Knackered

12 hours on the road.
329 miles.
Bryce canyon.
9400ft above sea level.
Above the snow line and if where we stayed yesterday was middle of nowhere ...

An early start in the cold. Very cold so cold that ...
You've seen those things they use for watering fields, the long pipe on wheels? They were spraying ice.
Cold.

I did wonder "why am I doing this".

At the first fuel stop at Carmel Junction one guy asked "How's it goin?".
He was still chuckling at the response of "fuckin freezing" when we pulled out.

Second breakfast at Bryce canyon at 11 am and it was still cold. The sun was starting to warm up the world under a clear blue sky but it was taking it's time. I don't suppose being at 9000 ft above sea level really helped our cause. (I didn't understand what the height meant till Paul explained it as "twice Ben Nevis - and it snows there too")

I still consider Bryce Canyon one of the most spectacular scenes I have ever seen and it amazes again.

The road that winds through the park afforded a number of opportunities to see how far over we can get these bikes, but Paul complained about the smell of burning rubber from my boots scraping on the corners.

With another storm coming in in the next couple of days we had to decide how to avoid it without missing too much of the classic scenery.

We couldn't not go to Torrey as Route 12 is one of the classics. Running north my legs got really tired keeping my feet on the pegs, the joys of wearing thermals under my leathers, but when the road reaches 9400ft up, above the snow line, there isn't much option.

Torrey at 5pm - we decide to keep going.
The road from Torrey to Hanksville is one of the most awe inspiring. The hills look like someone has dumped huge piles of different coloured sand, one on top of the other. White runs into red into black - that is why I'm doing this.
From Hanksville the road heads SE to Blanding - but we can't ride it as the bikes don't carry the 120 miles of fuel required, so 25 miles down the road we turned south to a place called Ticaboo, a motel in the middle of nowhere.

Legs hurt, eyes hurt, arms hurt from hanging on and I'm wind burned.
Riding into a head wind for the last couple of hours is taking it's toll. These bikes have no windshield and your body is upright - like a sail. The grips are bigger than the ones on my bike - which is a good thing as you need large handles to hold onto the damned bike. If I take my feet off the pegs and let them hang they hit the road, and if I lean forwards over the bars the front wheel wobbles scarily and the whole bike becomes unstable. (Forget taking your hands off the bars - even for an instant).

The bathroom's empty.
The bath is calling.

576 miles total - 329 miles today