May 9, 2024 - Canyonlands and Arches
With about 10 minutes until sunset and the sky changing colors, I decided to quickly hop on the Harley Davidson and pull away from the parking lot for Turret Arch, The Windows, and Double Arch in Arches National Park in search of a better vantage point. I rumbled out of the parking lot and ripped around the corners of the smooth and curvy road entirely too quickly while chasing this sunset on my second visit to this famous park that's home to some 2,000 natural rock arches of various sizes. Chasing a sunset or sunrise is a good way to test your ability to stay calm and rational in a time crunch and for me, I always lose my head.
I pulled into the parking lot for Balanced Rock, parked, and then sprinted up the trail while soft golden light caused the monolith to glow red, but only for maybe a minute before the sun vanished behind clouds, taking the color with it. I felt frustrated, like I had been cheated out of a splendid natural gift because I didn't get to see a nuclear sunset like I had hoped. Regardless, I climbed onto Balanced Rock and photographed the landscape from an elevated view, wishing I had been in this spot only a few minutes before. Eventually, I calmly walked back to the parking lot where my friends were waiting for me. We then rode out of the park at twilight, all the while marveling at the fact I could ride a powerful motorcycle here. In the intercom we discussed whether there were any national parks with a better entrance road from the visitor center than the one in Arches. However, if Edward Abbey had his way, there would be no visitor center or paved roads in the park, and certainly no roads that carried travelers so far or so close to incredible formations.
We stayed in Moab for two nights in a hotel in the northern part of town that had all of your usual hotel amenities, including laundry facilities. We took this opportunity to do laundry after several straight days of riding through desert, hiking, sweating, and the like. So, it was nice to have a break, and also to walk to and from the laundry room one evening wearing only shorts and sandals even when passing the front lobby.
Moab is similar to Bishop. It has a relatively small population at just over 5,000, sits just above 4,000 feet in elevation in eastern Utah, and is the gateway to droolworthy outdoor recreation. It's perhaps best known for its proximity to Canyonlands National Park and Arches National Park and all of the sandstone canyons, arches, and natural bridges within them. The town is just south of the Colorado River and is part of a stunning natural landscape complete with tall and imposing sandstone cliffs in two directions. This was my second visit to the town and just like Bishop, the town of Moab itself is nothing special. It's little more than a tourist trap highway rest stop packed with chain restaurants and diners, hotels, your typical Main Street shops, and the like. The draw of Moab, of course, is the astonishing natural landscapes nearby. My first visit was on that January 2023 road trip during which I was forced to stay a third night in town at the Hyatt due to a snowstorm. With the highway partially closed that evening, I sat in the outdoor hot tub while snowflakes floated down from the night sky.
Our one full day in Moab was packed full of adventure. First on the agenda was a visit to Canyonlands National Park, a place I had tried to see twice before but failed because of snowstorms. On this day, however, the road was clear and the weather pleasant with cool temperatures and sunny skies dotted with fluffy, pleasing clouds. The third time was the charm. There were plenty of other vehicles on the road, but Canyonlands is decidedly less popular than Arches. Its highest visitation numbers came in at less than one million back in 2021, but that number has fallen to just north of 700,000 in 2025. My goal had always been to see Mesa Arch, an icon in the world of landscape photography and an immensely popular attraction that draws hoards of tourists from all over the world. This wide sandstone arch clings to the side of a steep cliff and provides expansive views of countless acres of canyons as well as the distant La Sal Mountains.
Pictures don't do Mesa Arch justice. Visitors use a parking lot in the Island in the Sky district and must walk to the arch. It's not a long walk or a particularly difficult one, so the arch can indeed attract crowds of people. I gasped when I first laid my own eyes on it. Along with seeing the presence of blooming wildflowers, I felt pure joy and laughed out loud. Laughing is how I process seeing larger-than-life landscapes with my own eyes; it's happened at places like the Grand Canyon, Zion National Park, Fiordland National Park, and others. I separated from my friends and walked along the cliff edge to put some distance between myself and the crowd of tourists to get some silence, and then sat down. I could have sat in that cliff-side spot forever, greedily drinking in the views. Eventually, I rejoined my friends. Once we got back on the bikes and rode back to Moab for an afternoon nap, I thanked them for being part of this trip and helping make it that much more fun.
