Road Trippin' 2008
Our 200 Mile Motorcycle Venture
Destination: Colorado City, Arizona

WARNING: If any reader is easily offended or nauseated by religion and/or my views regarding freakish hyper-religious sects, please stop reading and I'll see you back at the next post. If you're curious, go right ahead. You have been warned and, therefore, it's your own fault. I'm not responsible for your reaction, only mine.


Even before we turned the key on the Yukon to begin our two week journey, I knew of one place I just HAD to visit - Colorado City. Like a bad car accident, I had to slow down and look. If you've been watching the news these past couple of years or been in a bookstore as of late, the polygamist society has been at the forefront of discussion in every facet of the media. I alone have been extremely fascinated with the why's, what's and practices of this icky, bizarre religion for many, many years. Hey, for some it's the Amish; for me it's the polygamists. And many of my friends have the same strange fascination (yes, Ixchelle, I mean you). Having educated Terry on the history of the FLDS, he, too, was more than willing to take the journey into the unknown. But first, we had some very cool country to ride through to get there...and a 6 year old who would rather have been in the hotel pool all day. Sorry, Jack, but we feel we must expose you to strange America. And no, you can't bring a couple o' bitches back to the room with you in the name of religion. Leave that up to the creepy white dudes for which you are not one of.

And now, on with the show...

One of two tunnels we drove through. The first tunnel was over a mile of blackout darkness complete with a nip in the air. This one was much shorter but begged for a pic. There was a trail on either side of the tunnel leading into the vast unknown. I kept those in mind for a later date. Always more fun to hike with the animals instead of the tourists. Always.

After riding through Zion, we happened upon a buffalo ranch. Thousands of acres provided these free range buffalos the ability to roam. In the background, you can see cabins that are for rent, some for sale.

The "Don't be an Idiot" sign for those Americans who think who are stupid enough to scale the fence. How sad is it that as adults, some of us still have to be reminded not to prove Darwin right? Go ahead, climb. Be an idiot. More room for the rest of us.

No, I didn't scale the fence for this pic! I'll leave that up the beer swillers from Arkansas. This one just happened to be this close at the moment.

Zion is barely visible in the background. Not a bad view for a herd of buffalo.

We met a couple from Germany who had been on the road for over a year. The shipped their motorhome to the U.S. and had just returned from a couple month road trip in Mexico. They had nothing but wonderful things to say about their Mexican trip. Good to hear.

Let me introduce you to Cornelius. He is originally from Holland and was riding his way up to Salt Lake City from Phoenix to visit a friend. He is a veteran long-range cyclist who has manuevered many continents on two wheels. He was very friendly and intelligent yet somewhat reserved when it came to talking about himself. His ride was piece-mealed together as was his gear. In our travels, we saw many cyclists pedaling for the long haul. We'd honk and they'd smile and wave. Let's just say that a long-range cycling trip has found its way onto our to-do list...sounds like a fun challenge. Why not?

And while at the buffalo range, we grubbed at the local restaurant...and ordered a buffalo burger...while gazing out AT the buffalo. Is something a bit amiss about this?!?

We couldn't continue the motorcycle ride until Jack got in some ropin' time. Why not pick up a new skill while on the road? You never know, he may need to catch dinner if we break down!

Welcome to Freedonia, Arizona, gateway to polygamy country.

You could imagine how we looked riding around Colorado City in brightly colored motorcycle gear with, God forbid, only one child strapped on the back! Having read several books relating to the FLDS, I knew the area was teeming with wrong-doing's and a general sense of ickiness, like a cold shiver that runs down your back. As we rode in, I spotted various compounds of mobile home communities against the hillside. We turned left into a neighborhood of sprawling mansions. Yes, MANSIONS! There were wings built for the growing number of wives and children. Dozens of childrens' bicycles littered the yards and various wives were outside watering or tending to the garden. I'm sure the husbands were out conquering the world. Yet oddly enough, all these mansions looked unfinished and still under construction. More on that later, I promise. I swear, when I spotted the first wife, I couldn't help but scream, "Oh my fucking god! Oh my fucking god!" inside my helmet. It's kind of like seeing a platypus for the first time. You know it exists. You know that they're out there, but you never really believe in its existence till you see it for the first time. Ya, kinda like that. I craved more.

