Into the Sawtooth Range

Heavy clouds with light rain leaving Jackpot.  Temps dropping from days of 105 degrees to mid 50's.  Open plains turn to green fields of new hay.  Bugs splattering my windshield.  Feels good to breathe in the cool air.

At Twin Falls HWY 93 meets the Snake River Canyon.  Completed in 1976, the I.B. Perrine Bridge spans the Snake River for 1500 ft.  The bridge rises 486 ft above the canyon floor.  A perfect location for BASE jumpers.

How do you pack your parachute for jumping off a bridge?  They say very carefully with a smile and a prayer.

The ride down is a smooth glide followed with a long hike back up.  Think staying on the blacktop might be smoother.

Several miles east of the bridge along the river is a massive ramp of dirt.  September 8, 1974 was the day Evel Knievel attempted to jump the Snake River Canyon in his  rocket-powered Harley-Davidson sky cycle.  Unfortunately, one of his parachutes deployed on takeoff.  He gently floated down into the canyon.  As Evel would say..."Where there is little risk, there is little reward."

Volcanic outcropping beging to appear along the road.  Craters of the Moon National Monument encompasses three major lava fields and about 400 square miles of sagebrush.  The lava fields are examples of open rift cracks.  They include some of the deepest known on earth at over 800 feet deep.  Speaking of sagebrush...a four foot high tumbleweed is gently moving toward the road ahead.  Back off the throttle, the weed slows, roll on the throttle, the weed speeds up. You know the rest of the story.  More small pieces of tumbleweed covering the bike that you can count.

Six days on the road.  Looking' for a washing machine and dryer tonight in Arco, ID.  Rain in the forecast for tomorrow.

be strong, be safe, Carlan

Meetin' the TRIBE

Last night saw the bikers rolling into the Hotel Nevada in Ely.  Figured it was a Labor Day weekend run beginning.  This morning front of the hotel was crowded with bikes and members of the TRIBE NOMAD MC.  They had ridden in from across Nevada, Oregon, California, and Utah for their annual run.   A special time to patch in new members and remember fallen brothers.  They have 22 chapters internationally.  Didn't take long to start shaking hands and sharing stories.

Redman, International President of the MC, made me an honorary brother.  Other brothers from different states handed me "Brother Cards".  "When you need anything, show the card, we'll take care of you".  Swinging my leg over my bike, several brothers gathered in a circle around me.  Shared a special blessing for a safe trip.  Brotherhood, spirit of the road, that's what it's all about.

Leaving Ely a  sign reads...next gas 124 miles...no services ahead.  And they call HWY 50 the Lonely Highway.

The historic Pony Express route crosses HWY 93 just north of McGill.  Quite a different iron pony.

Gas tank filled at the 124 mile marker.  Another 75 miles to Jackpot.  First heavy winds of the trip.  Front to the west.  Temperatures drop quickly 20 degrees.  Into Jackpot tonight.  Jackpot was founded in 1956 after Idaho banned slot machines.  Jackpot's visitors mostly come from Idaho, as do its power, water, even its clocks are set to Idaho time. 

Kickstand down at the Four Jacks Hotel.  Red carpet in my room with slots and roulette wheels printed in purple.  Pure Nevada border-town gambling.

be strong, be safe, Carlan

Extra-terrestrial life does exist...?

Few miles north of Alamo HWY 93 meets the intersection of Nevada 375.  Better know as the Extraterrestrial Highway leading directly to Area 51.  It was a detour from my route, but it needed to be explored.

Within a few miles it was very apparent extra-terrestrial life does exist.  They seem to come in peace.

Forty miles of road without passing a car HWY 375 comes to Rachel.  Rachel is located just outside the gates of Area 51.

Some of the local residents had stopped by the cafe for lunch.  Asking if I could make a picture they were a bit shy about making eye contact.

Turning back from Area 51 to return to HWY 93 alien objects were seen hanging from Joshua trees.

Rejoining HWY 93 the road opened into the Great Basin.  Mile after mile, cloud after cloud,  the experiences of seeing extra-terrestrial life first hand, making photographs of extra-terrestrial folks,  yes...they must be out there...somewhere....

