Brrrrr....

Private residence in Mayer

I was up early after a 10 hour day before, I wanted to get on the road as soon as possible.  Checked the temp on TV and it was only 28F in Prescott.  For those of you that don't remember anything before Celsius, that's below freezing!  I was up around 5500 feet and once on the road I would be heading down to lower altitudes.  The forecast high for the Phoenix area was mid 60's for the day, but I didn't plan a quick (?) ride down the Interstate to get there.



By the time I had packed the bike and donned every piece of clothing I had, it had warmed considerably, yup my bike thermometer showed a balmy 30!

Just before I left, as often happens, a stranger came over to chat.  Tomas was from Alaska and was looking for a place to buy in the area.  He had a big BMW GS up there and like myself was looking at extending his riding season.  No kidding I thought, wouldn't be much riding up there.

As we spoke about bikes and homes and general stuff I asked what his Nationality was.  I detected a slight accent and when he told me he was Hungarian, I switched and surprised the hell out of him I'm sure.  I mean really... the chances of running into another Magyar thousands of miles from each of our respective homes in the North country, here in a high desert community at a little roadside motel were about the same as you or I winning a lottery... twice.  On the same day!



We chatted for a bit longer but I did have to leave, and saying farewell I fired up the somewhat reluctant engine and let it warm for 10 minutes before I was ready to depart.

Crown King is a wayyyyy over them mountains!

My motel was right on route 69 and I followed it out of town filling up along the way.  Droning along the freeway until Mayer I crossed back onto gravel, retracing my route from the day before.  After my encounter with the tarantula, yesterday... I didn't realize until Cleator that I had left the lens on Macro and ruined about 2 dozen photos.

Cordes Junction was closed, I suspect Cathy has a real job somewhere, and I blew by with a wave, before heading down to the CK turnoff.  Scenery always looks different going in the opposite direction.  Feeling more comfortable I rode at a much higher pace even seeing 50 mph on the gravel road at rare times.



This time instead of taking the Maggie Mine road into Black Canyon City, I had another thought from the guide books and scooted down I-17 for another boring stretch, ever watchful of someone running up my rear with the sedan on cruise control set to 85!

Just south of Rock Springs I exited the freeway and took a map break.  I was at the entrance to Table Mesa road and this would lead me to the New River Canyon, if I wanted to take it.  By this time, the sun was out and I had dropped a couple of thousand feet in elevation and it was after all... early afternoon.  Did I have time to do this 50 mile stretch?

Like usual, my alter ego Dr. N. convinced me that "hey... you're here, ya got water and food and its warm out, and you have a guide book, go for it dude!  What are you waiting for?"  

The book told me this was a moderate to difficult route, there would be a section of about 23 miles that was more trail than 'road'.



Map put away, tires checked once more and I crossed over I-17 and within a mile came to a gate that I remembered from the guide book.  This bypassed the ranch and from here it would be trail.