Day 11- Kanab to Ely, Nevada

Day 11 – Sept 26, 2005

Kanab, Utah to Ely, Nevada

An amazing day all told, chock full of all those “coincidences” that I don’t believe in. I wasn’t real keen on starting the day early in 32F weather, so doddled over breakfast and writing up my journal. I am most always wearing my Delta Hospice name badge and it usually is a great conversation starter. As I was finishing up, the gal who was tending the breakfast area came over and started to chat. It turned out that she had lost her Dad to cancer and it was the wish of she and her brother to keep him at home. I know what a tough go that can be. She said hospice was just amazing and she wouldn’t know how they would have got through it without their support. They don’t have a hospice residence, but the hospice volunteers come out to visit in the homes, the hospitals and care facilities the same as do we. We spoke at length about the grieving process and how it differs from person to person and the effects that it has, both short and long term. Their hospice didn’t have grief support programs available and I sensed that her being able to share her story was cathartic. We are so very fortunate to have Marg and Gilly's expertise in that area. I was feeling rather anxious about the time as it was after 11:00 a.m. before I got away but this also brought me back at a very basic level to the reason “Why” I do what I do; which is a question I often field. Having been a realtor for the past 20 years people are often curious about the change of lifestyle. I really would like to acknowledge this individual, Judy Coombs as it so touched my heart when she handed me some folded up bills and said “Here, this is all the tip money I have made this morning and I want you to take it for your hospice”. Then when I was warming up the bike and packing it up to leave she came out and handed me a couple more bills that had come in since that she wanted me to take. Thank you Judy; you are a very special lady.

Coming out of Kanab into one of the small towns en route to Long Valley Junction, is a well made sign advertising “Gunsmith” and right underneath “Custom made Caskets”. Hmmmm, would that be considered a conflict of interest?

I turned west on Hwy 14, a small secondary road that leads to Cedar City. The sign at the entry to it reads elevation to 10,000 Ft and Curvy roads to 25 MPH. Yippee!!! That’s just my kind of motorcycling road! Here I could really feel the “chill of an early fall” but the colours of the fast changing leaves were magnificent. Glorious golds of the cottonwoods, fiery reds of the aspens and oh - the wonderful smell of the mountain pines. The views absolutely take your breath away and I feel “on top of the world”. Coming into an area called Deer Valley, I am saddened to see they have recently lost a number of denizens. I see 6 full size deer and one baby doe lying in state on the side of the road.

I need fuel in Cedar City and make another wrong turn which got corrected quickly. I rode back to see if in fact there had been a sign and I was heartened to see that there was not! I head out on 56 West towards Newcastle/Modena/Uvada.
My next scheduled fuel stop is in Panaca and when I arrive I see an “Open” sign on the door of what appears to be the only service station in town. But wait… these pumps don’t look like they’ve been used in a while… Then I see that despite the “Open” sign everything else is all boarded up and there is not a soul to be seen. Panaca, it would seem has become a ghost town. Did it disappear like the legendary Atlantis? I head out and farther up the Hwy see a sign that I would need to turn off the road to hit Pioche. The sign also says “Next services 113 miles”. I already have 93 miles on the tank and try to ensure I have fuel every 100 miles. Paladin doesn’t get even close to the range my Interceptor did. I turn off the Hwy and head up what looks like another mountain pass. There is nothing and no one and when I stop to check the routing on my map – it doesn’t even show the “Hwy” I am on. Then an old ’63 Rambler comes by so I wave him down. I am greeted by a toothless grin. “Is this the road to Pioche?” “Yes Ma’am – it sho enough is”. Pioche is a quaint little town that reminds me of Kimberley in the Kootenays.

Hwy 93 North out of Pioche is dead straight for mile after mile after mile. There is absolutely nothing and no-one out in this barren, desolate and unforgiving part of the country. I don’t see a cow, horse or even any of the predatory vultures. I don’t see another vehicle in either direction for 57 miles. That’s almost 100KM. I can count on one hand the number of vehicles I saw in the next 30 miles.

Since my iPod is frozen AGAIN, I decide to do some isometric exercises to amuse myself. Clench those cheeks – count to 20. Grip that tank with my thighs – count to 20. Who needs a thighmaster. Suck in that stomach – count to 20. Then start the routine anew. I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to walk when I get off the bike but maybe I’ll be able to fit back into those leather pants again when I get back home. I’m not too worried about Hwy Patrol out here – it really wouldn’t be worth their while and I’m sure they don’t really expect people to follow the posted speed on this road. However, just as a precaution, on the rare times I do see a vehicle approaching I drop my speed back - considerably.

At a distance to the west, I see another front developing but its ill effects won’t be here today. From time, across the desert, drifts an icy breeze with a promise of what still lies ahead. But that’s not for today either – today I savour the embrace of the warm sun and feel the love and caring thoughts of my new found family and friends.

The first 10 miles out of Major’s Place over Conner’s Pass is custom made for a motorcycle. Long beautifully banked sweepers and lazy esses. Coming out of Conner’s Pass I am fighting a strong headwind. Combined with the rate of travel as it were, I am on reserve in the final miles into Ely, Nevada. I haven’t had to use the little “Gerry can” I carry strapped to the back of the bike and I’m not real anxious to. Lydia, perhaps I’ll take that Fort Worth petrol all the way home to Canada.

I breeze into Ely on fumes and have my highest fill up yet. I have a reservation at the Best Western where I confirmed with the central reservation desk that they do in fact have internet available. I check in and no – the room I have does not have internet access and in fact they only have 3 rooms that do. They have booked someone into one of the King-size rooms that has a data port but they don’t think he has a need for it. I ask if I can change to that room but tell them no way I am sharing that King Size bed. It costs an extra $10.00 – a small price to pay for the convenience. Besides using the internet daily for my writing, I use it to check my routing and have a look at the weather and expected temperatures. It’s pretty handy and I love my little 12” laptop. However, once I unpack and set it up I am not able to configure the wireless and ask at the front desk if I need an SSID code or ??? They have no idea but tell me the gentleman in the neighbouring room has no trouble with his internet and perhaps I could ask him. It’s about 5:00 P.M. and I knock on his door. I feel really bad when he comes to the door and I have obviously awakened him from a sound sleep. I explain why I am there and ask if he could have a look once he is up and about. He is very good natured and throws on a shirt and says no, he’ll come over now. He is well versed with computers and quickly realizes that all I need is an ethernet cable which of course, I do not have. He goes back to his room, rummages around and comes back with one that although it has seen better days and the clip is broken will make do nicely and I am up and running. Thank you Bob for your help and consideration.

Having missed dinner yesterday and having only a small breakfast today I am feeling pretty ravenous. I am going to treat myself to a nice steak tonight and ask where is the best steak in town. Yes, I know – again it is a subjective question but I’m going to take my chances – again. They tell me the Jailhouse Inn and Casino and I’m going to head out there shortly and I’m not going to talk myself out of it just because I don’t want to face another meal on my own. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Cheers!

LS