The plan? Escape the late-summer heat, chase fall colors, and cover about 2,900 miles—mostly on dirt. Things didn’t always go according to plan, but that’s why we call it adventure. We explored new roads from low desert to alpine heights and back again, fueled by a steady diet of frozen burritos and a thirst for the unknown. Here’s how it went down.

Days 1-2: San Diego to Chino Valley, AZ – 400 Miles

We kicked off with a simple rhythm: ride, find shade, drink water, ride, eat, sleep, repeat. Leaving San Diego behind, we rolled through Blythe, CA, where we ditched the declining Best Western for a Hampton Inn. They hooked us up with a hot breakfast and bananas with little inspirational messages—cute, right? In Chino Valley, AZ, the Days Inn was fine, nothing fancy. Hotels everywhere had signs boasting about their COVID-era cleaning, but the maskless maids told a different story. Dinner? Frozen burritos from the grocery store. We weren’t risking restaurants this trip.

Day 3: Chino Valley to Page, AZ – 220 Miles

North on Hwy 89, then east on dirt Cr-71 near a cement plant, we hit a rocky stretch across high plains that climbed 2,500 feet into pine country. After Williams, we dipped into Coconino National Forest on sweet one-lane roads through the trees, skirted Flagstaff via rocky Shultz Pass Road, and rolled through a big burn area before hitting US 89 to Page. The Rodeway Inn there was adequate, though the missing smoke detector above the bed was a nice touch. Grocery store across the street? Perfect for burrito restocking.

Day 4: Page, AZ to Escalante, UT – 190 Miles (Should’ve Been 115)

This day tested us. From Page, we took Smokey Mountain Road toward Croton Road and Left Hand Collett, aiming for Hole-in-the-Rock. It started fast and wide through badlands and buttes, but recent rains had chewed up the edges. Croton got rough fast—steep, sketchy climbs and a bash plate’s best friend. Then it dropped into a canyon with a creek we’d have to cross repeatedly. With heat rising and no one around, I weighed the risks: washed-out tracks, low gas, low water, and the Mrs Knobby Corollary #1—If we die in the desert, The Hubby will never forgive me. We backtracked 40 miles to the highway, re-routed via Cottonwood Canyon Road (a prettier, easier ride), and landed in Escalante at the Prospector Inn. The mattress was a spring-loaded torture device—bath towels saved my back.

Day 5: Escalante to Bullfrog, UT – 125 Miles

Hells Backbone Road took us north into the mountains—washboarded but doable. We detoured to pretty Posey Lake, looped around a massive canyon, and crossed the famous bridge at its head. Burr Trail led us south to Notom Road, where Big Thompson Mesa Road got rough but delivered killer views near Brimhall Arch. Playing it safe (Mrs Knobby Corollary #1 again), we backtracked to Bullfrog Road and rolled into Lake Powell’s Rec Area. The Defiance House Lodge was nice but pricey—especially after buying passes we didn’t need. Sidewalks were well-watered, though.

Day 6: Bullfrog to Blanding, UT – 160 Miles (Should’ve Been 135)

Morning panic: the gas pump wouldn’t work. A trucker saved us by proving it was just my pump. Then, the ferry to cross Lake Powell wasn’t running—lesson learned: check schedules daily. We re-routed north on UT276 and UT95, skipping dirt Red Canyon and Radium King Roads. Fry Canyon’s Indian ruins were a highlight—tucked under an overhang, accessed by a sandy track. Fry Mesa Road climbed steeply to an old mine with views of Cheesebox Butte. In Blanding, the Super 8 smelled like curry in the lobby but had a big room—perfect for imaginary breakdancing.

Day 7: Blanding, UT to Cortez, CO – 155 Miles

North from Blanding, we climbed into Manti-La Sal National Forest, where fall colors exploded in the rain—Happy Happy Joy Joy! Dropping into the plains, we gassed up in Dove Creek (friendly dino included) and looped into San Juan National Forest. A lookout tower was a bust, but a fun two-track and a single-track detour kept things lively. In Cortez, the Best Western Turquoise Inn was quiet, with a weird courtyard layout.

Day 8: Cortez to Silverton, CO – 100 Miles

Highway northeast to Divide Road—a must-do if you haven’t. Smooth for seven miles, then rough and rutted, demanding peg time but rewarding with epic views. Lime Creek Road was a rocky slog—10 miles that felt like 20—but Andrews Lake was a gem. In Silverton, the Triangle Motel was dated but clutch: liquor store across the street, free ice, and solid pizza from the C-store.

Day 9: Silverton to Norwood, CO – 120 Miles

The plan was Lake City via Hurricane and Cinnamon Passes—old favorites from decades past. Hurricane started okay but turned into a steep, loose-rock nightmare at 11,800 feet. At 12,214 feet, we bailed—too many miles left to risk a tumble. Cinnamon was worse: a dusty zoo of side-by-sides and a sliding Subaru wagon. We retreated to Silverton, sour grapes in tow, and paved it to Norwood. The Hotel Norwood was comfy, no AC, and buggy without a window screen. The San Juans, once our playground, felt chewed up and crowded. Time to bid them farewell.