Kickstand down in Ely, NV at the historic Nevada Hotel.  Probably dreaming about ET tonight.

be strong, be safe, Carlan

Dam...Hoover...that's a lot of concrete

Awaking to pre-dawn light is always a special experience.  This morning was one of those moments.  Early golden sun light shimmered off of Lake Mead as the sky turned deep colbalt blue.  Grabbing the camera, looking out the window of my motel room, the scene took my breath away.  In a sleep caused daze, quickly adjusting the ISO, shutter speed, and f stop, the stunning moment was captured.  Realizing I was shooting in black and white, I went back to bed.  So much for color photography early in the morning.

The first concrete was poured into Hoover Dam on June 6, 1933.  Bureau of Reclamation engineers calculated that if the dam was built in a single continuous pour, the concrete would take 125 years to cool and the resulting stresses would cause the dam to crack and crumble.   Instead, the ground where the dam was to rise was marked with rectangles, and concrete blocks in columns were poured.  A total of 3,250,000 cubic yards of concrete was used in the dam before concrete pouring ceased on May 29, 1935.  The wedge-shaped dam is 660 ft thick at the bottom, narrowing to 45 ft  at the top, leaving room for HWY 93 connecting Nevada and Arizona.  Times have changed things.  Today HWY 93 no longer spans the dam.  You are able to ride or drive across the dam, park for $10, then walk the length of the massive chunk of concrete.

Leaving Bolder City HWY 93 joins a section of I515 snaking through downtown Las Vegas.  Transition is insanely abrupt: the barren desert, then wham bam: Sin City.

Several miles east of Las Vegas HWY 93 appears from under Interstate 15.  A sweeping turn to the north puts me back onto a peaceful two laner.  Finally, out from under the interstates cutting and covering the classic highway.  

HWY 93 traverses the entire length of the Pahranagat Valley.  The valley is a narrow ribbon of green, no more than 1 mile  wide, like an oasis in the vast Nevada desert.  It is approximately 40 miles long running north and south.  The southern half of the valley including two lakes is home to the Pahranagat Wildlife Refuge.

The Pahranagat Range marks the beginning of the Great Basin.  Great it is.  Ranges of mountains  rising  rapidly from the plains.  Clouds filling the sky east to west, north to south.  Breathing easy now.  Feeling the rhythm of the road.  Shadows from the clouds cool the air on my back.  My heart becomes one with the thump of the motor.

Kickstand down in Alamo, NV at Windmill Ridge Cabins.  Cabin 4: fishing cabin with rods and reels on the wall.  Don't plan on much fishing, but the rods and reels are handy just in case I have a fishing dream.

Did you know Elvis was a motorcycle guy?  Had many bikes.  History tells us his favorite was his Harley-Davidson.  Look close...I'm riding the same type Harley Elvis rode.  Maybe a better way of saying it...I'm riding with Elvis.  Couldn't get any better than that.

be strong, be safe, Carlan  

North from Wickenburg

Running on the original pavement of HWY 93 leaving Wickenburg this morning.  From Nogales to Wickenburg the old road has been buried under an interstate.  A few miles down the road survey crews are measuring and marking the roadway.  New signs ahead.  "Future corridor of Interstate 11."  HWY 93 will soon become extant.  Replaced with a high speed multi-lane interstate running border to border.  Good to be experiencing the old road as its known today.

Morning light illuminates the ancient Joshua trees along the road.  A forest of prehistoric beauty.  The Joshua tree is a yucca that grows as a tree and has clusters of spiky leaves, native to arid regions of southwestern North America.  Mile after mile they stand as sentinels across the desert plains.

Late morning breakfast at the Wikleup Trading Post.  Spanish explorers, padres, and miners came to the area as early as 1550.  Indian encampments  are dated much earlier.  Flo and Milo Morgan came to the area, gathered up discarded materials, surplus ammunition crates from WWII, discarded railroad ties, and river sand from the Big Sandy River to build their restaurant.  Flo soon became famous for her tasty family meals and delicious pies.  It is easy to say their proud history and tradition for good food and service lives on.

North of Kingman a short detour from HWY 93 leads to the town of Chloride.  Following the discovery of silver in 1860, Chloride became the oldest mining camp in Arizona.  Dedicated residents preserve the once booming mining camp.  Digger Dave's Biker Bar is the classic spot in town.

