Sorry this post is out of order. It should have gone up last night. But, my mind was elsewhere and I screwed up.
I had a whole post written up about the first day of the trip. But Blogger on my phone decided to not save the draft. So here are the highlights.
Barstow to Baker was jammed because someone decided to park their pickup upside down. Which is when I learned that lane splitting for 10-15 miles isn't fun and that trucker can be assholes.
Las Vegas smells like weed.
The most beautiful time to arrive at Zion is at dusk.
The worst time to find a camping spot at Zio is at Dusk. Unless you happen to be noticed by a couple of Belgian brothers that are taking a three month motorcycle tour of the states and they offer to let you put up a tent in their spot.
All in all a great first day.
Now day two. Everything started out fine. Broke camp, took a nice ride through the park, stopped for breakfast at the Thunderbird in some town I don't remember, then off I go. I stopped at a church in Hatch to look over the bike. Everything was fine except one bodywork well nut fell out. No big deal. I was worried about the muffler end cap. But, it was fine. For now at least.
I finally hit my first "Warning: Last fuel for xxx miles" sign. So I stopped in Salina (pronounced Sa-line-ah) and headed off for a 110 mile desert. About thirty minutes later the exhaust gets much louder. At first I thought my ears had popped. I pulled off at a rest stop a couple of miles later and got a few healthy backfires. When I dismounted I found the culprit.
There was horrible cell service at the rest stop but I got out a couple of text messages and headed back to Sa-line-ah (30 miles in the wrong direction). After some web searching I found a Kawasaki shop in Grand Junction with a parts guy with a stock KLR exhaust. So I start limping to Grand Junction or at least to Green River.
Nope. About 30 miles away from Green River I get another good backfire and the bike dies. I coast to the shoulder to see what's up. The bike will turn over and I can smell gas. So, spark, right? I pull apart the bike to check the plug. Which, why Kawasaki, do I need to remove the side covers, seat, side fairings, and tank to get to the f**king spark plug? The plug looks workable, but I throw in a spare anyway. I should mention for a good part of this a retired Harley rider had pulled over to help. The water was excellently cold. So I fit the tank back on and try again. Nothing. At this point I start an hour long phone call with AAA trying to get a tow. After they finally agree to come out and figure out where I am (how hard is "mile marker 110 on I70 east bound" really) I wave Cliff and his wife off. While I waited I put the bike back together. At about 7:30 the tow shows up with a very helpful driver. He suggested we stop at his buddies hotel o see if he'll truck my bike to Grand Junction. But that didn't work out. So, now I'm in the Moab Best Western waiting to call U-Haul tomorrow to rent a truck.
Yeah, it's been a day.
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