San Juan Reflections

Those mountains gave me my firsts: rocks, steep terrain, tough singletrack, water crossings, alpine tundra, elk, and meeting Malcolm Smith. From 1986 to 2006, we rode everything—Ophir, Black Bear, Engineer, you name it—with our fearless friend BP leading the charge. She planned it all with paper maps, no GPS, and zero cooking skills. Her ashes rest there now, a fitting end to her legend.

Day 10: Norwood, CO to Green River, UT – 165 Miles

Moab was packed, so we aimed for Green River. Hwy 145 to Naturita, then dirt into the La Sals past Buckeye Reservoir—a quiet climb through pines and basins. Moab’s chaos faded as we hit the old highway to Green River’s River Terrace Inn. Huge rooms, a toilet phone (why?), and a grocery store miles away. Solid spot.

Day 11: Green River to Price, UT – 117 Miles

Chimney Rock Road morphed from plains to gulches to buttes. A rough two-track up Little Cedar Mountain paid off with views of The Wedge and Manti-La Sal. Red Seep Road turned pink and overgrown, leading us to Cleveland Lloyd Dinosaur Quarry—free admission, score! In Price, the Legacy Inn was decent, with breakfast and a walkable grocery store.

Day 12: Price to Price – 120-Mile Loop

Whitmore Parks Road wandered through sage, hitting Nine Mile Canyon’s petroglyphs and homestead ruins. Cottonwood Canyon Road climbed a mesa past wild horses and microwave towers, dropping via silty switchbacks with old mining tramways. Back in Price, burritos awaited.

Day 13: Price to Manti – 118 Miles

West through sage and gas fields, the road twisted into canyons and hillsides with fall hints. Skyline Road was a dream—35 miles of ridge-top dirt with sheep and no crowds. Manti Country Village Motel was cozy, grocery store close.

Day 14: Manti to Cedar City – 175 Miles

A cold front killed our mountain plans. We paved it south, dodging burros and snapping quick pics. The Best Western in Cedar City was across from—you guessed it—a grocery store.

Day 15: Cedar City, UT to Caliente, NV – 130 Miles

Bumbleberry Springs Road climbed to 7,700 feet, then plunged into a steep, silty jeep trail—6 miles of relief when it ended. Pine Mountain Road wound through burns and sage to Clover Valley’s green fields and a restored LDS church. Along the UP RR tracks (totally legal, right?), we rode rough ballast and dark tunnels to Caliente’s Shady Motel. IPA to-go from the saloon capped it.

Day 16: Caliente to Boulder, NV – 166 Miles

South on NV317 through Elgin’s canyon, we took Carp & Rainbow Roads—50 lonely miles of rough desert to I-15. Lake Mead NRA was hot; we watered down and rolled into Boulder’s Sands Motel, a remodeled motor court perfect for burrito night.

Days 17-18: Boulder, NV to San Diego – 350 Miles

Pavement home: Mojave National Preserve’s dunes, then San Jacinto Mountains via Temecula. Heat skipped lunch, but home felt sweet.

Reflections

Three weeks, 2,900 miles, countless burritos. We saw new sights, ate on trails with views, and skipped restaurant hassles. The Hubby’s bike prep was flawless—no mechanicals. Best part? There’s still so much left to explore. Thanks for riding along.

The End.

The relentless California sun beat down on the asphalt as we pulled out of our driveway on July 14th, 2020. The rumble of our 2020 Suzuki DR-Z400s, loaded with our Wolfman Mini Beta Bags, felt like a promise – a promise of dust, of challenge, and of landscapes that would etch themselves into our memories forever. For months, the allure of the Continental and Great Pacific Divides had been a siren song, and now, the 5,845-mile, predominantly off-road journey was finally underway.

Our first day was a scorcher, the miles blurring into a haze of desert heat as we pushed towards Blythe. The BW SureStay Sahara offered a welcome respite, the air conditioning a temporary reprieve from the intensity of the Mojave. The next day, the terrain began its subtle shift as we climbed towards Flagstaff, the air thinning, the Joshua Trees giving way to ponderosa pines. The BW Pony Soldier provided a cozy haven after another long day in the saddle, the anticipation of the high country building with every mile.

Cortez, Colorado, marked our true entry into the Rockies. The Baymont by Wyndham was a comfortable stop after a day that hinted at the ruggedness to come. From there, the real magic began. The ride to Ouray was shorter in mileage, but the Million Dollar Highway lived up to its name. Jagged peaks clawed at the sky, waterfalls cascaded down rocky cliffs, and the air crackled with the energy of the mountains. The Ouray Chalet Inn, with its rustic charm, felt perfectly in tune with the dramatic surroundings.