We turned left back onto the highway and headed into the main area of town. We found the Mercantile in the center of town. Yes, the Mercantile. We parked the bikes in a slot and kind of sat back and watched. Vans and beat-up cars dotted the lot with a rare new car pulling in every so often. I assumed that the head wife was allowed the new ride. The women stared at us, half in fear, half with a desire for us to leave them alone. They wore the full dress, obviously hand-made, and were covered in long sleeves and jeans or pants under their dresses to cover their religious undies. Like "special underwear" are going to keep you from sinning and having sex! The hair was done in full frontal feather with a long braid trailing down the back. The shoes were large and quite clunky. The mother's cuddled their young offspring while the older children were back at the compound tending to the other kids. One of the funniest fucking things I saw was a female midget polyg woman. (I already know I'm goin' to hell, so I'm going to say what I want.) I swear, her braid was almost as long as she! One of the saddest, most vile things we saw was a pregnant teenage girl. Terry thought she was around 19 or 20. She was more like 15 or 16. And this probably wasn't her first child. Terry was shocked. I was completely speechless. We were outsiders in their bizarre world. We pretended to be there for a break in the ride, but they knew as well as we did that we were there to stare. We sure as hell didn't blend in! I did my best to capture a few digital memories without being noticed, but that was impossible. And we were noticed. And we were approached by one of the males.

While taking our helmets off for a breather (and a good stare), Terry found himself in the presence of one of the husbands who began commenting on our gear. He dared not speack to the woman in the group. He was more than friendly (and supremely odd) and asked where we were off to. Doing our best to be friendly and unassuming, we chatted with the suspicious male. We told him we were doing a loop around the area and were staying at Zion. He said that he, too, rode motorcycles (uh huh) and wore a bright jacket to be seen. It was a short and very unnerving "interview". After a couple of minutes and some water, we geared back up and boarded our bikes for another tour around the hood. We passed yards filled with children, at least 14. The boys wore their long sleeved, button-up shirts and the girls the traditional dresses and braids. Even the young sprouts wore the get-up. Some children are allowed to go to school, others are not. It depends on who is leading that particular sect at the time. After Warren Jeffs was named the new son of the prophet, he stopped the flow of any outside influences including TV, newpapers, toys and books. Anything that went against their teachings was banned. Hey, you can't lose any of the flock if they don't know how good it is outside the religious walls, right? Many of the young teenage boys were forced to leave the city as they were seen as a threat to the higher powers. Why should these 14 year old girls be forced to marry someone their own age when there's a perfectly good 80 year old man in the wings? Sick. Disgusting.

As we passed more houses and more families hanging around, I couldn't help but think about all the brainwashing that is done in the name of religion. The women and children (and the weaker males) are told they are the chosen one's and will be the only one's to go to heaven, as long they obey and stay sweet. Like the Mormon religion, they are to have at least 6 months of rations at the ready for when the world as we know it ends (maybe be only a couple of months for the Mormon's). This I have a very hard time believing. (Like I said in the beginning, turn your head if you don't want to read what I have to say.) Like Scientology, the Mormon religion is one of the newest religions to be recognized. Why is one able to do some creative writing, make up some loony proclamations and ideas, and call it a religion? Are there really that many people in search of a direction who are willing to believe almost anything? How about going out and searching for answers yourself instead of being told what you should believe? I'm not a fan of any organized religion. Can you tell? Any sect who asks you to give, give, GIVE while sitting in a magnificently expensive house of worship listening to a Cadillac-driving preacher tell them how they should live so they can get into heaven ahead of the rest of us is complete bullshit. I've had friends who were barely able to put food on the table and instead of the church saying, "Hey, we understand your predicament and will gladly help you get back on your feet as you've been giving to us for years." they were told, "You just need to learn how to budget better so you can still pay your tithing." What the FUCK is THAT about? You can't eat yet you're STILL expected to make the preacher's car payment?!? Call me a bitch. Call me a heartless asshole. But, I have a very hard time believing in any religion that still expects me to give till it hurts. And the idea of having food and water at the ready for when apocolypse happens is ludicrous. I don't have time to prepare for the end of civilization. There are too many cool things I have yet to do. And if I'm wrong, you don't have to share your rations with me.

