The next morning dawned. Cold, clear, and… cold. Really cold.

I’ve learned the best, most logical thing to do when the morning dawns clear and cold is run back to the safety of the covers, which I gladly did. Ambitious schedule or not, freezing to death is not exactly the way I want to go out. (For those that are interested, I want to go out in a huge, exploding, flaming ball of fire, on live TV, taking several thousand startled people along with me… ) It was already obvious the second evolving theme of this ride would be Mother Nature and her fickle mood swings.

After the greenhouse gasses we released the day before worked their magic for a while, the planet returned to a nearly suitable temperature, and Dark Meat and I decided it was safe to venture out.

First stop? Breakfast.

Two years ago, Dark Meat Snack, Sleeping Beauty and I rode to the Grand Canyon on many of these same roads. We stumbled upon the Kofa Cafe out there in the middle of somewhere, and had such a memorable breakfast that I needed to return.

The locals seem to have been coming to the Kofa Cafe for years. Conversation stops when newcomers walk in, but once you get the hairy eyeball for a few minutes, you are accepted into the family. It’s a great place.

And they have a huge map of the US on the wall. Before we left, I checked to see if the pin I stuck in my hometown last time was still there. It wasn’t. Some scumbag removed it, so I stuck fifteen pins into my little slice of the Kingdom of Rhode Island, and tried to put a RI flag sticker up too, but I got caught.

Not sure if we’ll be invited back to the family next time, but breakfast was still good.

We raced up the barren expanse of Route 60, stopping briefly outside the little town of Hope.

Beyond Hope – Propor Grammer Opshonal

Vulture City is a ghost town located a few miles off Route 60. The legend has it that the mining town got its name from a vulture that was shot by a drunken cowboy landed on a gold nugget. Since there aren’t many lighthouses in the middle of Arizona, Dark Meat and I decided to pay the ghost town a visit.

The road into Vulture is a tangled mess of curves, and nearly deserted too. To me there’s no greater feeling than finding one of these state maintained racetracks.

The last mile to Vulture City was a fun little off-road dirt adventure for half our group, and not so much fun for Abi.

He hates dirt. This dirt hatred is good foreshadowing for the end of our day, but that’s getting ahead of the story.

The caretaker at Vulture City was a character straight out of a Louis L’Amour novel. Big cowboy hat, six shooter holstered at his side, he cut an impressive figure. His first question was, “How’d you boys hear about Vulture City? From one of those websites that said it’s $5 to come in? Well, It ain’t. It’s $10.”

Err.. OK. Considering we’d already risked life and limb riding that dirt road to get there, and considering he was armed and we were not, we paid the increased admission and set off to explore the ghost town.

Along a trail, Dark Meat Snack made a startling discovery. There’s still gold in them thar hills!

If I had a six-shooter, I could have easily renamed the town Dark Meat Snack City. Pity.

Determined to get my full $10 out of Vulture City, I took a quick dip in the conveniently provided hot tub.

$10 And No Hot Water?

When Abi and I originally decided on this trip, I posted our plan on a few motorcycling forums, asking if anyone felt like taking in a few smelly strays for the night. A few people bravely responded – not surprisingly all from Motorcyclist Cafe. Dean from the Motorcyclist Cafe Bunkhouse and Barn graciously offered me and Abi a place to sleep, so we aimed our bikes north, following a route kindly provided by Motorcyclist Cafe member ‘Jamming,’ towards the comfort and shelter of a stranger.

The route ‘Jamming’ provided was tremendous. I couldn’t help the wide smile on my face as I tried to coax a little more lean angle out of Rain Cloud Follows, rolling through the gravity defying corners of the excellent Route 89.

After lunch, I called Dean to let him know how far out we were. He told me to hurry, because Mz Pam was about to start cooking dinner, a huge meal of barbecued ribs. I hated to do it, but I had to break the news that while I am a HUGE fan of barbecue, with the thick middle to prove it, Dark Meat Snack is vegetarian. Somewhat disappointed sounding, Dean replied, “He is? Well… shit. I don’t have much food for one of.. them. I might have some cereal or something. I guess he can have that and watch us eat. Tell that boy he needs to eat meat like normal people.”

I knew right then that Dean and I would get along just fine.

On the way to the Motorcyclist Cafe Bunkhouse and Barn, Abi and I made one last, quick detour to see Montezuma’s Castle National Monument.

After staring at the ancient cliff dwelling for a few minutes, Abi turned to me and shared another of his invaluable Nuggets of Knowledge, saying, “Dude, it’s not even a castle, it’s just a fucking condo stuck in a cliff. I get it. Let’s go.”

I hate to say it, but I had to agree with this Nugget. And, dinner was calling. We made short work of the road between us and the Bunkhouse. I stopped to call Dean for final directions, and he said he’d meet us on his ATV and lead us the rest of the way.

We rode to the meeting point, and saw a few flashes from ATV headlights. Seeing our approach, Dean swung his four wheeler around and took off like a banshee!

Who Is This Madman?

At one point I looked at the FJR speedometer, and I swear we were doing close to 70 MPH! It was all I could do to keep up with this guy, but as fast as he was, there was no way he was going to give us the slip. We’d come a fairly long way to see the mythical Motorcyclist Cafe Bunkhouse and Barn.

And man, was the trip worth it!

The next installment of this epic odyssey can be found here.

Author: frenchy