The days that followed were a symphony of dirt and gravel. We navigated winding mountain passes, crossed crystal-clear streams, and marveled at vistas that stretched to the horizon. South Fork's Four Seasons Lodge was a welcome sight after a day of exhilarating climbs and descents. Salida's Silver Ridge Lodge offered a chance to resupply and connect with other adventurers, sharing stories of the road less traveled.

The ride to Aspen was legendary, the trails testing our skills and the scenery rewarding our efforts. The Tyrolean Lodge, with its European flair, felt like an unexpected oasis high in the Rockies. Georgetown, with its historic charm and the Georgetown Colorado Hotel, provided a glimpse into the mining heritage of the region.

As we pushed north towards Steamboat Springs, the landscape softened slightly, rolling hills and verdant valleys replacing the stark peaks. La Quinta offered a familiar comfort after another day of dust and adventure. Crossing into Wyoming felt significant, the vastness of the American West truly unfolding before us. Rawlins' Hampton Inn was a welcome stop after a long day battling the Wyoming winds.

Lander marked a turning point, the landscape taking on a more rugged, remote feel. The Rodeway Inn Pronghorn Lodge was a simple but appreciated shelter. Pinedale, nestled beneath the towering Wind River Range, was breathtaking. The Best Western offered a chance to rest and soak in the grandeur of the surrounding wilderness.

Crossing into Idaho brought a change in scenery once again, the forests becoming denser, the rivers teeming with life. Island Park's Sawtelle Mountain Resort was a perfect base to explore the volcanic landscapes and abundant wildlife. Salmon, Idaho, felt like a true mountain town, the Super 8 a no-frills stopover before our push further north into Montana.

Montana, "Big Sky Country," lived up to its name. The ride to Helena was long but rewarding, the vastness of the landscape humbling. Days Inn provided a familiar comfort. The journey to Seeley Lake was shorter but incredibly scenic, the crystal-clear lake reflecting the surrounding forests. The Seeley Lake Motor Lodge was a rustic retreat.

Libby, Montana, became a crucial stop. After thousands of hard-earned miles, our Suzuki DR-Z400s were due for some TLC. The Evergreen Motel was our temporary base as we spent a day at a local shop, replacing worn tires with fresh Dunlop D606 rears and Pirelli MT21 fronts, changing the oil, and cleaning the air filters. This dedicated maintenance ensured our trusty steeds were ready for the journey south.

With our bikes feeling refreshed, we turned our wheels towards the Great Pacific Divide. The landscape began its gradual shift towards the Pacific Northwest. Cheney, Washington, and the Holiday Inn Express marked our entry into the Evergreen State. Wenatchee, nestled in the heart of apple country, and the Best Western Chieftain offered a different kind of beauty, the orchards a stark contrast to the high-altitude forests.

The ride to Naches took us closer to the Cascade Mountains, the air growing cooler and carrying the scent of pine. Silver Beach Resort, nestled on a lake, was a tranquil oasis. Crossing into Oregon felt like another milestone. Government Camp, nestled at the base of Mount Hood, and the BW Mt Hood Inn provided stunning views of the majestic peak.

Sisters, Oregon, with its charming Western theme and the BW Ponderosa Lodge, was a delightful stop. The ride to Crescent Lake was stunning, the Willamette Pass Inn offering a rustic charm amidst the volcanic landscape. Ashland, with its vibrant arts scene and the BW Windsor Inn, felt like a taste of civilization after weeks on the trail.

Turning south into California once more, we felt a sense of the journey nearing its end, but the adventure was far from over. Weed, California, with the ever-present silhouette of Mount Shasta, and the Comfort Inn Mt Shasta Area provided iconic views. The ride to Mineral took us through the Lassen Volcanic National Park, a land of bubbling mud pots and steaming fumaroles, the Lassen Mineral Lodge a unique stop amidst this geothermal wonderland.

Truckee, nestled near Lake Tahoe, and the BW+ Truckee-Tahoe Hotel offered a glimpse of the Sierra Nevada's grandeur. Pollock Pines and the Westhaven Inn marked our descent into the foothills. Mariposa, the gateway to Yosemite, and the Miner’s Inn buzzed with the energy of park visitors.

The final stretch through California brought a mix of landscapes, from the agricultural heartland near Exeter and the Kaweah Motel to the stark beauty of the high desert near California City and the Best Western California City Inn. The last overnight stop in Banning, at the Hampton Inn & Suites, felt like the final exhale before reaching home.

The final day, a bittersweet 144-mile ride, brought us back to Southern California. As we pulled into our driveway, the familiar surroundings felt both comforting and somehow different, viewed through the lens of 5,845 miles of dirt, gravel, and breathtaking landscapes. Our Suzuki DR-Z400s, coated in a fine layer of dust, stood as proud testaments to our journey.