So how do these people get their money? Well, Terry got the low-down from the locals in Springdale. First, their marriages aren't "real". The families get Medicare, food stamps and welfare from the state for each child. The wives are seen as single mothers. Second, many of the men own businesses that contract with the state. There are several polyg's in the state government that see to it the polyg companies get the contracts. Third, in the state of Arizona, as long as your house is still under contruction, you don't have to pay property taxes. Fourth, they are master grant writers. So, when the city needed new medical equipment, they studied the loopholes and began writing. They have the most state-of-the-art ambulance and medical services in the nation. Most contruction in the state of Utah is polyg labor. They can pretty much underbid any other company. These people are not stupid. They are conniving and defrauding the government. The men are raping young girls in the name of "religion" and the "prophet". They are being forced into a lifestyle they do not want all because they are told some pasty, skinny, foul white guy had a "vision" from the prophet. It's all bad. It's all vile. When you see it for yourself, you want to scream and grab every last child to try and save them from their future. But it's not a future. It's a sentence, one they did not choose. Some are fortunate enough to escape their sentence, others are too scared of the unknown. Remember, they are taught that the outside world is bad and they are the only good one's on earth. Hard to fathom, isn't it?

After many hours on the road, Jack was more than happy to hit the pool. Not a bad view from the sidelines, eh?

An exhausted Terry can still look good for a picture.

At the end of a long day, you can sleep in just about any position. Good night, sweet prince...

Road Trippin' 2008

Welcome to Zion National Park
aka Our New Favorite Place

Flora and Friends, Critters and Camp

This is going to be one of the few times that I will be a girl of a few words. I know, I KNOW, I tend to be a bit wordy (just a tad), but it's the only way I can convey/describe/spew forth what's rolling around in my brain. Those of you who know me well know this to be true...and then some... Having said (typed?) that, I'd really like to show you a shitload of pictures with some descriptions on the side. Though I do have one neat-o story about our first day in Zion.

So we really wanted to camp rightoff, but the weather was not cooperating (see previous post), we decided to spend a few days at the Best Western Inn in Springdale, approx. 1 1/2 miles from the park entrance. It was a great hotel complete with pool, hot tub and lots of climbers and foreigners making for vivid conversation. And because I/we were so, oh so exhausted from the first couple of days, my heart decided to go into A-Fib, aka Atrial Fibrillation. Nice. What does that mean exactly? Well, I'm tired, my heart feels a little thumpy, I drink something cold and BOOM!, my heart goes out of rhythm. And what do we do now, you may ask? Terry called the on-call doc (of course it happened on a Sunday and of course half of Utah is closed on Sunday), the on-call doc called a prescription into the big-ass WalMart in the town of Hurricane, about 40 minutes away...and they were going to close in about and hour. Fine. Okay, Jack outta the pool. Mama's needs her pills! So we loaded up into the Yukon and sped our way to Hurricane. And how fast were we going? Well, fast enough to get pulled over 5 minutes away from our destination. Yes, boys and girls, we were able to talk our way out of a ticket. When we explained our situation to the officer, he just shook his head and said, "Man, I HATE medical emergencies." Thanks again for letting us go. We got to the big-ass WalMart just in time. I got my meds and my heart got back in rhythm by the next morning. Moral of the story: Sleep is good.

So, onto the slide show...

We must always attempt and self-portrait. This one was the best of 3...imagine what the others looked like...

My kitchen for the next several days...notice the lack of shower facilities?

Our view from our shanty. Honestly, could you ask for a better view?

The shanty at night, complete with cooking fire.

The wildlife tended to be a bit grumpy in the morning, even though it got 11 hours sleep...

Okay, one more pic of our morning/evening view.

A late morning bike ride that turned into an early afternoon flat tire...and we had already used our spare tube. No worries, though, the scenery made for a nice walk back to camp.

The local extreme Utah Mormon or FDLS camp in the park. How many tents can you count?!? And I couldnt' fit the whole scene in one frame.

Jack made friends with 2 of the girls from the "extreme" camp. They were very, very cute with huge personalities. Every morning they appeared properly dressed, hair done in pigtails, bows and hairspray and non-camping clothes. They preferred to be called Steph and Stephanie as they had friend (or maybe she was a cousin, they confessed) who had that name. They dug so they used it. They honestly had no idea how many cousins they had or if they even were cousins. Ewwwww, so weird and icky... Their parents' made no attempt to say "Hey" or even introduce themselves. The "mom's" wore their hair up with curly tendrils and matching outfits. Ewwwww, again... When I camp, I ALWAYS wear curlers to bed :-)

Be aware that when buying alcohol in Utah, they lock it up on Sunday's...pleasant. You cannot make liquor that is over 5% alcohol in the state of Utah and all alcohol sold that is over 5% must bear a sticker like the one above. And you cannot remove it. Like HELL I can't! Don't force me to rip off my pillow tag, dammit!!! Goin' ta hell, straight ta hell!!!

