Two Knobbys on the Frozen Burrito Tour: Colorado, Utah, Nevada

In September 2020, we strapped on our gear, fired up our trusty DRZs, and pointed them toward the high country of Colorado, Utah, and Nevada. The plan? Escape the late-summer heat, chase fall colors, and cover about 2,900 miles—mostly on dirt. Things didn’t always go according to plan, but that’s why we call it adventure. We explored new roads from low desert to alpine heights and back again, fueled by a steady diet of frozen burritos and a thirst for the unknown. Here’s how it went down.

Days 1-2: San Diego to Chino Valley, AZ – 400 Miles

We kicked off with a simple rhythm: ride, find shade, drink water, ride, eat, sleep, repeat. Leaving San Diego behind, we rolled through Blythe, CA, where we ditched the declining Best Western for a Hampton Inn. They hooked us up with a hot breakfast and bananas with little inspirational messages—cute, right? In Chino Valley, AZ, the Days Inn was fine, nothing fancy. Hotels everywhere had signs boasting about their COVID-era cleaning, but the maskless maids told a different story. Dinner? Frozen burritos from the grocery store. We weren’t risking restaurants this trip.

Day 3: Chino Valley to Page, AZ – 220 Miles

North on Hwy 89, then east on dirt Cr-71 near a cement plant, we hit a rocky stretch across high plains that climbed 2,500 feet into pine country. After Williams, we dipped into Coconino National Forest on sweet one-lane roads through the trees, skirted Flagstaff via rocky Shultz Pass Road, and rolled through a big burn area before hitting US 89 to Page. The Rodeway Inn there was adequate, though the missing smoke detector above the bed was a nice touch. Grocery store across the street? Perfect for burrito restocking.

Day 4: Page, AZ to Escalante, UT – 190 Miles (Should’ve Been 115)

This day tested us. From Page, we took Smokey Mountain Road toward Croton Road and Left Hand Collett, aiming for Hole-in-the-Rock. It started fast and wide through badlands and buttes, but recent rains had chewed up the edges. Croton got rough fast—steep, sketchy climbs and a bash plate’s best friend. Then it dropped into a canyon with a creek we’d have to cross repeatedly. With heat rising and no one around, I weighed the risks: washed-out tracks, low gas, low water, and the Mrs Knobby Corollary #1—If we die in the desert, The Hubby will never forgive me. We backtracked 40 miles to the highway, re-routed via Cottonwood Canyon Road (a prettier, easier ride), and landed in Escalante at the Prospector Inn. The mattress was a spring-loaded torture device—bath towels saved my back.

Day 5: Escalante to Bullfrog, UT – 125 Miles

Hells Backbone Road took us north into the mountains—washboarded but doable. We detoured to pretty Posey Lake, looped around a massive canyon, and crossed the famous bridge at its head. Burr Trail led us south to Notom Road, where Big Thompson Mesa Road got rough but delivered killer views near Brimhall Arch. Playing it safe (Mrs Knobby Corollary #1 again), we backtracked to Bullfrog Road and rolled into Lake Powell’s Rec Area. The Defiance House Lodge was nice but pricey—especially after buying passes we didn’t need. Sidewalks were well-watered, though.

Day 6: Bullfrog to Blanding, UT – 160 Miles (Should’ve Been 135)

Morning panic: the gas pump wouldn’t work. A trucker saved us by proving it was just my pump. Then, the ferry to cross Lake Powell wasn’t running—lesson learned: check schedules daily. We re-routed north on UT276 and UT95, skipping dirt Red Canyon and Radium King Roads. Fry Canyon’s Indian ruins were a highlight—tucked under an overhang, accessed by a sandy track. Fry Mesa Road climbed steeply to an old mine with views of Cheesebox Butte. In Blanding, the Super 8 smelled like curry in the lobby but had a big room—perfect for imaginary breakdancing.

Day 7: Blanding, UT to Cortez, CO – 155 Miles

North from Blanding, we climbed into Manti-La Sal National Forest, where fall colors exploded in the rain—Happy Happy Joy Joy! Dropping into the plains, we gassed up in Dove Creek (friendly dino included) and looped into San Juan National Forest. A lookout tower was a bust, but a fun two-track and a single-track detour kept things lively. In Cortez, the Best Western Turquoise Inn was quiet, with a weird courtyard layout.

Day 8: Cortez to Silverton, CO – 100 Miles

Highway northeast to Divide Road—a must-do if you haven’t. Smooth for seven miles, then rough and rutted, demanding peg time but rewarding with epic views. Lime Creek Road was a rocky slog—10 miles that felt like 20—but Andrews Lake was a gem. In Silverton, the Triangle Motel was dated but clutch: liquor store across the street, free ice, and solid pizza from the C-store.

