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Should I be disappointed that the miles per day are dropping off and today I did not cross a state border? Nah, it's what has happened along the way and how you feel at the end of the day that counts. The day started brilliantly with fresh squeezed orange juice and avocado toast. You gotta love Flagstaff. Poking around the hotel before I left I discovered that Michael Stripe had stayed there. He was the lead singer songwriter with REM and the voice behind Everybody Hurts, possibly my all time favorite song. I could not ask for more, until, recall yesterday I met Beth and Mel. Beth told me she was a big time AirBnB host. Today my buddy Rob, who is following the blog from where he lives in Tucson, texted me that he and his wife Penny had stayed with Beth when visiting Flagstaff. It is a small world.
Yesterday I neglected to mention that I entered Flagstaff on route 66 which explains in part why so many movie stars had stayed at the hotel Monte Vista since route 66 is featured in so many films. And yes scenes from Easy Rider were filmed nearby. Okay being a
bit obsessive about Flagstaff, time to move on.
More windy roads today than any day on the trip. Boo was queasy. He did not say anything, but I could see it in his beard. Followed route 89A through Coconico State Forest, mostly pine until we hit the gorge north of Sedona. One of the great motorcycling roads. Steep red rock cliff faces all around. If you want to be amused, trace it out on Google maps. It's like that kids game where you trace the wire without touching the sides. If you do touch the sides you get an electric shock. Well a bell rings more likely. The wire continues for miles beyond Sedona (which I find a bit too touristy for me). It gets really interesting at Jerome where a steady hand is imperative. Jerome is embedded in the side of the mountain at 5000 feet and was known for supporting surrounding mining operations. Crawling around the switchbacks behind the tourists something happened that I have never experienced before with the trusty BMW, the temperature went off the scale and the ominous big red triangle appeared. To be honest I have never touched the cooling system. At one time I thought it was air cooled but it actually has a radiator and coolant. Was it leaking? Was I doomed? No point stopping now. Hobble on to Prescott and find help. Then when I got up to speed again all was forgiven and it went back to normal. I love how my bike heals itself. Stopped in Prescott for a celebratory lunch and then took a walk along Whisky Row where there was once 40 saloons. So much done and so much to do. Stumbled across one of those sign shops that have metal replicas of all sorts of things including album covers. The one I liked best pictured a motorcycle and the immortal words, “:you will never see a motorcycle outside a shrink's office.” Priceless. Too big to fit into the bike’s panniers, must remember to order online.
Still on route 89 leaving Prescott. Lots of twists and turns through Prescott Forest and spectacular scenery coming off the plateau. Looking ahead to route 71 and 60 it was flat and featureless. When I got there it did not disappoint. Add hot as hell to its other attributes. Not a cloud in the sky all day today and in the 90’s on the plain. The last stretch was on I10. The only time I have been on an interstate since I left Virginia on I64. So glad to have been on the B roads. Often I had the road to myself for mile after mile, interesting towns and never that slow. Compare that to an endless stream of trucks, liberally shedding rubber at the side of the road and nothing of interest but billboards and fast food stops. Tomorrow I will reach the Pacific Ocean (on B roads). From sea to shining sea (well almost).
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