Digger Dave came to Chloride to dig over 350 holes and trench a ditch for a water line.  He decided to stay when the water line was completed.  Dave is a biker, family man, lover of all mankind, and owner/operator of DIGGER DAVE'S BIKER BAR.  In less than five minutes we were like a couple of long lost friends sharing and working out all the problems of the world.

Dave is proud of his bar, his home, his Harley, and the special lowrider bike he is building for his grandson.  The world needs more people like Dave.

Back on HWY 93 fingers of Lake Mead began to appear in the canyons.  Mountains rapidly pop up from the plains.  Lake Mead is the largest man-made lake in the western hemisphere, contains 30 million acre-feet of water, just over nine trillion gallons.  It irrigates some 2.5 million acres of land in the US and Mexico.  Hoover Dam just around the corner.  

Kickstand down near the dam.  Looking for the big wedge of concrete in the morning. 

be strong, be safe, Carlan 

Whoa...what a day

Ever had a day when the sun goes down you can't believe where you have been and what you have seen?  Today was that kind of a day for me.  Sun up having breakfast in Nogales in a small family cafe.  As William Heat Moon would say.."a three calendar type of place".  Eggs cooked perfect with chorizro, beans melt in your mouth, rich black Mexican coffee.  Pay the bill, leave a tip, the waiter thanks me, blesses it and puts it into a coffee can.  Two other individuals in the cafe.  Both look up and wish me a good day and a safe trip.  Fire up the bike.  Ride half a mile and hit the border.  Looks like a war zone.  Makes you wonder.

Few short miles north from Nogales is Tumacacori.  In 1691 Eusebio Francisco Kino and his party approached the Pima settlement of  Tumacacori.  It was the beginning of Spain's northward expansion along the west coast corridor home of the Piman Indians.  In 1751 some Pimas attacked the Spanish settlement. The Spanish were driven out for a short time.  By 1786 only a hundred Pima Indians remained at Tumacacori.  Disease, encroaching settlers, and lack of government support changed their homeland.

The original HWY 93 is buried under Interstate I10 from Nogales to Wickenburg.  Temperatures reached upward of 106 degrees.  Ride 40 miles.  Stop drink a bottle of water.  Ride 40 miles.  Stop drink another bottle of water.  Yet, through the heat and burning sun the beauty of the desert continued to create a sense of wonder and beauty.

Checking into a motel in Wickenburg tonight I am greeted with a bag..."Thanks for braking with us...Yahoo".  A special "thank you" for bikers on HWY 93.

Wickenburg: A town that grew up as a gold mining camp in the 1860's.  Cowboys are often seen riding through town.  A few crusty prospectors still search for a strike.

Dinner at the Rancho Bar 7 in Wickenburg.  Ellsie shared local stories.  Met a retired art director from LA.  She told me how she only hired photographers who were free spirited and willing to take a risk.

Good to have the kickstand down in a biker friendly place.  Yea...it's a Mecca.  Another hidden paradise along the Blue HIghways of America.

Whoa...it was a very good day.

be strong, be safe, Carlan

Packin' the gear

Pack in' up the gear. Headed out at o dark hundred for a flight to Tucson. Pickin' up a bike there. Road story for HD HOG magazine. Nogales,Az to Canada via US HWY 93. If you are along the route give me a shout out.

Flyin' back and forth across the southwest just to get to Tuscon.  So much for travelin' through the skies.  Looking for the the black strip of highway with the yellow line. Tucson HD had the bike polished and ready to go.  Harley dealers are unique.  It really is all about family.  Travel to a new destination, pick up a bike, be greeted like family.  Doesn't get any better.  Roll on the throttle, ridin' south toward the Mexico border.  First stop San Xavier Mission, the white castle of the desert.  

At Amado hit the brakes for the worlds largest concrete cow skull.  Big Horn Grill.  Closed.  For sale.  Sign reads: "Don't stop here if you are trying to sell us anything.  We are broke.  Keep moving on.  If you have any extra beer you can share with us, please come on in."  What a time not to have a cooler of cold ones with me.  Keep moving.

Nogales tonight.  Real Mexican food.  Only the cook and waitress working.  Know I am close to the border.  Make the turn at wall in the morning and head north to run HWY 93 border to border.  A good day to be on the road.

be strong, be safe, Carlan