rd, crossed over into Nevada and into Pahrump to the gas stop where we stayed a while relaxing outside. It was still hot but not like what we had just come through. Next stop; Las Vegas.

Coming from the southwest, through the mountains in the distance you could catch glimpse of Vegas in the distance. Literally a city in the middle of the desert. The outskirts were loaded with condo units in unbelievable numbers. It didn’t seem like the country’s economic downturn was affecting construction here. I had intended to stop at the welcome to Las Vegas sign to take pictures but it was on the left in the center of the road and we were in the right lane so we passed it. So then it was on to a Subway for a bite before hitting the town (so to speak).

After lunch of course the next stop had to be the Harley shop. Devon said he had been here before and knew about where it was so I let him lead so I could take lots of pictures of all the casinos and hotels we passed by. Pulling into the Harley place, where there was hardly any parking at all, they went and I stayed outside and took pictures of the rollercoaster ride across the street. In front of the Harley shop there was a Harley motorcycle sticking halfway out of the building as if it was busting through the wall. Mark didn’t stay in for long and he came flying outside and in a very excited and impatience voice said that this mostly a restaurant and that we had to go back two or three blocks to some road than turn left on Eastern blvd and the Harley shop was on the left. Well, I couldn’t let that happen, this was my first and probably only trip to Vegas and I wanted to see the Strip( for pictures sake only), so I told him we would continue on straight up the Strip and find another rd over because we were headed in that same direction anyway. So, on we went. It wasn’t much farther before it appeared we were coming to the end of the strip and I saw a billboard pointing to the right on Sahara st. advertising the Harley Davidson of Las Vegas, so right we went.

We stayed at the dealership a pretty good while. It felt so cool in there, we didn’t want to leave. After everyone bought what they wanted, on we went again. Heading onward toward Hoover Dam, we past through an interesting part of town. There was an old McDonald’s restaurant, like it was an original one left over from the 50’S, with the old style arches and it was smaller than those of today, like you could just walk up to the window and order you burger

In my mirror I could see a bike in the left hand lane. I didn’t pay it much attention, I just kind of expected it to pass us and it never did. Next time I looked back he was riding along side about halfway back of our pack, for several blocks. Finally when he came up beside me I saw it was a black woman in a white outfit with pink trim and fringe and white boots, on a white Harley. She must have thought she was something and I guess enjoyed showing off her riding talents or herself to a bunch of guys. After riding along side me for awhile she drove on ahead and left us in her dust.

We kept riding east on 147 to Boulder Beach hwy alongside Lake Meade as it followed down to Hoover Dam. Driving up to a gate, we again had to pay to see one of our national monuments. Paying the fare we made our way down the winding road toward the dam. Upon reaching the dam the speed dropped to about 15 mph, people were walking along the road on a sidewalk, like it was the pavilion at the beach, there was also a souvenir shop on the left I guess that’s where everyone was going to or maybe there was a lookout somewhere overlooking the dam. I took out my camera to take shots only I couldn’t see over the railing so I held it up as high as I could and just kept snapping pictures. Off to our right was a magnificent structure, a bridge suspended in mid air and ended there as if it was an Evel Knevel ramp in preparation for jumping over the Hoover Dam. It was the new bypass and overlook bridge under construction. Traffic was at a standstill coming in the other direction, it was backed up as far as we could see up the road as it wound back and forth up to the top of that side of the mountain, and continued on for several miles. I was sure glad we weren’t coming from the East.

Leaving the dam, I 93 was a very boring ride. Maybe it was getting late or I was just tired but it seemed to go on forever. Our destination was Williams Az. and still it was about 200 miles away. At a rest stop, which came along none too soon, Mark told me of a very popular Harley shop in Kingman called Mothers Harley Davidson, I told him I doubted it would be open at about 6:00 on a Sunday but would stop if it was. It wasn’t. Turning left in Kingman on I 40 we rode the last stretch to Williams. It was past dark when we arrived, and wore out from the trip, we unloaded and settled into our rooms then met to find some grub. We settled on a local place a couple of blocks away within walking distance but decided to ride anyway, it was much easier. The name of the restaurant was Pancho McGillicuddy’s an interesting mix for a restaurant, but it was food and it was close. Walking in they had all sorts of animals mounted on the walls and all were decorated with some kind of Mardi gras paraphernalia, beads, colored wigs, sunglasses and all kinds of hats. We followed the waitress past the bar area to the back dining room on the end where we were alone, which was fine with me because it was very loud in the bar area. The menu was mainly Mexican so we all had tacos or burritos or something along that line. The food was pretty good. After dinner going back to the bikes, we had parked at the parking area of the historic train station that used to take tourist up to the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. There was a mural on the wall so we took some pictures with it as a background and went back to the hotel to retire for the night.