Our friendly camp gopher who insisted on dragging every piece of weed into his nest. Had we been out in the wild, he woulda been dinner. I LOVE Survivorman!

One of many species of beetle we encountered in our camp site. It was beautifully colored in blues and black and quite large.

"And one day, I'll be a beautiful butterfly."

"Daddy, I want a squirrel. Not just any squirrel one of those squirrel's." Thanks, Veruca. (If you haven't seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, this joke is lost on you.)

Can you spot the 2 frogs? It was amazing to see such full bodies of water in these remote areas.

Can anyone please tell me WHAT the hell is this thing? It was quite prehistoric looking and very creepy. Anyone? Bueller?







Lizards were everywhere and probably considered the state bird. They were not scared of humans...and could have made for a great skewered dinner...

The local flora was abundant as we were fortunate enough to visit in the spring. It smelled of a spring garden wherever you roamed.


And you must meet Madelyn. She pierced her ears at 65 and decided to get a tattoo at 70. She and her husband were quite a hoot on the bus ride into the park. The tattoo looked so fresh I just had to ask about it (shocked, aren't you?). Loved chatting with her. Suggested maybe skydiving at 75. Any other ideas?

Road Trippin' 2008

Remember That Great Basin Weather Issue From Earlier?

Hey kids! Sitting here in hotel room enjoying some Peet's made with the JetBoil (Yes, I know the hotel has its own coffee and coffee maker, but you know it sucks!). Terry left at deer-thirty this morning for a 4 hour motorcycle dirt venture, Jack is beginning to stir, and I'd better spew forth some words before I'm hit by Hurricane Jack.

Saturday afternoon we took the motorcycles out for the maiden journey. We're only about 6 miles from the Nevada/Utah border, so we headed east to check things out. But before we left Great Basin N.P., we signed up to tour the Lehman Caves (You remember stalagmite's and stalactite's from school, right?) at 1PM. Now, if you think you're going to stock up on supplies at any of the small towns surrounding the park, you're are oh so sorely mistaken. The town of Baker resides at the base of Great Basin. There are a handful of homes, some with cars out front, some actually inhabited. There are several businesses that closed up shop years ago and no real industry to speak of. So you'd think that a town such as Baker would have the feeling of desperation. Not so. The people that live here are friendly, upbeat and stuck in 1985. The 2 business that are open (a store/restaurant/bar and coffee shop/bakery/4-cabin hotel) are home to some very proud people. The restaurant/bar seems to be the hub of the town as they were preparing some BBQ for the Saturday evening rush.

After crossing into Utah and back into Nevada, just to say we did it and for the photo-op, we headed back up the mountain for our Lehman Caves tour. While we waited for the tour to begin, Terry met a guy (driving a semi with a 5th wheel attached, KTM motorcycle strapped onto the back and a yellow lab as his co-pilot) who was from, you guessed it, Auburn! Small world. Chatted it up with him for a while until it was tour time. The inside of the caves were completely awesome. Tom, remember touring the Shasta caves? These have them beat by several miles. The entire tour lasted about 1 1/2 hours and was full of very cool sites. Our tour guide, however, was such an ODD little dude. He was for sure the love child of a Star Trek fan and the kid that got shoved into the locker in high school. He did try his best with the jokes, I'll give him that. There actually was a couple (dressed as cave-husband and wife - NO JOKE!) who lived in the caves in the early 1900's. Also, several weddings were performed inside as well as a Hollywood movie shot in one of the sections. If you're passing through, I highly recommend the tour...tell the quide we said "Live long and prosper".

