Durango Four-Corners Rally 2007

While Toby is busy working on posting the pictures, I decided I'd tell you about the 4 Corners Run. First, there were hardly any corners, I'll explain later. The Wolf had the great idea of always starting each day early to beat the heat. This made the 400 odd mile ride there, and every successive days journey totally climatbly non-global warming enjoyable. When we started out Wednesday, the first 60 miles south or so was like I5 from Sac to Redding. Sprawl and burbs. Then we cut east through the mountains. And mountains they were, chilly mountains. When you reach 7400 feet at 8:15 in the morning, its friggin cold. At the mountain's peak the Wolf, desperate for petrol, pulled into an abandoned gas station. That didn't work out to well. Fortunately, it was down hill from there. Gorges, cliffs, bluffs, of brown, grey and green. All the while this menacing thunderstorm is parallel to us. No worries, no rain. I think it was Price, well before Green River, we pulled in for gas, and 09:00 AM Burger King Burgers. On the road again, for the next 45 minutes we scream across the high desert, straight line 80 mph, with sandy desert and brush to our right and left, and huge grey bluffs on either horizon. Moab was our next stop. Did you know that there are two custom bike shops in Moab? Neither did we, one was called Bone Daddy's. Now, we start seeing bizarre rock formations, and more amazing bluffs, and every thing is red, red, red. And its getting hot. And we hit more straight line hiway, 80 miles an hour, wind, open vistas, total freedom. Monte Cello is next. We had been heading south, now we cut east again. And this dick weed semi who refuses to pull over, and insists on passing every semi on the right, you know, 5 minutes per passing attempt, messes things up, but we cross the border into Colorado. And as Chris said, its like the Coloradoans told the Utahns "Here's where the border will be. You get the dry colorless side, and we'll take the colorful

Holy Crap, there's a text limit. ... "Here's where the border will be. You get the dry colorless side, and we'll take the colorful, moist, lush side. That way there's no confusion. Have fun Utahns." We gas up one more time in Cortez, close enough now that no map is needed. You just ave to follow the bikers. Mesa, mesa, and more mesa with trees, bush and brush on either side. The hiway meanders with just enough curves to keep it interesting. We pull into Durango around 2pm, and as we sit at the hotel bar toasting the completion of our 7 hour journey, the sky's darken, it begins to pour and even hail. We miss the thunderstorms each day the same way. Next day we are off to the 4 Corners Monument. Its in the middle of nowhere, a plaque in the ground surround by booths run by Native Americans selling their wares. A couple of Italians go bonkers over my bike, snapping endless photographs. One Italian bets the other that the bike is a Harley. He loses. Back in Durango we go out after dinner. I have 10, or 15 shots of Patron. The last thing I remember is sitting at a booth at the Roadhouse with 4, 5 or 6 young English ladies, telling them how England will always be the mother country, and so may I suck the tit, er maybe I didn't say that. Or did I? Regardless, I am sick as a dog the next day, which screws up the run to Ignacio. Mesa Verde, primative, and very cool. Thank gawd Wolf and I quite smoking cigarettes months ago 'cause the best sites are always a hike, even like 1/4 mile straight down (easy part) and a 1/4 mile straight up (not so easy). Oh yeah, and you have to try a Navajo Taco. The ride back to SLC was just as awesome as the ride there. I was home 30 minutes when the Wolf called. He got drenched in a thunder storm 1 mile from his house. The biker gods must have decided it was time to collect for the previous 4 days.
Ton of stuff we did not do there, so mark you calendar for 2008. :P