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Story by Glenn Roberts

How many times have you been on a long ride, racking up tons of kilometres, but after the ride you feel like you haven’t seen a thing, and maybe you even feel a little disappointed. One of the reasons for this, at least in my case, is lack of proper planning.

Research can be a daunting, time-consuming task. You find places that are worthy of a visit and scratch the ones that sound kind of lame, only to find out later that a discarded location could have been a highlight of your trip. You really don’t know the best places unless you’ve been there, or if you are with a knowledgeable guide.

Earlier this year, I participated in an organized tour hosted by Vancouver-based Mid-life Crisis Tours. The “Canyonlands” tour began and ended in Las Vegas and looped around to various sights including state and national parks in Nevada, Utah and Arizona. All I had to do was show up and ride. No messy research necessary, since the tour company had already done the legwork to show the very best that a location had to offer. As an added bonus, I met some fantastic people on the tour with common interests in riding and taking in some amazing scenery.

Day 1: Las Vegas to Zion National Park

Jody Evans and Dave Blane, owners of Mid-life Crisis Tours, met us in the lobby of the Orleans Hotel and Casino on the morning of departure day and gave us a quick and professional briefing on riding protocol, safety and what we could expect during the next nine days. Both guys were easygoing and made us feel welcome from our very first meeting.

We mounted our bikes and rode out of Vegas on schedule to our first stop. I’ve been to Vegas before, and while many people love the hustle and bustle of the city of perpetual lights, it isn’t for me. I was, therefore, pleasantly surprised that a short ride of just over an hour put us well outside the city and in the Valley of Fire State Park. Colin Tremblay, driver of the support vehicle and all-around great guy, had planned ahead and prepared a picnic lunch for us, saving valuable riding time. He was diligent in arriving at a designated picnic location ahead of the riders and would have lunch ready when we arrived. Every day our lunch choices varied, and we never tired of the variety we were offered.

Geckos ran across our path during a walk in the desert sand between red sandstone formations where 3,000-year-old native petroglyphs are still visible. The stark beauty of the Mojave Desert is astounding, but I was told this was just the beginning and that there would be more magnificent vistas yet to come.

The 2012 Gold Wing I was riding is an awesome mount for lengthy highway travel, but the temperature was hovering in the 37°C (99°F) range and without a cloud in the sky, there was no reprieve from the blazing sun behind the big windshield. It was hot, but I knew there would be much cooler days ahead once we reached higher altitudes.

Our first day of riding ended at around 5 p.m. at the edge of Zion National Park at Zion Park Inn. With time to lounge around the pool, I took advantage of the downtime and got to know the other members of the tour.

There were Terry and Lori travelling on their Kawasaki Voyager; Scott and Pat aboard their Harley bagger; Jean-Guy and Hildegard on another Harley FLH; Ross riding solo on his Heritage Softail; Susan riding with Dave on their Kawasaki Voyager; and Jody taking the lead aboard his Yamaha Stratoliner. Dave owns and operates a trucking company, so he transferred everyone’s bikes, allowing the riders to fly in at their leisure. That’s one of the advantages of shipping your bike – you can save a week’s worth of holidays and can use the extra time to explore new areas.

Day 2: Zion to Capitol Reef National Park

The next morning we entered Zion National Park, and soon we were zigzagging on switchbacks beside towering walls of red rock as we scaled Bridge Mountain, the road eventually leading us to a 1.7-kilometre tunnel. Blasted through the mountain in 1930, I find it amazing that with just dynamite, rudimentary machinery of the day and sheer manpower, a feat like this could be accomplished. Periodically, we would pass by large holes created to provide light in the tunnel.

After Zion, we were in Bryce Canyon National Park looking down on thousands of hoodoos, which are created when softer sandstone is washed away, leaving behind the harder rock that eventually forms vertical towers. The vast number of these sentinels keeping watch over the canyon far below is incredible.

The temperature was down to 12°C (54°F) with very high winds when we stopped at the Grand Staircase overlook at an elevation of 2255 metres (7400 ft.). The winds were so high, in fact, that two bikes were caught just in time before they blew over in the parking area. A far cry from the temperatures of two days prior in the Valley of Fire.

Our day ended at the Capitol Reef Best Western. That evening’s dinner was in the neighbouring town of Torrey at Café Diablo. The establishment sported hundreds of devil masks throughout, and the food, along with its presentation, was the culinary highlight of the whole ride. Our server handmade all of the desserts, including the ice cream. One of the crew, who asked to remain anonymous, said, “The only thing wrong with this place is that now I have to go home and eat my wife’s cooking.”

Day 3: Capitol Reef to Moab, Utah

Day three began with a short but chilly 5°C (41°F) ride to Goblin State Park. The park is small, just a little square on the state map, but what it lacks in size it makes up in content. As in much of the Southwest, softer sandstone is washed away, in this case from an ancient sea, leaving the harder Entrada sandstone boulders balanced precariously high atop fragile sandstone spires. Many of the heavier, odd-shaped rocks, fallen off their perches over the millennia, look like scattered goblins.

The landscape was noticeably changing from red sandstone to sheer red cliffs, and to add some contrast, there were 10- to 30-metre, lunar-looking, rolling grey hills that looked like wrinkled elephant skin. Then in no time we passed through a massive desert. Windstorms had created sand drifts that blocked parts of the highway. There was a bulldozer, half covered in sand, waiting silently for an operator who would move the sand back to its rightful location.

Before reaching our day’s destination of the Red Cliffs Lodge just outside of Moab, Utah, we stopped at various look-offs created over millions of years of erosion by the rivers far below, and we played hopscotch with the Colorado River. On one stretch of Highway 191, we rode amongst 300-metre cliffs on both sides; it’s just the road and the river in the canyon, while off in the distance are the jagged, snow-capped mountains of the La Sal Range.

Red Cliffs Lodge, sandwiched between Scenic Byway 128 and the Colorado River, would be our home for the next two days. Before we called it quits for the day, Jody and I ventured out on our own and rode the 100 km La Sal Mountain loop. Starting in low lands, we quickly climbed to snow-covered peaks on blind, hairpin corners. Signs warn of free-range livestock, and on one particular blind corner, a herd of cows blocked the road; Jody almost bagged himself a freezer full of beef, and I almost cleaned out the back end of a Stratoliner . . . (READ MORE)