We sat on the steps of the Visitor's Center after the tour and met yet another couple from the Tahoe area. They, too, rode motorcycles but were doing the mountain bike thing this trip. It's amazing how something like a motorcycle can link you to so many people that you'd never think to talk to. It's weird and I like it... And as we were on the steps taking a feeding frenzy break, I noticed a very menacing cloud looming over the mountain peak that was the back drop for our campsite. Hmmmmm.... "Uh, Terry, I think we'd better go back to our campsite NOW!" We threw our gear on, loaded up Jack, and headed into the great, black unknown. As we were riding the 3 miles to our campground, it began to rain. And then it began to snow. Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!?!? We all laughed just our of sheer disbelief. Against our bodies exhausting attempts at stopping us, we knew we were going to have to pack up and head out tonight. Damn! I really, really, REALLY don't want to pack up wet gear and leave. Our campsite was covered in a fresh layer of slushy snow. Fucking perfect. We began the packing process, shoving wet tents and chairs into their carrying cases and covering cooking gear with plastic bags. I knew the only way we were going to live through this without committing a murder/suicide was to stay calm and try to lighten the mood. Didn't work. I finally had to have a heart to heart with Terry. (Earlier in our trip, we promised each other that if the other was acting like a whiny brat, we would tell them to knock it off and stay in the moment, that moment being that we were away from home, on an adventure into the unknown and lots of things, good and bad, were going to happen. At least we weren't home doing laundry or dealing with employees.) I finally broke through the icy persona and we got everything shoved into the truck. Though a little soggy and a lot muddy, we made it out just before the next 'Cloud of Terror' passed over. We were fortunate we got out in time.

Where were we headed? Well, seeing as there's nothing, and I mean NOTHING, between Great Basin and Cedar City, Utah, we headed for Cedar City, one of the Mormon capitals of the world and just a motorcycle ride away from the polygamy town of Colorado City. We arrived in Cedar City around 10:30PM (add an hour for the time change) only to be awakened at 5:30AM by one of the 5 screaming children next door. I know, I know, I have a kid, too, but dammit, people, I gotta get some sleep!

And did we head into that cute little family environment of Colorado City where the men rule and the women sport those snappy little outfits? Later, my friends, later...

Moral of this day's events: Perspective is everything. Just when you think you're having a bad day, take a look at the guy in the wheelchair or the child going through chemo....how do you feel now? It's not so bad, is it? Cheers.

Some more pics for your viewing pleasure...

Inside one of the rooms in the Lehman Caves. In the 1800's, before the caves were lit and paths were laid, explorers to the caves had to crawl on their bellies with only a candle for light. These names on the ceiling were written using those candles, the carbon from the flame burning their names in the limestone forever. The orange that is starting to cover the names is actually a brand new bacteria that began to grow as a result of the carbon. It will eventually cover the entire ceiling of this cave.

I TOLD you it was snowing!!

Heavy sigh...

Road Trippin' 2008

More Pics For Your Viewing Pleasure

When the sign says "FREE RANGE CATTLE", they ain't kiddin...does that come with fries?

Just HAD to gather my own sample of the salt flat...way too tempting...

A vast expanse of white...and we'd like to thank the sky god's for the letter B in the Nevada sky.

Just some of the scenery along Highway 50 in Nevada.

Jack and I stretching our legs by climbing a huge pile of rocks in the teeny, tiny town of Austen, Nevada.

More very cool, very old petroglyphs.

When you tapped on the limestone, it had such a hollow sound. Looks are deceiving.

Did you notice the faces in the rocks from the previous post? Check 'em out again and let me know what you see. Anymore from this pic?

Jack is his 'Survivorman' gear, complete with boomerang to catch some dinner.

Couldn't resist taking a seat on natures bench.

The snow STILL hasn't melted in the lower elevation...okay, lower meaning around 3,600 feet.

Thought the sun looked stellar behind this limestone boulder.

Hey, Trina, can you find the lizard? Gizards ala Borden tonight. Enough butter and garlic and anythings tastes like chicken.

Remember me talking (Writing?) about Ely's local flava? This gem came complete with velcro sneakers.

We met the 3 dudes in front of us at a gas station in Eureka, Nevada. One of them was from New York and had been on the road since the middle of April...nice.

We settled near a stream in Great Basin. Jack decided it was high time he ventured across via logs to check out the snow that was still on the ground. Yes, snow. Yes, it was a little nipply at night.

Jack finishing his first roasted marshmallow of the year. Kinda reminds me of a certain Disney dwarf...

Terry saving us from a night of bitter cold. He found this termite ridden stump several yards from our campsite. He had to peel back the bark to release all the termites. All the holes in the stump did make for a very impressive site as the smoke gently rolled from each tiny cavern.

Can anyone spot the elephant icicle? Anyone? Bueller?