Burning Up the Burr Trail
Yesterday, riding buddy Steve had a head of steam to do the Burr Trail from Boulder down to Bullfrog Landing on Lake Powell. Actually, Bullfrog Landing USED to be on Lake Powell and now its on some small broadening of the Colorado River in Glen Canyon that used to be Lake Powell. Lake Powell was formed in 1972 by the Federal government deciding that they needed to dam the Colorado River again to form a large reservoir that has served as a major recreation area for several state’s worth of residents. It was probably made most famous by Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee going viral with their now-infamous sex tape in 1997 aboard their rented houseboat. We all like to think of ourselves as either Tommy Lee or Pamela Anderson, but chances are there are few, if any, similarities (especially between Kevin, Little Rubio and Tommy Lee).
The Burr Trail is a wonderful old path that leads through some beautiful Southern Utah countryside, with the advantage that, unlike on the road and more so on the highway, the scenery is up close and personal. On the Burr Trail, you are in the scenery and actually a part of it. The first thirty miles of the Burr Trail are paved, but the track is still about a one-car width so it’s intentionally and nicely slow-going. Since Steve wanted to do the Trail and he seemed to know it so well and even had an official map of it (I have ridden it only once in the past twenty-six years), I let Steve lead and I took up the sweeper position at the rear of the pack of nine motorcycles. Riding sweeper is a unique and interesting experience all by itself. I find its a good thing to do once in a while, especially when there are new riders in the group, since it gives me a chance to observe and note the riding styles of everyone in the pack. I know most of the riders from years of trips, but I positioned myself at the rear, right behind the three new riders, Eric, Eric and….Eric (actually Jim, but Daryl, Daryl and Daryl is too hard to resist).
Our A.F.M.C. group always had an abundance of Bob’s. I think we maxed out at eight (Chicago, Santa Barbara, Capistrano, Calgary, Seattle, Vermont, Virginia and Gator), but that is quickly being displaced by the new Eric Syndrome. The problem is that we need to find a different differentiator since the two new Eric’s are both from Chicago, the land that Kevin forgot.
So, we wended our way down the Burr Trail towards Lake Powell, enjoying everything that is great about Southern Utah, and doing it at 30 m.p.h. so as to miss nothing. As I watched the other eight bikes snake their way around the curves, it occurred to me that this road surface was perfect. Unlike the parts of Rt. 24, Rt. 95 and even Rt. 12 that have suffered from frost heaves and had those cracks tarred by the state road crews, these roads had no road snakes (sometimes called tar snakes). Those bastards are a real nuisance to motorcyclists, especially ones with their tires fully inflated. Hit a tar snake lengthwise in the early morning and you feel a slight wiggle of the rear tire. Hit a tar snake lengthwise in the warmth of the afternoon and then do it on a curve where you are healed over to groove with the physics of the turn, and you can find yourself in an unexpected panic swerve that will either wake you up or put you in the ditch as you over-correct. I hate tar snakes, but I love watching the snaking of the crew on the ever-so-smooth Burr Trail.
But the Burr Trail has many faces. After that first thirty miles, we got to the dirt road part of the trail. There had been lots of discussion the night before about how long the dirt patch would be. The range of estimates was from 5 to 14 miles and ended up being 8.5 miles. The dirt track is no issue, but a great deal of caution is required on what are about ten switchbacks down the mesa to get to the Lake Powell elevation. We’ve ridden the Moki Dugway down by Mexican Hat many times, but that seems somehow more wide-open that the Burr Trail Cenote. Both simply require attention to detail, but you can also find yourself getting an elevated heart rate if you glance over the edge.
We thought that would be the end of the excitement on the Burr Trail, but after a few miles of asphalt we learned otherwise. We were riding along at about 60 m.p.h. (In a 30 m.p.h. Zone) when suddenly the nice smooth (no tar snakes) asphalt turns into something else that feels a lot less stable. We haven’t figured out what it was, but it was some hybrid of tarmac and pebbles. That’s right, what we started calling ball bearings on a marble floor. Everyone was fishtailing on this stuff (I could watch all of this from the sweeper position, even though Kevin had nicely and wisely dropped back behind me to make up for my relative inexperience in off-road riding). Every once in a while there would be an extra pile of the pebbles, just to keep us on our toes. In some ways this was worse than the dirt track since it went on for twenty more miles and we somehow felt we should be riding faster on it. It all meant that when we arrived at Bullfrog Landing, we were all feeling intense relief at being back on real asphalt.
The memories of A.F.M.C. Members are all going. All it took was a simple, but nice lunch overlooking where there used to be Lake, to have four of the members forget about the challenge of the Burr Trail. When we departed to head back to the ranch (literally), half the group chose to take Rt. 276, a nice paved full-fledged road that takes us through Hanksville, while the other half decided they wanted to go up the Notom road, which is all dirt and leaves you in the middle of Capital Reefs. Some challenges were cast down like gauntlets and it was game-on. I am proud to report that the asphalt crew beat the dirt crew by about 20 minutes despite the route being about 14 miles longer. Some like dirt and others prefer the tarmac. There is plenty of room for both on the Burr Trail.