Wednesday – Gunnison to Moab via Grand Junction

Black Canyon of the Gunnison is an awesome area with sheer cliffs, broken rock and a tortured landscape.  The width of the canyon is not wide, nothing compared to the Grand Canyon, however its depth is comparable to what I saw at Toroweep on the North Rim.  It’s as if Mother Nature took a carving knife and slashed a gash into the earth.

When I arrived at the Canyon it was cool and windy.  The Ranger at the entrance suggested I camp at the bottom of the canyon next to the river.  Sheltered from the wind and with the rocks holding the days warmth it was perfect.  The switchbacks down to the river were also a treat.

Gordon’s classic dinner for one.

I had been up and rolling for 34 hours straight.  Once the camp was cleaned up and the the food stowed I went to bed.  It was 6 o’clock.  I wouldn’t even roll over until 6 a.m., 12 hours later.

Well rested, I packed up and walked down to the entrance to the tunnel that was constructed in 1909 to divert water from the river to the valley, some 6 plus miles through the canyon base.  The campground actually sits on the site of the old town that sprang up to support the workers as they lived and worked on site.

I rode up the switchbacks and proceeded down the South Rim Road.  This offered some incredible vantage points for seeing the canyon from the top looking down.

An amazing place.

I headed to Montrose, CO to fill up the bike and male some phone calls.  The bike was due for the 6K service and I needed a BMW dealer.  Grand Junction Harley Davidson (and BMW) was just over an hour away.  I made the phone call and they said they could get me right in.

The bike was done and I was back on the road by 1:30.  My original plan was to head back down south to Mese Verde.  I had called the ranger down there and was assured the campground would have sites available so it was a perfect plan.

That perfect plan began to get “adjusted” when the GPS routed me through Moab.  From the moment I realized what it had done I started talking myself into stopping there for the night knowing that if I did I would probably not make Mesa Verde at all this trip.  I blame the Moab Brewery for all of this.

Route 191 headed South into Moab.

I rolled through the center of Moab and pulled into the Canyonlands Campground (directly across the street from the Moab Brewery).  Sites were available and within an hour I was settled into a booth with a Dead Horse Ale in front of me.

Moab is an off-roaders paradise.  The campground was filled with old Broncos, Jeeps and motorcycles.  There is no hint of attitude when you walk in to a business covered in road grime smelling like you haven’t showered in days (it had only been 3 for me).

I love Moab.

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