~ Where East meets West ~

"Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect" ~ Chief Seattle

Leaving Three Rivers at 6 am as the sun in the east peaks over Sequoia National Park

Rarely do I ride 1,800 miles just because a stranger suggests an awesome ride.  "This ride is in Utah," he said.  I had just met Scott in Springerville, Arizona, and he was already persuading me on a great ride in Utah, near his home.

He called it the Nebo Loop, a place near Spanish Fork, Utah.  Never heard of it, let alone been there.  He seemed like a real biker so I listened.  "Utah is so beautiful, and this ride on the Nebo Loop is awesome; I know you'd love it."  Apparently, he owns a fly fishing shop.  His card read 'Scott's Fly Fishing Shoppe.'

Honestly, I thought I'd never see him again.  But fate has its own ways of correcting our misjudgments.  So, 900 miles later, I was looking for Scott's Fly Shoppe where we agreed to meet in Spanish Fork, Utah.

I left Three Rivers, California two days earlier.  The alarm clock rudely rang at 5 a.m. and reluctantly I got out of bed.  My first stop was only ten miles down the road when I saw the sun poking its head over the Sierra Range in Sequoia National Park.  I always try to connect with someone or something on each of my trips.  It's just something I do to allow the karma to follow through me on another adventure.  The morning sunset was that karma.

The hot desert sun across the Mojave Desert was intense.  I applied tons of sunscreen and drank gallons of water.  The temperature, as I passed Las Vegas, was 107 degrees.  The hot wind would be with me until I reached Utah that evening.

As I approach, Cedar City, Utah there is a large fire burning to the west.  I would later hear from my nephew Ruben who works for the U.S. Forest Service in fire management that this fire was huge.  He would later tell me that he and his crew would be redirected from Mesa, Arizona back to fight the fires in Utah where a second large fire broke out.

The XX fire near Cedar City, Utah

I had never been to Cedar Breaks National Monument so that's where I'm heading.  Cedar Breaks sits at over 10,000 feet and looks down into a half-mile deep geologic amphitheater.  At this higher elevation, the air is cool and such a relief from the hot desert.  There are wildflowers everywhere and though it is windy, I immediately like this National Park Service gem.  The night sky is crystal-clear and sleep comes easily after the punishing hot desert winds.

I plan to do a story for RoadRUNNER Motorcycle Touring & Travel magazine, so I can't spill all the beans just yet.  But here are a few pictures from this amazing National Park Service area in Utah.

Entering Cedar Breaks NM

Cedar Breaks NM, at the awesome North View overlook

Robert at the North View overlook, 10,435'

My awesome Yamaha Road Star

I meet Scott at his Fly Shoppe in Spanish Fork early in the morning.  He introduces me to his friends and takes me into his fly shoppe which is rich with feathers, hooks, poles, and art.  Little did I know but Scott is also a musician and gives guitar lessons.

A biker, a fly fisherman, a musician.

Scott Masters in front of his business, 'Scott's Fly Shoppe'

An awesome sign above the door

Scott explains how he ties unique, one of a kind flies

Scott's shoppe is full of flies and art

He provides options and I select the Nebo Loop Byway which I had never been on before.  This byway crosses the Uinta National Forest between the cities of Nephi and Payson.  Our motorcycles cruise easily to over 9,000 feet in elevation.

Scott and Robert riding the Nebo scenic loop

The views of of Utah valley, the Wasatch Mountains, and 11,928 foot Mount Nebo is breathtaking.  Scott is in the lead, so I can play tourist and comfortably look at the scenery.  He pulls over often for pictures and I am impressed.

"I've seen elk and mountain lion just over there," he tells me.  "The Nebo loop is one of my favorite rides," he adds.  I agree.  A very special ride with a new friend.