After the nap, we fired up the metal horses once again, this time to explore State Route 128, a national scenic byway that runs along the Colorado River northeast of Moab in a deep canyon. I had driven this road in the Camry twice on my previous visit to Moab; on a motorcycle it was even more of a thrill because the canyon walls make the roar of the Road King engine echo. Riding through that canyon gives you a sense of peace and contentment with the world. There were plenty of stops to take pictures, especially since the clouds in the sky were developing into bigger and more interesting shapes. It made me wonder whether we were in for a colorful sunset. The clouds also diffused the sunlight in a pretty way, and patches of it would illuminate the massive red buttes and mesas around us.
Our turnaround point was Castle Valley. On my previous visit to Castle Valley, there was a blanket of fresh snow on the ground. This time it was completely dry, so I got to see the formations in their full glory. And this is where I got another portrait of myself that will be difficult to beat because it makes me look a lot cooler than I actually am.
May 10, 2024 - Moab to Sedona
I shed tears tonight after removing myself from the hot tub at the Hilton inn in Sedona. Emotion bubbled up after I thought about the adventures over the past week in four different states on a motorcycle. These were tears of gratitude for being able to experience such a wonderful adventure. This had been unquestionably one of the greatest weeks of my life, full of laughter, wonder, fun, thrill, epic landscapes, great food and excellent company.
Today we rode from Moab to Sedona, a trek of roughly 360 miles. We all thought it would be a difficult, physically demanding day, but my body feels fine as I write this in my bed save for a slightly stiff back. We rode south from Moab, retracing our route on 191 but this time we stopped at Wilson Arch to take some photos. We also took a different route that bypassed Monument Valley and instead approached Kayenta from the east. It was a relaxing, peaceful ride devoid of traffic. We ate lunch in Kayenta at a Navajo-owned restaurant and I ordered a Navajo taco.
We had a close call near Tuba City, AZ that reminded me of the accident we witnessed a few years ago on a different ride in Southern California. In Tuba City, we got stuck behind a large truck on a two-lane divided highway. My friends went to pass the truck with a curve and car approaching in the distance. They roared into the curve quite fast and with the car approaching, I was watching a game of chicken. I could hear one friend's protesting voice through the intercom laced with fear from coming so close to colliding with the car. There was no collision, but my friend was terrified and actually shrieked. A few moments later, he said he needed a break to calm down. Eventually, I was able to pass the truck as well after my friend slowed down and forced the truck to do the same, making it easy for me to make the pass.
To extend the day's struggles, my friend’s bike suffered a flat rear tire near Flagstaff. We stopped at a couple of gas stations to fill up the tire with air but because it wouldn't hold, we decided to find a motorcycle shop. We found one, and we limped to the shop, gingerly turning corners in heavy city traffic. Imagine our sighs of relief having made it to safety! The people at the shop were super friendly and were able to replace the tire in a couple of hours while we ate a meal at a Sonic across the street. The shop employees said great things about the ride into Sedona.
The approach into Sedona reminds me of Yosemite National Park due to the huge cliffs in the canyon. I burst out laughing a lot, and, perhaps a bit unwisely, looked around at anything else but the road while using only one hand on the handlebars. The road itself was wonderful, at one point descending a steep canyon using tight, windy curves. To ride a motorcycle on a road like this through epic landscapes is pure and total pleasure. It's ecstasy.