The Whispering Winds of the Divide had carried us through deserts, over mountains, and through forests. We had faced challenges – flat tires, unexpected detours, and the sheer physical demands of long days in the saddle. But we had also been rewarded with unparalleled beauty, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers (encountered along the way), and a profound connection to the vast and varied tapestry of the American West. This dual-sport odyssey was more than just a motorcycle trip; it was an immersion into the heartland of America, a testament to the enduring spirit of adventure, and a collection of memories that would forever echo in the whispering winds of the Divide.

Breaking Free on Two Wheels: A 2,800-Mile Dual-Sport Escape Through the Southwest

The arrival of COVID-19 had cast a strange pall over daily life in the summer of 2020. Yet, the vast open spaces of the American Southwest beckoned with an irresistible allure. State lines, thankfully, felt crossable without the threat of immediate quarantine, so we eagerly fired up our trusty Suzuki DR-Z400 motorcycles for a 19-day breakaway, a 2,800-mile loop through the diverse landscapes of Arizona, a grand tour of Utah's backcountry, and a taste of Nevada's stark beauty. New-to-us backroads, promising remoteness, emptiness, and untamed wilderness, were our compass: colorful deserts, lonely mountain ranges, and the iconic red rock vistas of the Colorado Plateau. This is the story of how we broke free from the confines of the pandemic and rediscovered the joy of the open trail.

Day 1: San Diego to Parker, AZ – 265 Miles

A scorching 120°F forecast had initially given us pause, the thought of Death Valley in that heat making us blanch. We finally launched when the temperature dipped to a (barely) survivable 111°F, climbing quickly to 4,000 feet west of Borrego Springs. The rapid changes in elevation meant layering up against the cooler mountain air only to shed those layers quickly as we descended into 100°F Borrego Springs. Our first tentative foray into public dining all year was at Pablito’s Mexican takeout. The masked waitress, the plastic cups, and the propped-open bathrooms felt cautiously safe, a small step back towards normalcy. The day's ride was predominantly on pavement, though spiced with enjoyable stretches of dirt roads and forgotten sections of old highway near Interstate 10. Our two 12-ounce thermoses filled with ice water proved to be absolute desert gold. Arriving in Parker, Arizona, we discovered that the boater-packed weekend had inflated hotel rates, but the Quality Inn ultimately sufficed for the night. Our dinner at the Crossroads Cafe provided a stark reminder of the varying attitudes towards the pandemic. Our unmasked, loud-talking waitress served a boisterous crowd of boaters at a large table who completely ignored the posted distancing signs. We, the naive Californians, were beginning to learn a valuable lesson: in some places, pandemic safety signs meant very little.

Day 2: Parker, AZ to Wikieup, AZ – 180 Miles

The complimentary hotel breakfast was a dismal affair – a single muffin, an apple, and that was it. We quickly supplemented our meager start with nuts and snacks before hitting Shea Road east, zigzagging our way towards the legendary Planet Ranch. The initial gravel road gradually deepened into a rocky track. Our planned crossing of the Bill Williams River was thwarted by a formidable 10-padlock gate, the river's depth an unknown and potentially risky variable. The ruins of Planet Ranch taunted us from across the barrier. A significant 70-mile detour became necessary, looping us back through Parker before heading north on Highway 95 and then east on Interstate 40. Our lunchtime stop at the Parker Dam Diner was another eye-opening experience. The 70-plus crowd, including the 80-something owner who freely chatted mid-room, seemed to completely disregard any notion of being "vulnerable." Even a "closed" sign on the bathroom turned out to be a ruse to hide a lack of toilet paper – a bizarre discovery. We finally turned southeast onto the dirt Alamo Road, passing numerous beehives, before tackling Chicken Springs Road. This delightful track wound through a Joshua Tree forest, climbing steadily to 4,000 feet. Our lodging for the night was the lone motel in Wikieup – four simple rooms tucked behind a gas station, but surprisingly decent. Leftovers from a maskless pizza joint were carefully iced down for a quick breakfast the next morning.

Day 3: Wikieup, AZ to Kingman, AZ – 100 Miles

Sycamore Creek, a location that had long been on our bucket list, finally came into view and it truly shone. We headed south briefly on Highway 93 before turning east onto Burro Creek Crossing Road. This track climbed steadily, becoming increasingly rough, narrow, and filled with rocky washouts. We encountered a cattle guard strangely adorned with rope and plastic bags, the purpose of which remained a mystery. The lone ranch on Goodwin Mesa required us to carefully navigate through a lot filled with curious bulls, but a friendly nod from a passing horsewoman kept us rolling. A surprisingly fast, bladed dirt road then took us up to 5,600 feet, offering sprawling vistas and remarkably few signs of civilization – we spotted only three houses in the span of 40 miles. Cane Springs Road proved to be an exhilarating rollercoaster of ridges as it wound through the Hualapai Mountains, and we didn't encounter a single other vehicle all day. Our arrival in Kingman led us to Denny’s for dinner, where we observed an elderly gentleman casually sporting a holstered handgun. Our lodging for the night was the Best Western Wayfarer’s Inn, a comfortable respite. Dinner at a local Mexican restaurant once again highlighted the varying levels of pandemic awareness, as tables filled with families, including young children and grandparents, seemingly without a care for distancing.