Two bikers on an awesome ride

Scott's ride is a Truimph

My ride is this awesome, dependable Yamaha Road Star

"Thanks Scott, an awesome ride. Give me a moment to remember the Nebo Loop"

I'm now heading west on Highway 6 for Great Basin National Park in Nevada.  I plan to camp there tonight, after some 150 miles.  The road is often described as the "Lonely Highway' but for me, I love the wide open country.  It's rare these days to see for fifty miles without another soul in sight.

Amazing. Adventure. Alive.

It's evening as I approach Great Basin NP

When I travel, I do not keep track of time or days so when I arrived at Great Basin National Park all three campgrounds are full.  It is Friday and the busy summer months are here.  As I circle the last campground, a young biker flags me down.  "All of the sites are full," he says.  "You're welcome to camp here at my site."  Tired, and thinking that it could be another 100 miles before I found a suitable campsite, I thank him.  This will be home for tonight.

Sharing a camping site with this biker at the Baker Creek Campground

"My name is Jim, and I'm coming down from Oregon."  He was a young guy in his late 20's and rode a cool looking Harley-Davidson; kind of reminded me of 'Easy Rider.'  Talk flowed easily.  Apparently, he didn't enjoy camping alone and me on the opposite side of the fence.  I'm glad I took up his offer and we share tales and a few beers that I just grabbed at the general store in Baker.  For such a young guy, he was traveling extensively and I'd call him a real 'adventurist.'  He turned in early as he was planning an extensive 15-mile hike in the morning.

I leave Jim a note as I leave.

Perhaps, we too will meet again. You never know Easy Rider.

My note to Easy Rider

I love this ride towards Ely, Nevada and eventually, I plan to camp on some U.S. Forest Service land between Benton and Bishop, California.

My brother Gilbert and I camped there before and we named the camp 'Paiute Ridge.'

I build a small fire, cook my stew over an open fire, eat my Hostess Cupcake, and gaze at the stars.  It is quiet.  No one around for miles.  My sleeping bag is inches off the dirt and the stars are so bright as I move my finger easily across the entire universe.

My camp site, Paiute Ridge

Near Independence along the Sierra Range.  Almost home.

Tomorrow, I hope to make home.

Arriving home as the sun sets in the west after 1,803 miles, satisfied from a ride out to place called the Nebo Loop

~ In Pursuit of Wildness: Pinnacles National Park ~

After retiring from the National Park Service following a 36-year career—one that took me to many of our nation’s crown jewels, including Yellowstone, Rocky Mountain, Mount Rainier, Joshua Tree, Pinnacles, Bighorn Canyon, and Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks—I set out in search of a new kind of adventure: one found on two wheels.

Traveling light, camping along the way, and taking the backroads whenever possible, I chased wildness across Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, and California.

This is one of those journeys: In Pursuit of Wildness: Pinnacles National Park.

Once upon a time, it was called Pinnacles National Monument, but today it is America’s newest national park. That’s where this story begins...

~ A Motorcycle Legend ~

“You become what you think about all day long.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson.     

~ Robert Griego, Yellowstone National Park ~

His name is iconic, especially in the world of motorcycles, and beyond.

Perhaps, we took the same trails across Montana.  He pursued quality, and me, wildness.  He rode a Honda Super Hawk, 305cc, and I once rode the Yamaha Cross Country Sport, 305cc.  In the day, I raced against his bike and it was faster.  But speed is not what he wrote about, rather he spoke about movement.  His energy was in pursuit of something unique, something that he wanted desperately to find - he called it quality.

He camped along the trail, traveling a simple life, allowing his motorcycle to connect with the world.  All of his encounters added to his mission.  He saw poor examples and great ones.  He focused on the great ones, often trying to convince his son about the better road to follow.  His travel was usually alone, time for him to talk with himself.  He camped lightly on the land and tuned his bike along the way, something he did well.  He often attempted to use the same motorcycle logic to tune his thoughts and often getting stuck in meaningless dialogue, or so he thought.  “Quality, but what is it,” he said.