Before arriving in Sedona, I had heard of a hilltop called Airport Mesa for its wonderful views for landscape photography from a photography acquaintance who lives in Sedona. After settling in the hotel, we got back on the bikes and rode the short distance to Airport Mesa. The road narrowed and snaked up a mountainside, all while passing many vehicles parked on the side and dense groups of people watching the west. Finally, we reached flat ground at Airport Mesa and were greeted with a packed-to-the-brim parking lot and hundreds of spectators on the edge of the cliff, all watching for a colorful sunset with cameras in hand. Fortunately, it was simple to park the motorcycles, and we got our own glimpse of a pretty sunset. It was a relaxing ending to a difficult day. After we descended the mountain, we ate a delicious Italian dinner and went to sleep immediately after returning to the hotel.
May 11, 2024 - Sedona to Prescott
The next morning, we immediately returned to Airport Mesa to watch the sunrise. This time, there were far fewer people on the mountaintop and was even simpler to park the bikes. We watched the light and color change over the valley and on the sandstone cliffs. A smoky haze caused by nearby wildfires blanketed the valley floor, adding more complexity and beauty to the scene. My eye kept getting dragged towards the formation known as Coffee-Pot Rock. This place was spectacular! Why isn't it a national park? Why is there a city here?
Once we had our fill of the sunrise, we got back on the road and drove through more of Sedona, passing one impressive rock formation after another, countless wildflowers, and endless traffic. We briefly stopped at the Chapel of the Holy Cross, a famous church built into the surrounding sandstone. I was pleased to see blooming cactus and ocotillo plants at its base, setting the scene for excellent photographs. From there, we entered the highway and left Sedona.
We then made a stop at Montezuma's Castle National Monument which preserves an ancient Native American cliff dwelling near Camp Verde, AZ, since 1906. We paid a reasonable $10 entrance fee and learned a little bit about the natives who called this area home for thousands of years, why they chose this location, where they went, etc. It was getting hot at this point, so we didn't linger for long. After all, I had a lunch date with an old friend.
I first met my friend Jean when we worked together as volunteers at the animal shelter in Woodland, CA, specifically in the cat annex. She and her husband Roger moved to Cottonwood, AZ, a few years ago after buying a home in an area with cheaper cost of living compared to California to help them through their golden years. The Road King and I rumbled through their quiet neighborhood, and then I parked in the driveway. She greeted me at the door with a radiant smile on her face.
She fixed me a sandwich for lunch, and we had a pleasant visit sitting with each other at the kitchen table sharing stories. Roger joined us at one point, interested in my journey on the motorcycle and looking at certain locations on his atlas. This stop was one of my favorites of the trip because I felt like I dropped in on my own grandparents, and I felt welcome. It was time for me to go and rejoin my riding mates. Jean and Roger followed me to the driveway where they sent some sunscreen, homemade jam, and a banana with me. As I fired up the bike and it roared to life, I saw Jean laugh and clap her hands. I rode away with a smile of my own.
After meeting up with my buddies in Cottonwood, we rode up to the small, mountainside mining town of Jerome, a village with steep and twisty streets and drool-inducing views of the surrounding landscapes. We carefully parked our bikes on slopes and took a walk around town, exploring different shops and taking photos. We saw how much of a tourist trap this place can be with cars and pedestrians crawling everywhere like ants, so we didn't spend much time there.
The drive to Prescott, our stop for the night, took us on Highway 89A, a windy and twisty mountain road with little traffic. I laughed quite a bit to myself on this road because I have fun driving these routes. I enjoy cornering and seeing expansive views. Able to hear me through the intercom, my friends enjoyed my enjoyment. In Prescott, we settled in our hotel for the evening and then walked to a steakhouse for dinner.
May 12, 2024 - Prescott to Palm Springs
After sitting down for a hearty breakfast at a diner in Prescott, we returned to the road and headed west towards Palm Springs over yet more curvy, windy, pleasurable, mountain roads. Occasionally a fellow biker would get caught behind us while they rode at a faster pace, and they'd wait until they could pass safely. However, one such biker didn't wait for such an opportunity; he just passed us within curves and the double yellow line. None of us appreciated that. Later, that same biker had pulled off the road and onto a pullout. All three of us showed him our middle fingers with a clear message in mind.