Day 4: Kingman to Flagstaff, AZ – 230 Miles

A hot breakfast at the hotel fueled us for the initial stretch of pavement through the Hualapai foothills. Soon, we turned south onto dirt roads paralleling Interstate 40, enjoying the nostalgic vibes of forgotten sections of old highway. To the north, vast cattle ranches stretched out, seemingly empty and serene. Our planned route along Route 66 through the Hualapai Reservation was unexpectedly blocked – roads were closed, and outsiders were barred, a stark reminder of the tribal lands' sovereignty during these uncertain times. We found lunch in Seligman at the Westside Cafe, where a motorized bicycle enthusiast nearly clipped me as he zipped past. The rocky forest roads around Ash Fork, remnants of old quarry operations, gradually smoothed out as we approached Williams. We then picked up the historic Beale Wagon Road, enjoying the views of the majestic San Francisco Peaks as the track transitioned into rocky, gated two-tracks, occasionally spooking elk that darted into the surrounding forest. Late in the day, our initial doubts about the route faded as we found a better road leading us into Flagstaff and the Best Western Pony Soldier Inn. While corporate mask mandates and plexiglass barriers were present, their effectiveness felt somewhat diminished. We opted for the reliable comfort of Golden Dragon takeout for dinner, a choice that never disappoints.

Day 5: Flagstaff to Page, AZ – 160 Miles

The pre-cooked omelets offered at the hotel breakfast were a source of amusement – why weren't these convenient options more widespread? Highway 180, winding through forest and range, was punctuated by stretches of construction. Thankfully, a network of empty dirt roads offered stunning views of distant peaks, intriguing cinder cones, and ancient lava flows. Our planned lunch stop in Cameron turned into a gas-only affair as the local cafes were closed, and we were greeted by a pack of rather menacing, demon-chasing dogs. The slog along Highway 89 felt long and monotonous, so we were relieved to turn onto Copper Mine Road, which offered quieter scenery and a more enjoyable ride. Our Best Western in Page overlooked the Colorado River, providing a picturesque backdrop. Dinner at a local Mexican restaurant took an unexpected turn when our waiter seemingly vanished mid-service, leading to a brief staff-wide hunt for our check.

Day 6: Page, AZ to Escalante, UT – 120 Miles

The hotel's apple and muffin breakfast was once again underwhelming. Our attempt to grab a quick bite at the McDonald’s drive-thru proved futile as they refused service to walk-ups. This necessitated a comical bike shuffle and curbside coffee kludge to get our morning caffeine fix. We soon found ourselves on Cottonwood Canyon Road, a delightful dirt track that traversed rolling desert hills before dropping down to offer breathtaking pink-hued views of the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument along the Paria River. Our gas and lunch stop in Tropic was a bustling scene of carefree families seemingly unfazed by the ongoing pandemic. Our lodging in Escalante at the Circle D Motel was rather run-down, a mental note made to try the Prospector Inn on any future visits. Dinner and drinks at a local establishment involved a casual disregard for mask-wearing and only a loose interpretation of social distancing.

Day 7: Escalante to Hanksville, UT – 155 Miles

A blissful breakfast of egg bagels enjoyed on a sunny patio provided the perfect start to our day before we hopped onto Highway 12 and then the scenic Burr Trail. A spontaneous detour onto a sandy two-track led us to the discovery of three impressive natural arches, a worthwhile unplanned adventure. The colors of the landscape intensified as we followed Notom Road, which gradually paved its way out of Capitol Reef National Park. We then ventured onto Eggnog Star Road (the unusual name prompting much speculation) and Hoskinnini Road, which climbed over rough terrain towards a gap in the Mount Hillers range. The landscape here bore the scars of past wildfires, and we noted fenced-off springs. One particularly steep pitch tested our low-speed riding skills. A small creek eventually led us to Lone Cedar Road and the intriguing Little Egypt Hoodoos. Unfortunately, the combination of strong winds and intense heat limited our time for photography. We finally arrived in Hanksville, greeted by swirling dust clouds, and checked into the Whispering Sands Motel before finding some much-needed solitude at Duke’s Slickrock Grill for dinner.

Day 8: Hanksville to Green River, UT – 100 Miles (90% Dirt)

Microwaved burritos provided a quick and unconventional breakfast before we headed north on Utah Highway 24 to Blackburn Wash Road. This section was a pure delight for off-road enthusiasts, with 30 miles of empty, sandy two-tracks rolling past stunning canyons and dramatic ridges. We eventually connected with Lower San Rafael Road, which offered breathtaking views of the Canyonlands Overlook. A strong 45 mph tailwind initially stalled our airflow, making for a hot ride, but later, gusting crosswinds whipped up swirling dust devils that danced across the landscape. The overlooks of the Green River were truly awe-inspiring. Our attempt to have lunch with a view was thwarted by the relentless wind, forcing us to seek shelter behind large boulders – a largely futile effort. Our lodging for the night was the Comfort Inn, where we experienced a brief moment of panic over a nail found dangerously close to a tire. Dinner at the Tamarisk Restaurant, with its soothing view of the Green River, helped to calm our nerves.

