Day 2 Continued…Caves!

Wondering if I can use Apple notes to compose WordPress blogs whilst I have no internet access. 

The answer is no. I’m sitting on the porch of this overpriced motel. I need to recap day 2 before I forget it all! It Already feels like I’ve been on the road a week! My brain is fried.
So, Sunday afternoon, after the Baker, NV food debacle, I head out to Lehman’s Cave. I have reservations for the 2pm tour. This gives me a couple hours to dick around, and, if the info the park ranger stationed at the visitor center in town is correct, there should be a cafe at the cave’s visitor center. Not sure if this is reality or not, but when I relayed my story to the park ranger, she kinda confirmed that the locals are rather douchey. Is this a case of Tea Bagger rural Nevadans being dicks to the park employees because they work for the federal government? Wouldn’t surprise me. 

I pull into the park after a 12 mile ride up from the town that hates me. Inside is the most glorious little restaurant, and it’s fucking open.

I was so angry and annoyed just 20 minutes before. My mood improved exponentially when this arrived…

And followed by…

Yes, my hands were filthy, even after I washed my hands. The results of riding the bike for hours without gloves. It’s was a better meal than it had any right to be. I was in a happy place now. 
Sitting next me were a couple of computer engineers yammering about gun rights and the crazy ammosexuals. I smiled knowing I wasn’t the only non-radical white guy in the park. 
After finishing up my last, most perfect, cup of Joe, I bought a sticker for the bike! A much needed addition to the Kawasaki.

And so the Lehman’s Cave tour starts. More people out here than I would’ve expected. The guide seemed to be stumped by the questions some of these people were asking. Apparently a few of them were avid cavers and knew more about geology than she did.

It was really quite cold in the cave. A pleasant change of pace from the blazing hell that was most of my ride through Nevada. 

I leave Great Basin around 4:30. So much road to cover. At 5:40 I finally cross into Utah!

There’s a time change somewhere along the way. I hit Milford around 7:30pm. Thought I’d be cute and take a snarky picture of a church, you know, because it’s Utah. 

I pulled the bike over, threw down the kickstand and started to take the photo. At that time I feel the KLR pushing me. Wtf?! The kickstand wasn’t fully deployed and the fat pig was starting to fall. I caught it before it reached the point of no return. Damn she’s heavy. I threw down the kickstand properly, this time. Took a couple of classy photos of the church, and then hopped on the bike. I go to push up the kickstand and nothing happens. The kickstand will not move. It would appear that I parked the bike on a strange incline on the side of the road, and I could not kick it off the damn stand. I needed to lean the bike further to the other side in order to get the fucker up. Problem was that the shoulder of the road was also at an odd angle. I could tilt too far or I’d lose the bike that way. I’m sweating like a whore in church at this point. Down the road a few houses, a family is in their front yard staring at me. No one makes a move to try to help me. I grunt and swear and struggle. Just as one of the kids starts to come towards me, I get the bike off the stand. I wave, give the universal shrug that says “I’m a dumbass” and hightail it out of Milford. I am learning that no good day goes unpunished.

I need to get to St George, damnit. Otherwise my schedule is screwed again. 

To be continued…I hope. 


About heartajack

I'm a graphic designer and occasional filmmaker that recently discovered the awesomeness that is the Can-Am Spyder Roadster. In recent years I've become obsessed with food and learning how to prepare it. I make the best damn ribs...EVER.
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