Day 16: Paramount Peaks, Median Gravel, and College Move-In Madness
Yesterday was an incredible, high-mileage mountain marathon that dragged us through the ever-changing, multicolored geology of Utah and threw us straight into the steep alpine gaps of Colorado. It was a day of massive scenic payoffs, a couple of heart-stopping roadside hazards, and a wild logistical scramble for a warm bed at the end of the night.
The Morning Log: Screen Brightness Revelations
We woke up to a beautiful sunrise in Torrey, though the morning air was exceptionally windy and chilly as we loaded up the touring rigs. While we were packing, Pete was wrestling with the GPS map on his bike—the display kept rapidly glitching from bright to dark, and then dark to bright.
Suddenly, he stopped, stared at the console, and muttered, “Hey… ‘White.’ It’s in the settings.” We are on day 16 of this cross-country road trip, and he just now figured out that his infotainment screen has a manual day/night toggle to lighten and darken the display. We gave him a ton of grief for that one.
Screen finally calibrated, we pointed the front fairings down Highway 24 toward Capitol Reef National Park. We pulled off at the visitor center to stamp our Park Passports, snag a few commemorative stickers, and enjoy the red rock views. Traffic was beautifully light compared to our last run through here, making for a smooth, high-focus cruise.
The Ever-Changing Canvas of Route 70
We linked up with I-70 and stopped for a quick fuel splash. While filling the tanks, we struck up a conversation with a father and son traveling together. The dad didn’t even learn how to ride a motorcycle until he turned 70 years old, and now they’re out crushing long-distance miles together. I think that is absolutely awesome.
The highway miles across the state line were a visual masterclass in geology.
[ DESERT HIGHWAY VISUAL REPORT ]
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The Cinematic Peak: Off to our right, a massive, jagged mountain peak pierced the sky looking exactly like the Paramount Pictures movie logo, complete with stark white snow packed into its rocky layers.
The Divided Canvas: Further down the road, the formations split into a wild contrast. The right side of the highway featured a mountain stacked with 15 distinct shades of vibrant red rock. Directly across on the left, the ridges shifted into 15 different shades of deep gray.
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Between the jagged water-eroded canyons, massive tectonic uplifts pushed up from the valley floor, and rolling tan bluffs, the landscape was changing completely every few miles. We detoured over to Arches National Park to grab some more stickers and marvel at the impossible stone arches before jumping back on the gas.
Smoke Hazards and Median Gravel at 70 MPH
As we pushed further east, we started tracking a massive wildfire burning somewhere just off I-70. The smoke layer was thick, several secondary roads were completely closed down by emergency crews, and highway traffic was bottlenecking hard as everyone was forced to move over.
We cut away from the interstate chaos, navigating a massive chain of connecting routes: Highway 24 to I-70, down 191 to 46, onto 90, and slicing across to Colorado 141, 145, 62, and finally intercepting Highway 550—the legendary Million Dollar Highway.
Because of the wildfire detours and timing, we missed out on riding the famous, ultra-twisty “upper pretty” section of the pass, but we still got to carve up a solid stretch of the lower canyon before dropping back onto Highway 50, where the local traffic picked up heavily.
Passing slow-moving trucks through these mountain curves is always a challenge, and one particular encounter nearly turned disastrous:
Road Hazard Alert: Pete and I pulled out to pass a massive commercial truck in a designated passing zone. Right as we pulled alongside, the driver suddenly swerved directly into our lane, completely cutting us off and refusing to let us around. With oncoming traffic closing in, we were forced to drop the bikes into the center median to clear the lane. Out of absolutely nowhere, we hit a hidden, three-inch-deep trench of loose construction gravel while running 70 MPH. Wrestling a heavy, fully loaded Harley touring rig through deep gravel at highway speeds will wake you up faster than a triple shot of espresso.
Hearts in our throats, we recovered the traction, cleared the hazard, and pulled off just off Highway 141 in the small town of Naturita to let the adrenaline fade. Roger and I actually discovered this exact same small-town gas station on a trip years ago. They’ve since built a car wash on the property, so we parked our bikes right inside the shady wash bay, cracked open some cold Dr Peppers, and let the engines cool down.
The Move-In Scramble and Close Calls in Salida
By the time we rolled into Montrose, the trip served us a massive logistical curveball. Everyone pulled out their phones to track down a hotel room, only to find out it was the local college move-in day. Literally every single hotel, motel, and bed-and-breakfast for miles around was completely booked solid.
We checked a nearby campground, but they had zero functional shower facilities left open, and with the local overnight low forecasted to plummet to a freezing 48°F, bunkering down in light tents without a hot shower sounded miserable.
We kept meandering through the valleys trying to find a clear path out, at one point driving right past Columbine High School. We refused to stop, kept the wheels turning, and finally crossed the mountain passes into Salida, Colorado.
As we were finally pulling up to our hotel, a herd of deer suddenly leaped out of the dark and bolted directly across the blacktop in front of our fairings. Right behind us, a local pickup truck went into a wild, screeching swerve to miss them. There are crazy drivers everywhere you look out here.
Dinner at the Buzzer
After successfully checking into our rooms, we walked right next door to a local Mexican restaurant. The staff was literally turning off the open signs and fixing to close up for the night, but they took pity on our tired crew and let us in just under the buzzer.
We had an absolutely outstanding, heavy Mexican dinner, recounted the wild gravel slide from earlier in the afternoon, and made it safely back to the rooms. We are currently huddled over the maps, tracking weather reports, and planning out our mountain routes for tomorrow.
Next Stop: Pushing further east into the plains! Keep the shiny side up, watch out for the gravel, and keep the rubber side down.