Curves

Position: Arizona-Utah border
Equipment: BMW 1200 LT
Pax-on-Board: 1


The last night on the road...

Where does the time go? Ten days ago the wife-of-my-youth and I packed our big German motorcycle with two days worth of clothes and departed for parts unknown. We decided to totally wing it; no plans and no destination.

An hour after push-back from the driveway, we were out of the traffic and running northbound with a light quartering tailwind. The certitude that we had made the correct decision was now readily apparent. The heavy Bavarian road machine is built to do one thing... Miles in its six. It does that very well, too.

It carves curves like a road razor with bank angles that are insane for a large motorcycle. My wife loves riding behind me on this beast. Two summers ago, we rode it to Alaska... Ten thousand miles of decompression.

Sunset finds us climbing out of the windy desert into high terrain with cold temperatures and twisty mountain roads. The engine's fuel management computer is handling the altitude and temperature changes with ease.

I have slowed considerably because of the failing light and bright yellow signs warning of large furry animals on the road. The Beamer has anti-skid braking power that has to be experienced to comprehend, but I would rather not demonstrate it to my wife.

Climbing through 7,000 feet lowers the temperature to 38 F. which trips the ice warning on the instrument panel, a flashing snow flake. The roads are dry and clear, but the LT is nervous about the temperature. It is almost dark... The inn is about fifteen more miles. And we are only assuming they have a room.

Instrument lights are ON; the integrated GPS NAV system switches automatically from daylight to night setting. I reach back and switch the seat heat to ON under my wife's little hiney and ask her if she is warm enough via the helmet-to-helmet COMM. She is wearing a heated liner underneath her Joe Rocket jacket drawing power from the bike's electrical system. She says she is toasty and very happy that we ran away from home. We both laugh about that... There is something about a powerful motorcycle and the horizon.

Hairpin curves come one after another as we climb ever higher into the mountainous terrain. The potent engine, emitting a low growling sound of pent-up energy, is loafing as we take the dark curves slow and easy, always watching ahead for eyeballs in a 90 degree arc. A glance at the GPS shows five more miles.

Punching through 8,000 feet; OAT is 30 F. I give up and switch my electric jacket liner ON. The slipstream is getting frosty. I can feel radiated engine heat on my legs. Does it get any better than this? No, I think not...

The INN at the top of the world...

Ahead, leaking through the dark forest, light from the Inn. Yes! Easy does it... remember the gravel parking lot.

A few seconds later we are stopped in a large parking lot with two other vehicles, ATV type. In the summer, this place will be packed.

After my wife dismounts, I activate the electro-hydraulic centerstand raising the rear wheel clear of the ground. Think of landing gear... It is one of the top ten coolest things I have ever seen.

Through the door and into warmth... Yes, they have rooms. Actually, we can have any room we want. I notice my iPhone has no signal... Good.

"Do you guys have Internet?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry."

"No, no. That's good."

Outside in the dark, I open the right cargo compartment and remove our two days worth of clothes. The big bike is ticking in the cold air as the engine and exhaust cool. It smells good... Metal, fuel, horsepower, Metzler 880 rubber... German engineering of the highest degree.

Inside our little room, my wife is making the nest.

Where will tomorrow take us? Who cares?