Montana's Beartooth Pass is directly in front of us.  He spoke about going up this mammoth pass at 10,947 feet, but we are going down the steep zigzag switchbacks towards Red Lodge.

Ruben Griego, Beartooth Pass

He is here, I feel it.  I feel so alive.  The coldness is replaced by the immense wild, landscape.

Today, I am riding a Yamaha Road Star with ample power driven by 1700cc.  Yet, he rode a Honda 305cc and his ride seemed surreal.  I say that because his son was on the back of his bike, and their camping gear was strapped on the back of his motorcycle.  I can not compete with that, and only hope to experience some of the things he might have seen on his cross country trip.  He paints a picture that puts me right there with him.

We are approaching Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area where I once worked.  We lived in Fort Smith and loved being among the Native American, Crow and Cheyenne. 

The Bighorn River is perhaps one of the best trout fishing spots in the world.  There are two inexpensive campgrounds on either side of the river.  On my last trip, my nephew Ruben spots a large black bear running along the shore on the other side of the river.  We do not know why she is running, and then, 100 yards behind are three little bears trying hard to catch up.  In the wild, they must learn to move like this when their mother is ahead of them.  Perhaps, there was a male black bear around or worse a mountain lion.  Today, their little legs would be tired but they learn a valuable lesson.  A nice distraction as I continue reading his book.

Robert Griego, Bighorn River

Robert Griego, Bighorn River

Ruben Griego, Bighorn River

Bighorn Canyon is not far from Beartooth Pass as the eagle flies.  I know how rugged this land is, so I continue to read his words with admiration.  He is riding double, going up and over Beartooth Pass on his bike with spitting snow; I have been there.  I feel the coldness.  What he sees is incredible.  As I turn the pages of his book, I want to say to him ride on.  However,  I know the coldness around him will slow him down.

The words on the page now tell me that they are in Washington.  Their buddies have returned home and he and his son continue to pursue their dreams.  Both struggle with the miles and their thoughts but in the end, they realize that they fulfilled their dreams miles ago, maybe over Beartooth Pass when life was simple -- cold with breathtaking views.

I once took a trip with my son from California, across Arizona, into New Mexico.  

Without really knowing it, it was on fathers day.  For me, it was magic.  We rode, camped, and the land looked similar to what he traveled.  The ride was special and allowed me to finally finish his book.  I've been reading his book for many, many years. 

Older now, I think I know what he was trying to tell me.  Life is about living in the moment, even when changing the spark plugs on your motorcycle.  Accomplishing any task with creativity and passion, doing the very best you can, and then some. You need to feel the wind on your face, feel your bike, I mean really feel it, and allow it to move you from one world into another.  A biker knows what I mean.  Then there are those time when the machine will not move or is in need of immediate mechanical attention.  Self-reliance is knowing that we can do more than we imagine when it comes from our soul, our heart.  Don Shula once said “It’s the start that stops most people.”

"Think about the kickstand," I tell myself.  A simple piece of metal.  It is attached to your machine and your left leg automatically kicks it into place to do its job.  It holds the weight of the bike.  It rests in perfect harmony until you raise it up.  We all have such things that hold us up, even when the weight is heavy.  Think about it.  How often do we acknowledge this simple fact in life?  It could be a friend, family, religion, nature, or your machine.  Logic, creativity, and soul apply to everything in life.

Robert M. Pirsig, the author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, knew this and much, much more.  He is an outstanding ambassador to the motorcycle world and beyond.  Towards the end of his book, he writes “We do need a return to individual integrity, self-reliance and old-fashioned gumption.  We really do.”  Thank you, Robert Pirsig, for your words of inspiration. 

You were right all along. 

The self is more important than the machine.  Yet the machine helps move our soul.  Without the kickstand, the machine falls repeatedly.

For me the soul and machine provide balance, all in the pursuit of wildness, even if only within myself.

Montana's Beartooth Pass