Once we successfully navigated the mountain roads, our path forward was long, straight, and fast stretches of road through the Sonora Desert. Eventually I noticed seguaro cactus dominating the landscape, and realized that this was my first time driving through the Sonora Desert, something that filled me with glee. It was even more pleasurable with all of the colorful spring blooms on the seguaros, ocotillo, and other desert plants. Not only was this my first time driving through this desert and seeing seguaro, it was my first time seeing their flowers as well as the ocotillos.
We stopped to take photos a couple of times, but we tried to make good time towards Palm Springs. From Highway 60 we entered Interstate-10, turning up the speedometers even more. I remember I-10 being crowded with lots of traffic and not only did I have to watch the traffic around me to keep myself safe (or as safe as one can be riding a motorcycle), I was also eyeballing the gas gage. Soon the yellow light turned on, indicating I had roughly 20 miles of range left. With the outside temperature rising, we stopped in Quartzsite, AZ, to refuel. We raced across the California state line towards the Coachella Valley, with the temperature continuing to rise the lower in elevation we went.
We reached the Coachella Valley and the temperature gage on my friend's bike read 107 degrees F. So, we stopped at a Costco to cool off inside with their $1.50 hot dog and drink deal. What a relief that was! We felt much better after the break, although it was still slightly uncomfortable to ride back to my friend's home in Palm Spring due to the heat and my riding leathers. Once at home, I removed the boots with a sigh of relief and just sat in a reclining chair with a glass of water for a while, neglecting to take off any clothes. I was exhausted, but happy about it. I had just completed a gargantuan road trip on a motorcycle, the longest of my life.
May 13, 2024 - The Bonus Ride
I glumly returned the Road King to its owner the next day and then rode back to Palm Springs on the back of my friend's BMW motorcycle. Suffice to say that I prefer to drive a bike rather than be the passenger because it's so much more fun and engaging than riding pillion. So ended that epic road trip, one that caused all the emotions.
Or so I thought.
After we returned to Palm Springs, a mutual friend of ours invited us to do a day ride with him using an approximately 100-mile loop beginning and ending in Palm Springs along State Route 74. This is an excellent road that snakes up the mountain from the Coachella Valley and offers jaw-dropping views and smooth, curvy asphalt. He lent me a bike, a dark and venerable Harley Davidson Electra Glide with more than 100,000 miles that had "bat wings". It felt much more loose than the Road King I had just returned, but it was more agile around corners which I appreciated. So, after 9 straight days of riding, I was treated to a tenth day: the bonus ride.
During our first break at a turnout on the mountainside overlooking the valley, my friends agreed that I was a decent rider. These friends were part of a motorcycle club in Southern California and had actually invited me to join! (However, to this day in 2026 I still haven't officially joined the club because I live far away and still don't own my own bike.) We continued up the mountain and found ourselves in the higher elevations. To be surrounded by mountains while riding a motorcycle on gentle and curvy roads really puts a smile on my face. Life feels just right in those moments, like it's the most free I'll ever feel.
We stopped for lunch in Idylwild, a charming mountain town above 7,000 feet of elevation on Mt. San Jacinto. The air smelled fresh and my spirit lifted from yet another pleasurable rumble, although I forgot to turn off the headlight as I walked away. After a short rest with fruity smoothies, we continued on our way, snaking down the mountain towards Interstate-10 with a brief slowdown when we got caught behind a car driving well below the speed limit. Just outside of Palm Springs when we were flying at around 80 mph, I felt another death wobble on the Electra Glide and reported the issue to its owner through the intercom. Thankfully, we completed the day's ride in one piece, and so ended a trip of a lifetime.
By the time I drove home to Bishop in my car - which is 600 miles round trip - I drove roughly 3,000 miles on this trip, 2,400 miles of which were on the Road King. I saw sensational landscapes and had incredible experiences in Utah, Arizona, California, and Nevada over almost two weeks and understandably, I was knackered by the time I returned home. But it's always worth it when you acquire fond lifelong memories.
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