Breakfast in Payson. With 45 mpg out of the bike when Derick suggested breakfast in a town about 66 miles north of Fountain Hills, it was a no brainer. We met up at starbucks and rolled out onto the old bee line highway that is the end of town and the begining of the Ft. Mcdowell Indian Reservation. 66 miles of peaks and valleys and open landscapes of Joshua trees. Weird looking flowers that look oddly taken from some demented cartoon, and mountains made from a delicate balance of huge boulders, placed by nature like some dangerous marble jenga monument. On to the Knotty Pine Cafe in Payson the food was excellent and the ride was an odd concoction of sun burn and goosebumps. We both reaked of sun screen anyway, to no avail our fair skin rolled pink over the course of a few hours under the sun. The weather was very nice in the 70's all day and we abliged our speedometers to the same treatment for a few miles north of Payson. Down one of the coolest little switch back decents into a specific canyon manned by two older park rangers is the natural bridge. My ankle was still a little twisted from finding 1st gear and the starter button tangle with the weight of the big bike on it, so we walked down to make out point, look out #4, and took some pictures. Just as Derick was taking one of the first pictures of me during the trip my batteries failed, so other than his word their is no evidence of the trip every happening. Perfect. The remaining pictures were taken on our phones and I have yet figured a way to take them off of it and onto the computer. We stopped at an old bike salvage yard and found a tresure trove of awsome hogs. Period chops and war bikes, I paid less for my running twin cam ultra than this guy wanted for a long term project so we roared back to starbucks and broke camp. This was one of many day trips to come. Stephanie is looking forward to taking me to some of the more illusive points of intrest in AZ. There are many, although I don't think we will be stopping off at any motorcycle salvage yards, we could turn up and awsome wind chime of blown glass and copper. By the way and unexpected modification made the bike wicked quick, yet the favorite so far is the hardwired garage door opener. Harley Nerd? new term? Love you all.
Breakfast in Payson. With 45 mpg out of the bike when Derick suggested breakfast in a town about 66 miles north of Fountain Hills, it was a no brainer. We met up at starbucks and rolled out onto the old bee line highway that is the end of town and the begining of the Ft. Mcdowell Indian Reservation. 66 miles of peaks and valleys and open landscapes of Joshua trees. Weird looking flowers that look oddly taken from some demented cartoon, and mountains made from a delicate balance of huge boulders, placed by nature like some dangerous marble jenga monument. On to the Knotty Pine Cafe in Payson the food was excellent and the ride was an odd concoction of sun burn and goosebumps. We both reaked of sun screen anyway, to no avail our fair skin rolled pink over the course of a few hours under the sun. The weather was very nice in the 70's all day and we abliged our speedometers to the same treatment for a few miles north of Payson. Down one of the coolest little switch back decents into a specific canyon manned by two older park rangers is the natural bridge. My ankle was still a little twisted from finding 1st gear and the starter button tangle with the weight of the big bike on it, so we walked down to make out point, look out #4, and took some pictures. Just as Derick was taking one of the first pictures of me during the trip my batteries failed, so other than his word their is no evidence of the trip every happening. Perfect. The remaining pictures were taken on our phones and I have yet figured a way to take them off of it and onto the computer. We stopped at an old bike salvage yard and found a tresure trove of awsome hogs. Period chops and war bikes, I paid less for my running twin cam ultra than this guy wanted for a long term project so we roared back to starbucks and broke camp. This was one of many day trips to come. Stephanie is looking forward to taking me to some of the more illusive points of intrest in AZ. There are many, although I don't think we will be stopping off at any motorcycle salvage yards, we could turn up and awsome wind chime of blown glass and copper. By the way and unexpected modification made the bike wicked quick, yet the favorite so far is the hardwired garage door opener. Harley Nerd? new term? Love you all.
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