Day 9: Green River to Price, UT – 125 Miles

An old state highway took us on a scenic descent through a rugged badlands landscape, characterized by numerous RV-sized rocks scattered along the roadside. We then connected with the Hatts Ranch Bypass, a wonderfully empty track that hugged the base of uplifted rock walls, feeling like our own private passage through this dramatic terrain. The sandy two-track of Tidwell Bottoms provided a moment of unexpected amusement when we startled a camper in a rather vulnerable position mid-morning constitutional. The jeep road through Black Dragon Canyon was a visual feast, dipping in and out of the canyon with steep, loose climbs, sandy stretches, and stunning rock formations at every turn. We passed the ancient pictographs along Buckhorn Draw Road before arriving in Huntington, where Lamy’s overflowing burritos provided a hearty lunch that carried us to our lodging for the night at the Legacy Inn in Price. Dinner at JB’s Restaurant offered another example of a local establishment seemingly unfazed by pandemic protocols.

Day 10: Price to Ferron, UT – 130 Miles

The waffle-making station at the hotel breakfast remained untouched as we opted to enjoy our own supplies in the room. Our first point of interest for the day was the Slovenian cemetery in Spring Glen, a poignant reminder of the area's coal mining history and a surprising twist involving KKK land ownership that piqued my ancestral curiosity. We passed numerous idle railcars, a stark visual representation of an oil glut. A particularly steep and slick creek crossing provided a brief but challenging obstacle, spraying gravel in our wake. We encountered a local cattle roundup, which caused a brief delay. Soon, the expansive vistas of Horse Bench opened up before us. A washed-out shelf road presented a moment of decision – Hubby confidently charged across, and I, with a moment of hesitation, followed suit. Lunch enjoyed on the sidewalk outside a Subway in Castle Dale led us to the impressive Red Ledges Arch, which we reached via sandy washes and rocky rolls, marveling at the fact that this natural span was indeed drivable. Our final destination for the day was Ferron, where the delicious pizza from Gilly’s Big Mtn Motel provided a satisfying end to another adventurous day.

Day 11: Ferron to Hanksville, UT

Our backroads route south took us past the windy pictographs near Moore, a quick gas stop in Emery, and then onto Miller’s Canyon Road, which led us into the vast expanse of the Last Chance Desert, a landscape of dramatic mesas and surprisingly abundant dripping springs. We then tackled Caineville Wash Road within Capitol Reef National Park, a relentless battle against deep, rutted silt that tested our riding skills. We were particularly impressed by a group of young bicyclist kids who were bravely soldiering on through the challenging conditions. The immense basin of the Red Desert inspired awe, but as we approached Blue Valley, the eerie silence of a ghost cemetery seemed to stare directly at a massive dust wall being kicked up by the wind near Steamboat Point. Discretion being the better part of valor, we made a strategic retreat. Our dinner in Hanksville at Stan’s Burger Shack was somewhat overshadowed by the sullen demeanor of the mop-wielding employee.

Day 12: Hanksville to Torrey, UT – 100 Miles

We started our day with trusty burritos before venturing into the Henry Mountains, a dramatic transition from wide-open desert to narrow, rough climbs, numerous creek crossings, and fragrant pine forests. The descent from Wikiup Pass along Copper Ridge Road was steep and rocky, offering stunning panoramic views of Capitol Reef National Park. An enticing jeep trail through Oak Creek Canyon quickly turned technically challenging, prompting a wise retreat after observing a 4Runner struggling with the terrain. A peculiar scorpion carving on a cemetery headstone in Notom sparked our curiosity. We finally arrived in Torrey, where the delicious fajitas at La Cueva and the welcoming atmosphere of Austin’s Chuckwagon Lodge provided a perfect end to the day.

Day 13: Torrey to Richfield, UT – 125 Miles

Fish Hatchery Road took us onto the open plains of the Big Rocks Off-Highway Vehicle area before dropping us down to the small town of Koosharem for a gas stop. A scenic backroad near Burrville then climbed into the beautiful Fishlake National Forest. The rutted track leading to Rex Reservoir proved to be worth the effort, rewarding us with stunning views of the lake and surrounding wilderness. Lunch in Salina at El Mexicano was a lively affair, filled with families and individuals sporting traditional cowboy attire. Our final destination for the day was Richfield, where our dinner at the Quality Inn unfortunately flopped, requiring a redo of undercooked chicken.

