The latest harvest...

I didn't get to go riding last weekend (weather and insomnia conspired against me), but here's a bit of that Utah bounty I've been raving about. The pictures aren't great, but you'll get the point anyway.

I canned this "lug" of apricots to console myself when not being able to ride on my day off. I ended up with 11 quarts. Really, I would have had 12 quarts if I hadn't eaten so many in the process. There's that "dreary student apartment" in the background.



I picked about 10 quarts of strawberries from my colleague's garden earlier this month.



Many of those berries became preserves. Man oh man they are good!



Of course, we had to save some berries for strawberry short cake, courtesy of my roommate Nadine. That's a bit of cardamom sprinkled on the top. Nadine serves a generous portion!

In Search of the World's Best Water

Okay, I might be exaggerating, but then again, maybe not. It is true that the naturally carbonated spring water in Soda Springs, ID took first prize in the World Fair in Chicago in 1893, and again in Paris in 1905. If you go to Hooper Spring Park in Soda Springs, you can taste it yourself, for free. I did just that, and it's just as good or better than that you can buy, and infinitely more rewarding since I rode 100 miles, and hiked almost 2 miles one way to have the pleasure of dipping my cup in a happily bubbling pool of cool clear fizzy water. You can see and hear it bubble yourself below. Just screen out the chatter of the other tourists:

Here's "the world's largest captive geyser" (???) at Geyser Park in Soda Springs. I guess it's considered "captive" because it's controlled by a timer now, which is set to allow the geyser to spout once an hour on the hour. I arrived just at spouting time, and had to hastily abandon my lunch sack in the middle of the parking lot to rush over and take pictures.




I brought some water home with me. The bottle is in the fridge and when I open it, it gives a very satisfying "psssht"!

Utah: Pictures, instead of my 1000 words

Sheesh, all that talk about Utah in my last post, and so few pics. Here are some more at one reader's request.

Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake

A BMW K1200 RS (fondly known as "the Super K" - no, it's not mine) resting quietly on the strange and mysterious Bonneville Salt Flats

Sunset from the afore-mentioned "dreary student apartments." Life is rough, huh?

Flaming Gorge National Recreation area. This picture is from inside the Visitors' Center! The colors aren't what they could be, it was an overcast drizzly day.

Hogsback Ridge on Highway 12

The Fremont River from Fish Lake Road (one of the many Glorious Motorcycle Roads).


Larb Hollow Overlook from Highway 12



Lake Solitute at the end of the Cascade Canyon Trail in Grand Teton National Park. Yes, technically this is Wyoming, not Utah, but for my purposes, "Utah" constitutes the actual state plus anywhere else I go while I'm living here for the summer.


In and around Sawtooth National Recreation Area (I know, it's in Idaho, not Utah - see the above note regarding Grand Tetons)
Stanley Lake Inlet Campground, a moose noted on the way home, Sawtooth Lake




My pictures of Capitol Reef aren't great, but here I am at the "Hickman Bridge" rock formation.

Utah: The Land of Milk, Honey, and Glorious, Glorious Motorcycle Roads

Each summer, the several hundred people that comprise the Utah Festival Opera Company travel from all ends of the US and beyond and joyfully agree to be overworked, underpaid, and housed in dreary student apartments for the privilege of spending two months making exquisite music amidst what must be the most beautiful and bountiful place on earth. I am one of those lucky, lucky people. You'd think by my sixth year here, I'd be a bit blase about the whole thing, but I never fail to be stunned on my drive from Tucson to Logan. Every shade of green, from the mysterious dusky color of pines, to grass so luscious I want to get on all fours and join the livestock in their serene grazing, to the magic silvery blue green of sage bush (my personal favorite) is represented in nearly every vista. The mountains and canyons range from brilliant reds and oranges to a lovely coral pink (again, my personal favorite), mixed with all the wonderful aforementioned greens. All this, and snow-capped mountains, too. And the water - some of it is so blue it's just plain freakish. Take Bear Lake, on the opposite end of the Logan Canyon Scenic Byway from Logan. The lake is hidden from view until you crest the final hill, and - RazzleBlueDazzle! - there it is - a total traffic hazard. There should be a warning sign. The lake is so big, and so electrically turquoise blue that, if it doesn't stop you in your tracks every time, there is seriously something wrong with you. If that's just too unnatural for you, there are plenty of glassy steel bluish green ponds and streams for you to gaze upon. This is the kind of landscape that makes such silly phrases as "this great country of ours" pop into your head and ring true.

