Day 11- Romance in Another Sense
Moab in the morning. Ahhh… Sunrise on the saturated red landscape was reflected against the mile-high sky turning the bottoms of billowing white clouds a pronounced pink. Riding under a clear azure sky through this stunning, very romantic scene, I wondered is this the Tuono honeymoon, or have I been overwhelmed with the magic of the Utah desert? When we reach the twisty roads and wind our way through immense red rock walls I think, this is why some consider motorcycling a religious experience.
We dove straight into the Navajo and Hopi Indian Reservations, eventually turning onto Route 191 which is considered one of the best motorcycling roads in the country. Sure enough we passed loads of bikers headed in both directions. Skirting the Manti-La Sal National Forest we dropped down into the Valley of the Gods and then wound our way up towards the Navajo Nation. At Bluff, Utah we veered into brilliant-red Navajo country feeling like we’d taken a right turn directly onto Mars. Glorious red rock was all we rode through for miles, passing the famous Mexican Hat, a spectacular rock formation that, well, looks like a guy wearing a Mexican hat, or sombrero to be exact.
As if that weren’t enough, once we throttled into Monument Valley I shook my head at the realization that these high narrow towers had to be taller than the skyscrapers in New York City and minus the steel infrastructures. (My hypothesis is, of course, completely unscientific research, but these peaks are high beyond comprehension)
Leaving the towering monuments, it was time to make our way up to Flagstaff, and Historic RT 66 to our stop for the night. Williams, Arizona, located in the heart of the Kaibab National Forest at an elevation of 6,770 feet. Also known as the "Gateway to the Grand Canyon", Williams was the last town in America on Historic Route 66 to be bypassed by Interstate 40. The quaint community, named after a mountain man and trapper, William "Old Bill" Williams, continues to thrive on tourism.
Tomorrow it’s time to hit the highway early to ride the last 450 miles back home. More slab, more heat, more traffic. Yawn.