Day 14: Richfield to Panguitch, UT – 105 Miles

The charming Scandinavian cemetery in Elsinore provided an unexpected point of interest. We then turned south onto dirt roads weaving through the foothills south of Monroe. The hilltop graves in Marysvale and the track following the Sevier River led us to a gas stop in Junction. Just outside Circleville, our luck took a turn for the worse when a junk-strewn section of road resulted in a flat tire on my DR-Z. Thankfully, the kindness of a local farmer, who offered the shade of his barn, and Mr. Knobby's adept tire-changing skills saved the day. Lunch at a local cafe, rumored to be run by members of a polygamist community, fueled our climb along a rocky section of the Fremont Trail. The ascent took us through beautiful 9,000-foot aspen groves before a loose and challenging descent. Our lodging for the night was the somewhat dilapidated Purple Sage Motel in Panguitch, and dinner at Kenny Rays involved an unusual employee-only salad bar arrangement.

Day 15: Panguitch, UT to Mesquite, NV – 200 Miles

The morning began with tire-related chores – propping the wheel and wrestling with the axle (a task that always feels a bit wimpy on my part). Wildfires had unfortunately closed access to the Grand Canyon, so our route took us east through the rolling green valleys near Alton. A patio lunch in Kanab at Nedras provided a pleasant break before a long, hot slog on the pavement. Frequent water douses were essential to maintain sanity in the desert heat. We finally arrived in Mesquite, Nevada, ready for some air conditioning.

Day 16: Mesquite to West Las Vegas, NV – 140 Miles

An early start saw us paralleling Interstate 15 through the foothills before stopping for drinks in Moapa. Mormon Wells Road, a relentlessly rocky two-track, took us over 6,500 feet. While remote and challenging, the stunning scenery made it a worthwhile, albeit once-in-a-lifetime, experience. We eventually rejoined Highway 95 and then a beltway, easing our way to a welcome Mexican grill for lunch. An unexpected encounter with a friendly van-dweller, who dubbed me the "hardest looking woman" he’d ever seen, earned me some unexpected dual-sport granny cred. Our lodging at the Hampton Red Rock Inn was a delight, as was the nearby Mexican dinner.

Day 17: Las Vegas to Big Bear, CA – 230 Miles

We started our day with a scenic ride through the colorful landscapes of the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, dodging the worst of the desert heat. Potosi Pass Road offered a change of pace, its initial gravel surface giving way to a rougher track filled with wash rocks that nearly sent me tumbling. A tempting detour along Kingston Road's powerline access road was noted for a future adventure. The transition from the sandy desert near Sandy Valley back to pavement led us to the somewhat dated Best Western Plus Chateau in Big Bear Lake. Even a simple transaction at Sizzler involved a cashier struggling to hear through a thick plastic barrier.

Day 18: Big Bear to Idyllwild, CA – 120 Miles

Our route began with Sand Canyon and Wildhorse Meadow Roads, a delightful pair of tracks that wound through the rock-strewn forest, offering glimpses of the surrounding wilderness. The off-road sections were a welcome change from the previous day's pavement, and the crisp mountain air invigorated us. Eventually, these trails deposited us onto Highway 38, a ribbon of asphalt known for its engaging twists and turns as it snaked through the San Bernardino National Forest.

The ride along Highway 38 was exhilarating, the DR-Zs handling the curves with their familiar agility. The scenery was classic Southern California mountain landscape – towering pines, granite outcroppings, and sweeping views of the valleys below. We stopped for a satisfying lunch at a cafe in Beaumont, refueling ourselves for the next leg of our journey.

From Beaumont, we hopped onto Highway 243, a truly spectacular 25-mile swoop that climbed and descended dramatically as it led us towards Idyllwild. This stretch of road is a favorite among motorcyclists, and for good reason, offering a thrilling combination of tight corners and breathtaking vistas.

Arriving in Idyllwild, a charming mountain town known for its artistic community and natural beauty, we consulted our maps for our planned lodging. We located the Bunkhouse, its rustic exterior promising a cozy mountain retreat. Upon closer inspection, the Bunkhouse's rustic charm quickly faded. The interior revealed a dated and poorly maintained space. A closer look, unfortunately, revealed signs of a significant termite infestation. Despite the lodging letdown, the scenic ride through the mountains to Idyllwild had been a highlight of the day, a reminder of the beautiful landscapes that Southern California has to offer.

Day 19: Idyllwild to San Diego – The Final Miles Home

Waking in the less-than-charming Bunkhouse, the anticipation of returning home overshadowed any lingering discomfort. After a quick cup of coffee, we packed the bikes, eager to hit the road for the final leg of our 2,800-mile adventure.

Highway 74, winding through the twisty valleys east of Idyllwild, greeted us with its familiar Southern California landscape. Patches of construction slowed our progress at times, a stark contrast to the empty backroads we had become accustomed to. Yet, there was a certain comfort in these familiar surroundings, a sense of the journey drawing to a satisfying close.

