Back in the Saddle. Tonto and another Friggen' resevoir

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May 29th 2009
Published: June 6th 2009
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Apache JunctionApache JunctionApache Junction

This was someone's house. I think I found the rich suburb of Apache Junction, itself a suburb of Phoenix. That's the lost Dutchmen behind, though I don't know how they ever lost it and what's so Dutch about it. It looked all Arizona to me...
I left Tucson with a newly serviced head - engine and otherwise. I was feeling good ready to, as Alex would put it, rage on. I had decided to head up to a meteor crater outside of Flagstaff. The fastest way was Straight up I-10 to I-17 but just before I made it out of Tucson I turned on Miracle Mile and took Hwy 77 out of town on a whim. I tend to avoid freeways and head for the roads that have a little dotted red line next to them, the scenic routes. Slow traffic, long lights and the mid-afternoon heat - not a cool, in any sense of the word. Finally I made it to Apache Junction and soon thereafter the coolness began to abound. I stopped for gas and a fellow KLRati gave me the low-down. Highway 88 past the Lost Dutchmen, Tortilla Flats and twisties through the Superstition Mountains. It was probably the longest stretch of dirt that Baby got to munch on yet (we only almost bit it twice). By the time we reached lake Roosivelt - not a natural lake, of course - the sun was out of sight, the hills were painted orange and
Canyonlands and Knar. Canyonlands and Knar. Canyonlands and Knar.

Need I say more?
there was no food to be had for 20 miles. I suppose i was more pre-occupied with this last issue than with finding a good spot to camp. When I got back from grabbing my tortillas and beans up at Tonto Basin, I ended up in some massive campground on the lake surrounded by drunk people talking about fish and blasting CCR. I can't deny that I was grooving on the CCR as I threw my can of beans on the fire, but the talk of fish was followed closely by the smell of fish and an unpleasant sensation of food-envy. I think that was the first time I stayed in a campground without being offered anything. Food, beer, company... these are things that one is almost entitled to when they show up in your campground alone, dirty and Canadian. Bastards. I went to bed early to bed early depressed and hoping for better from what was to come. What was to come delivered....

Additional photos below
Photos: 7, Displayed: 7


Superstition and Writing on the WallSuperstition and Writing on the Wall
Superstition and Writing on the Wall

Quite the descent, right. Well someone got to experience the full effect. The guard rail was flattened just underneath where I took this photo from.
FIsh CreekFIsh Creek
FIsh Creek

There was no creek and for damn sure no fish, but the caves in the cliffs were pretty cool.
Stayed a while...Stayed a while...
Stayed a while...

The shade was too precious to pass up.
The ride outThe ride out
The ride out

It was still another 20 miles of heat and dirt once I got down to the bottom.
The end of the roadThe end of the road
The end of the road

Beautiful Lake Roosevelt... Baby was too shy to strip down and swim. I sure as hell wasn't.

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