I think I've made my point that Utah is beautiful. Now on to its bounty. It's hard to visit the Cache Valley Gardener's Market without at least one tear of joy slipping down my face. Unlike many markets I've seen in this country, this one actually features, gasp!, food! This week I came home with all sorts of succulent greens, new potatoes, sweet spring onions, garlic scapes, garlic and rosemary lamb (yes, local and pastured) sausages, eggs (local and pastured with day-glo colored yolks) and, the big treat - strawberries. These berries are what all other strawberries wish they could be. How can I describe the taste? I can't. So I won't. You're on your own for that one. Good luck. I look forward to further purchases, including honey (they even have the bees in a little enclosed glass hive for you to view), cheeses of all sorts, grass-fed beef, fresh cut flowers, and more fruit. This year I've joined a CSA at the market, and for an embarrassingly small sum, I bring home my portion of the Craft Farms weekly harvest. If I had to pick the crown jewel, it would have to be the fruit. There's actually a 10 mile stretch of US 89 designated as Utah's Historic "Fruitway." Strawberries, cherries, plums, apricots, blackberries, raspberries - each one being the very model from which all others should be (but, alas, are not) created. Last summer I canned jars and jars of the stuff, and enjoyed my bottled sunshine all year long. The jars returned with me this year, and are eagerly awaiting refilling. If you're not the sort that deals with the actual preparation of food, and only the eating of it, there are plenty of options here in Logan. Most notable are Le Nonne (Italian), Happy Sushi, Indian Oven (sadly moved from its gas station beginnings next door to my apartment to an official restaurant setting a whopping five minute drive away), La Ranchera Market (home of excellent $1 tacos), Aggie Ice Cream (home made ice cream just a short pleasant stroll away). All of these are really fine representatives of their cuisines - fine enough to more than please all the big city palates that form the UFOC. Opera folks are known for their appreciation of good food.

All of this, and I still haven't said one word about motorcycling. Utah is just crisscrossed with designated scenic byways, national forests, twisty mountain roads, national parks - all the features that make you think that God must be a sport touring motorcyclist. Seriously, it's that good. My little 130 mile "I-gotta-get-out-on-the-bike-but-still-must-get-some-serious-work-done-today" loop is comprised of the Logan Canyon Scenic Byway, the Oregon Trail-Bear Lake Scenic Byway, US 36 through Strawberry Canyon and a small part of the Pioneer Historic Byway (to be fair, some of this ride is in Idaho). Ho Hum. All this just outside my door. If I have the time to go further (I always have the inclination) there's the Mirror Lake Scenic Byway in the Uinta Mountains, Highway 226, a little secret happened upon a few years ago, and that motorcycle mecca called Highway 12 (perhaps only rivaled by AZ 191, but that is for an entirely different post). If you find yourself in Torrey, UT on Highway 12, beg, borrow or steal the money for a meal at Cafe Diablo. There's excellent "tall food" (i.e. - fancily presented, often in tall intricately built forms) to be had there. I particularly recall the Rattlesnake Cakes appetizer. All within striking distance, if one has a few days, are the Grand Tetons, Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, Dinosaur National Monument, Sawtooth National Recreation Area, Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park, Craters of the Moon National Monument and more. It's that just ridiculous? Not coincidentally, the way from Logan to all these wonderful places happens to be paved with more, glorious, truly glorious motorcycle roads.

Don't even get me started about the hiking here...

Riding and Eating in an Organized Fashion

I went for my first "organized" ride last today. By that, I mean, I rode with a group of people, with a set route and destination. Destination: (no mystery here, folks) a restaurant; Route: Scenic AZ 83. I have to say, I almost always ride by myself, (I can count the exceptions on one hand, not counting riding as a passenger) and I prefer it that way. "Ride your own ride," they say, even when in a group, but I like to take that phrase literally. So I was a little unsure of whether or not I would actually enjoy an organized ride. I've also been chomping at the bit, having had little riding time lately, and was more in the mood to tear up the road, rather than ride along at a more, um, legal pace. I'm not saying I always race around - I'm all for smelling the roses - but hey, today that's what I was feeling.

As it turns out, I quite enjoy riding with a gang of women graduates of the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Basic Rider Course, two of its instructors, and one instructor's daughter. We had riders of all experience levels and all varieties of bikes. One gal even followed us in her car! She doesn't have her own bike yet, but being female and and having just taken the MSF BRC she meets the other requirements, so why not? We gathered at a gas station on the fringes of town, made some introductions, formulated the plan, and after a brief review of the protocols of group riding (of which there are many), departed.

Our restaurant destination was the Crossroads Cafe in Sonoita, AZ. I enjoyed the French Toast Special, layered with a raspberry sauce and creme anglaise, even though it was a bit too cold. It was nice to see a reasonable tidy portion size, and prettily presented, too. The ginger iced tea, I was sorry to find, was sweetened. Why not let the diner decide on that point? The conversation was lively, and exclusively about - can you guess? - our motorcycles. I suppose it is a bit odd to spend lunch with all these ladies and not even learn what they do for a living, but it made perfect sense at the time. That's just what happens when you put a group of people with a shared passion around the dinner table.

Just as riding of the front of the moto doesn't replace riding on the back for (ditto for the reverse), group riding and riding solo are apples and oranges. It's always nice to have a variety of fruit in the basket. Besides, I had a spicy solo ride up Mt. Lemmon "on my way home." ;-)

While I'm out riding, my dog likes to eat!

Due to popular demand, I'm posting this video of my dog trying to get into the trash. She's pretty spunky for 12 years old, isn't she? The extra latch on the door in the video is the 2nd of three. She quickly defeated the first two. The current deadbolt type locks (not shown) are still holding, but only when I actually remember to latch them.
Do notice that you can hear the front door close as I leave, and she is instantly on the move. There's a bit of dead space in the movie, when she's wandering around other parts of the house (confirming my absence, no doubt). I'd like to edit it out, but, of course, my movie editing program won't open the original video file. In any case, if you're patient enough to watch to the end, you'll see when it seems she knows she's been caught.