Moab, Utah

Monday 10 August

After the state jumping of a couple of days back

Sth Dakota, Nebraska, Wyoming, Colorado all in one day, Rapid City to Ft Collins

its been a single border day, Leadville to Moab.

The road to Moab

The flavour of this town is mormon, named after the biblical town near the Red Sea

but this didnt save the local Indians, the Utes, after whom the state gets its name

from the usual "ceding" of lands.

Its laughable when the goldrush was over, and the gold-towns turned into ghost-towns

nobody thought to give it back, not even the mormons.

The drink laws are peculiar, but not being a need-to drinker I havent grappled with them first hand

the others stocked up before the border.

We did slip into a bar across the way before bed

apparently, it hasnt been very long since such places have been able to purvey direct to the public.

There are 2 in town, (pop around 5000, altitude, same in 'asl)

the only beer you could get was low alc

but the young patronage were stuffing mostly jagermeister and red bull into their faces

we only stayed for one drink.

A recent census puts the average earnings in the mid $30k, average home value $100k, average home tax, less than $600

so she's not exactly Hollywood out here

although the town leapt to prominence as a uranium producer, (pronounced yuranim, lol..), over the 50's and 60's.

Mining's wound down now, leaving a 16 million ton heap of radio-active tailings

you might have read about the govt undertaking to get rid of it, which theyre steadily doing.

The local contractor just got some more dough from Dept of Energy, federal anti-recession funds injection

so they're talking about hiring some more, up to 190 head, and doing the job faster.

There's a nice story about the geologist, Charlie Steen, who set his family up in a tar-paper shack out in the scrub after the war

no power, phone etc, went to the railway line once a week for a barrel of water

used all his savings, and that of his wife and mother

borrowed a drilling rig, went down deeper than he should, broke the tip off and jammed the hole

the owner came and re-po'ed the rig.

A geologist, he reckoned he could tell uranium ore just by looking at it

but on the way home with the day's samples the kids had chucked on back of the jeep, stopping for gas at a mates servo, the mates geiger counter went ballistic.

Charlie turned down several offers on his claim, which he and close supporters, hurriedly enlarged

and earned up to $130m, which was big dough in those days.

He went to the govt instead and got a deal sanctioned whereby he set up the only private atomic facility ever allowed

then after the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl incidents, the uranium mining industry died a slow death.

Charlie sold his shares, set up other businesses

but despite having paid over $30m in taxes and being favoured by federal govt, the IRS went after him for $4m they claimed in unpaids.

He could have settled for a lot less according to his lawyer, but chose a 4 year legal battle instead

which inevitably went pear shaped and Charlie finished up how he started, on the bones of his ass, with just the house the IRS let him keep.

However, the flurry of prospecting has left the area a legacy of oil, copper, and potash wealth.

Leadville to Independence

Anyway, back to today, its been another great one...

leaving Leadville in a cool mid 40's degF it was up and over yet another pass, Independence, at a tick over 12,000'

the now ghost-town its named after had yielded $190k of gold between 1880 and 1882

there's a photo of a 1920's doog-doog on the Pass road, pick and shovelled by hand, you gotta be kidding.

Independence lost out to Aspen's more favourable situation

playpen of the rich nowadays alright, Lear jets lined up along the runway park, could have been a hundred of them.

Independence Pass

But not a town for me...

it was up and over another pass, McClure, 8800'

and down to a 99% asleep little town called Paonia for lunch

just the Subway social centre open, with a few kids tarting and jocking around

seriously, the chow's more reasonable, predictable, and can be had for less tip than elsewhere.

Just had lunch today that'll do for tea too, (Mon 10th) at a Denny's,

warm chicken, pecan and blueberry salad, bottomless Dr Pepper, for $12.

Climbing Independence

After the Subway 6", another pass, Skyway, on the Grand Mesa Range

then a quick drop down towards Interstate 70

where, in the blink of an eye, the landscape turned alpine to desert

incredible.......

Onto I70 West, for more duelling with the 75mph semi's...

today's rag reports a couple of accidents on the I70, both nod off to sleepers.

One bloke set his cruise control and went straight into the desert on a bend, flipped onto the roof and got squashed

the other, a woman, came to in time to get into a correction swerve into the path of a semi

who slammed on his anchors for another desert excursion

but, we're all very impressed with american driving standards

its fast, but no aggro

which is a pretty general pervasion about the whole place, wall to wall pardon and excuse me.

I'm going to be sorry to have to come back eventually, to the misplaced testosterone, dick-in-the-head behaviour of young kiwi's, (and some not so young)

where did we go wrong?

have a guess....

US riding gear, Arches Natl Park

One upshot of it is I feel the same way about the predictability of the roads as the majority of American bikers

and am happy to ride shirt-sleeved, sans helmet.

I did say you could get sunstroke from the practice, but have been doing a bit in a cowboy hat

will attach a pic for Lance Nixon.......

Full-face helmets definitely take you closer to death, and you can please yourself about personal sauna-ing in an armoured jacket

synthetic clothing, socks, and boots, reek to the heavens in 3 hours flat.

Cant beat specialty wool and good choice of cottons, or blends thereof...

Amen.

A young Colorado River

Anyway, I digress

off I70 onto a pokey desert road, totally desert

after 10 miles, drifting into a slowly deepening canyon embracing an adolescent Colorado River, the real deal

the canyon walls get more imposing and then my first buttes and mesas appear, regal, ancient, goose-pimpling in the evening glow.

If you wanna be bored to death, I got heaps of pics

thank christ for digital technology, changing films would drive you to drink.

And so it was, I arrive at the hotel just in time to join the team on the courtesy bus to a ranch-style all you can eat dinner

the prelude to a riverboat sound and light show trip up the canyon we'd just come down by road.

Part of it we just drifted in silence

and was able to name Jupiter, pick out the constellations of Scorpio and Sagittarius, upside down in the northern hemisphere firmament

and see the Big Dipper for the first time in 40 odd years since shearing les moutons en France, dix neuf soicant quatre.

Bloody great being old, and how ways lead, surely returning upon way, more regular like

to quote sister Kathy floating face-up in Emily Bay lagoon, Norfolk Is...

wouldnt be dead for quids.

Another part of a another great days ride

Beaver dam