Utah - July 3, 2021 Day 2

On July 24, 1847, Brigham Young was leading the Mormon pioneers west, and saw Salt Lake Valley for the first time. He declared “This is the Place.” And it was there that the pioneers settled and made the desert bloom. 

At the time, Brigham Young was ill with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and was riding in the back of a wagon. I wonder if he knew what a beautiful place Salt Lake is.  

After feeding Magellan for the first time today, we went to meet my rental Harley - it was almost like a blind date to see what would show up. 

The motorcycle isn't bad. It is a newer Harley Street Glide. It is quiet, shifts better than my CVO but it does not have highway pegs (on which to rest your feet on the highway). I sound like a princess. 

We headed east into the Uintah mountains - remarkable because they are formed east and west, not north and south. We traversed Big Cottonwood Canyon on the way to lunch in Heber City. 

Big Cottonwood canyon is the home of the Solitude Ski Resort, one of the closer ski resorts to SLC.  The Wasatch front is immediate from the valley floor - it goes right from the valley to the mountains. Because the road is so treacherous in winter, they have parking at the base of the mountains and you can take a shuttle to the ski resort. 

Or, you can drive. But at times in the winter the road is closed, or they require chains:

There are signs telling visitors not to park in certain areas because of the danger of avalanches. And there are signs telling people not to pick up spent ordnance - they use a military howitzer/cannon to shoot into the mountains to dislodge the snow - creating an avalanche when it cannot harm persons or property. 

At the summit, we had our first Harley adventure. There is a Harley culture, and if you ride a Harley, you are part of that culture.

At the summit of Big Cottonwood Canyon, we parked our bikes. And soon behind us a group of Harley riders pulled up. They dismounted, walked toward us, the first person to reach us stuck out his hand and said "Hi, I'm Ben, what's your name?" That is what started a long conversation.

Let me paint the picture for you. There were three guys in the group. All had on leathers with multiple patches. Ben had a Glock affixed to his vest, the second guy had a beard which indicated that he might identify with ZZ Top or might be a refugee from the Band. On his vest, his bike and on his helmet, were the words "Harley Scum." The third guy fit the same mold. All were tatted.

So we spent the next 20 minutes or so talking to these three riders, when a car load of old ladies shows up. I am talking old: one of them was on a walker. The ladies were incredibly enamored with their Harleys. They were touching the Harleys, ogling them and then they wanted their pictures taken with the three riders. Ben explained that the only reason the old ladies wanted pictures of them (together with the Old Ladies), and not of Magellan, Buttercup or me - is because they were "rough." We had a laugh over that. The Harley riders were some of the nicest people we've met on the road. 

As you can see, we don't look "rough:"

And after saying our goodbyes,  away we went. 

This is the view looking down from the summit into Heber City:

This is the view the other way, looking toward Salt Lake:

Of course, when we entered Heber City, it was time to feed Magellan - again. So we tried a local Mexican restaurant:

The food was good, but even Buttercup struggled to finish his plate:

I think that volume would have fed all three of us. 

We traveled through the high desert on our way to Vernal through one of the three Ute Indian reservations - the second largest after the Navajo nation - a total of 4 million acres.

Buttercup reported that the temperature reached 99 degrees. Traveling at 70 - 75 mph with a 30 mph cross wind, it was like being in a convection oven. Accordingly, we stopped every hour to re-hydrate. But please, no horses on the grass!

We traveled through Vernal and dinosaur country:

Afterward, we entered Colorado and drove the Stegosaurus Highway to Rangely, Colorado where we have bedded our bikes down for the night. 

In Rangely, there are three restaurants: an Italian place, a bar with burgers and someone said there was a sandwich shop somewhere. We opted for the Italian restaurant. As we sat there, an overwhelming smell enveloped the place. Sixteen Forest Service firefighters came in and sat behind us: smelling of smoke and like guys who have out working in 100 degree heat all day. And they were very much welcomed. 

The Oil Creek fire recently burned 5,000 acres 15 miles south of Rangely. Accordingly, 400 federal firefighters are living in tents on a local community college campus working to defeat the fire. God love those guys. 

A little treat from Buttercup: the sun going down over dinosaur country:

We rode 251 miles today, with a lot of slow-going over switchbacks. Tomorrow, it is Arches National Park.