“I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name; it felt good to be out of the rain.” -America (1972)
I’ve been out of town a few days. Beyond a few shifts at work, some blogging, and rain that apparently reached biblical proportions, I don’t think I missed much here in Western Washington. In exchange I was extremely lucky to experience Arizona. It was a paradox of discomfort and adrenalin rush, desolation and breathtaking scenery, dangerous riding and freedom beyond compare.
Along with seven buddies, I flew into Phoenix, rented a Harley and rode a big loop through the Grand Canyon State. We went south to the border and the historic mining town of Bisbee, north through the Devil’s Highway and its 400 switchbacks topping out at 9000 feet, and then back south through the red rocks of Sedona. We managed to see everything but the big canyon itself.