The ride was a medley of memories flashing through our minds – the red rocks of Utah, the vast emptiness of the Nevada desert, the challenging climbs and descents of the Arizona mountains. Each curve in the road seemed to echo a moment from the past nineteen days. We recounted favorite vistas, unexpected encounters, and the sheer joy of navigating challenging terrain on our trusty DR-Zs.

Lunch was a casual affair at a roadside cafe as we descended from the mountains, the air growing warmer with each mile. The conversation revolved around the highlights of the trip, the new roads we had discovered, and the satisfying feeling of checking off long-held bucket-list destinations. There was a shared sense of accomplishment, a quiet pride in having navigated many miles of diverse and often demanding terrain.

As we neared San Diego, the familiar landmarks began to appear – the distant glint of the Pacific Ocean, the characteristic scrub brush of the coastal hills. A sense of homecoming washed over us, a feeling of contentment after our extended breakaway.

The final miles were a smooth cruise, the DR-Zs feeling like extensions of ourselves after so many days in the saddle. Pulling into our driveway, the familiar sight of our home brought a wave of relief and happiness. The bikes, coated in a fine layer of dust, stood as proud symbols of our journey, silent witnesses to the freedom and adventure we had embraced.

Unloading the bikes was a task filled with reminiscing. Each piece of gear, each speck of dirt, held a story. The maps, now creased and marked, were tangible reminders of the paths we had traveled.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over our neighborhood, we sat on our porch, a sense of deep satisfaction settling in. The 2,800-mile escape had been more than just a motorcycle trip; it had been a vital reset, a chance to reconnect with the open road and the beauty of the Southwest during a time of global uncertainty. The bears of our adventurous spirits had been unleashed, and despite the continued weirdness of the world, we had roamed happy, our souls refreshed by the miles of freedom.

Let’s say you’re looking at your map in Google My Maps, but it feels a bit small, and you want to see it bigger. Here’s how you can do that:

1. Look for the Expand Option: When you’re viewing your map, check the top-right corner of the map area. You might see a little square icon with an arrow pointing outward (it looks like it’s trying to stretch). Click that. This makes the map fill your whole screen or at least a larger part of it.

2. Open in Google Maps (Alternative): If you’re previewing your custom map and see a link or button that says 'View in Google Maps' or 'Open in Maps,' click it. This takes your map to the full Google Maps website or app, where it’s bigger and easier to explore.

3. Zoom and Adjust: Once it’s larger, you can use your mouse wheel to zoom in or out, or drag the map around to see more details.

That’s it! You’re just telling the map to take up more space so you can see everything better.

This works whether they’re on a computer or a phone, though the exact buttons might look slightly different. If they’re stuck, they can also hit the 'Preview' button in Google My Maps to see it in a cleaner, larger layout.

How to Export a Track from Google My Maps

1. Open Your Map

   • Go to Google My Maps on your computer and sign in.

   • Select the map containing the track (e.g., a line or route you’ve drawn).

2. Identify the Track

   • In the left panel, find the layer with the line or route you want to export. This could be something you drew manually using the "Draw a line" tool (the squiggly line icon) or imported from a file.

   • If it’s not already a line, you’ll need to have drawn it as one (e.g., a path between points).

3. Export the Map or Layer to KML/KMZ

   • Click the three-dot menu next to the map title (at the top of the left panel).

   • Select "Export to KML/KMZ".

   • A dialog box will appear. Check the box if you want to export only a specific layer (e.g., the one with your track), or leave it unchecked to export the entire map.

   • Choose KML (for broader compatibility) or KMZ (a compressed version of KML).

   • Click Download. This saves the file to your computer.

4. Verify the File

   • Open the KML/KMZ file in a program like Google Earth to confirm your track (the line) is included. It’ll appear as a path or shape you can view.

5. Convert to a Track Format (Optional)

   • If you need a true "track" format like GPX (common for GPS devices or apps), use a third-party tool:

     • Online Converters: Sites like GPS Visualizer or MyGeodata Converter let you upload the KML/KMZ file and convert it to GPX.

     • Steps: Upload the file, select GPX as the output format, and download the converted file.

   • Alternatively, software like QGIS or Garmin BaseCamp can also handle this conversion.

6. Use Your Track

   • Once you have the file (KML/KMZ or GPX), you can import it into a GPS device, a mapping app (e.g., Gaia GPS, AllTrails), or another platform that supports tracks.

Notes

• What’s a Track?: In this context, a "track" is typically a recorded path with timestamps (like from a GPS device). Google My Maps doesn’t record timestamps, so your exported line is more of a static route. Converting to GPX might add basic track-like properties, but it won’t include speed or time data unless you add that elsewhere.

• Limitations: Google My Maps excels at static maps, not dynamic tracking. If you meant exporting a track from Google Maps Timeline (your location history), that’s a different process involving Google Takeout, which I can explain if needed!

• Drawing a Route: If you haven’t made the track yet, use the "Draw a line" tool in Google My Maps to trace your path, then follow the steps above.