Day 9: Silverton to Norwood, CO – 120 Miles

The plan was Lake City via Hurricane and Cinnamon Passes—old favorites from decades past. Hurricane started okay but turned into a steep, loose-rock nightmare at 11,800 feet. At 12,214 feet, we bailed—too many miles left to risk a tumble. Cinnamon was worse: a dusty zoo of side-by-sides and a sliding Subaru wagon. We retreated to Silverton, sour grapes in tow, and paved it to Norwood. The Hotel Norwood was comfy, no AC, and buggy without a window screen. The San Juans, once our playground, felt chewed up and crowded. Time to bid them farewell.

San Juan Reflections

Those mountains gave me my firsts: rocks, steep terrain, tough singletrack, water crossings, alpine tundra, elk, and meeting Malcolm Smith. From 1986 to 2006, we rode everything—Ophir, Black Bear, Engineer, you name it—with our fearless friend BP leading the charge. She planned it all with paper maps, no GPS, and zero cooking skills. Her ashes rest there now, a fitting end to her legend.

Day 10: Norwood, CO to Green River, UT – 165 Miles

Moab was packed, so we aimed for Green River. Hwy 145 to Naturita, then dirt into the La Sals past Buckeye Reservoir—a quiet climb through pines and basins. Moab’s chaos faded as we hit the old highway to Green River’s River Terrace Inn. Huge rooms, a toilet phone (why?), and a grocery store miles away. Solid spot.

Day 11: Green River to Price, UT – 117 Miles

Chimney Rock Road morphed from plains to gulches to buttes. A rough two-track up Little Cedar Mountain paid off with views of The Wedge and Manti-La Sal. Red Seep Road turned pink and overgrown, leading us to Cleveland Lloyd Dinosaur Quarry—free admission, score! In Price, the Legacy Inn was decent, with breakfast and a walkable grocery store.

Day 12: Price to Price – 120-Mile Loop

Whitmore Parks Road wandered through sage, hitting Nine Mile Canyon’s petroglyphs and homestead ruins. Cottonwood Canyon Road climbed a mesa past wild horses and microwave towers, dropping via silty switchbacks with old mining tramways. Back in Price, burritos awaited.

Day 13: Price to Manti – 118 Miles

West through sage and gas fields, the road twisted into canyons and hillsides with fall hints. Skyline Road was a dream—35 miles of ridge-top dirt with sheep and no crowds. Manti Country Village Motel was cozy, grocery store close.

Day 14: Manti to Cedar City – 175 Miles

A cold front killed our mountain plans. We paved it south, dodging burros and snapping quick pics. The Best Western in Cedar City was across from—you guessed it—a grocery store.

Day 15: Cedar City, UT to Caliente, NV – 130 Miles

Bumbleberry Springs Road climbed to 7,700 feet, then plunged into a steep, silty jeep trail—6 miles of relief when it ended. Pine Mountain Road wound through burns and sage to Clover Valley’s green fields and a restored LDS church. Along the UP RR tracks (totally legal, right?), we rode rough ballast and dark tunnels to Caliente’s Shady Motel. IPA to-go from the saloon capped it.

Day 16: Caliente to Boulder, NV – 166 Miles

South on NV317 through Elgin’s canyon, we took Carp & Rainbow Roads—50 lonely miles of rough desert to I-15. Lake Mead NRA was hot; we watered down and rolled into Boulder’s Sands Motel, a remodeled motor court perfect for burrito night.

Days 17-18: Boulder, NV to San Diego – 350 Miles

Pavement home: Mojave National Preserve’s dunes, then San Jacinto Mountains via Temecula. Heat skipped lunch, but home felt sweet.

Reflections

Three weeks, 2,900 miles, countless burritos. We saw new sights, ate on trails with views, and skipped restaurant hassles. The Hubby’s bike prep was flawless—no mechanicals. Best part? There’s still so much left to explore. Thanks for riding along.

The End.

If ever there was a way to test the resilience of man, machine, and questionable motel pillows, it’s a 5,845-mile romp across the Continental Divide and the Great Pacific Divide on a pair of stubborn Suzuki DR-Z400s. For 34 days, we chased the horizon like it owed us money, from the sun-scorched sands of Blythe to the crisp mountain air of Aspen, with Ouray’s scenery so picturesque it nearly apologized for the thin oxygen. South Fork offered the warm embrace of Four Seasons Lodge, though I suspect the fourth season was “mild regret.” Wyoming greeted us with winds strong enough to make a grown man reconsider his life choices, while Montana served up a cocktail of scenic bliss and enough bugs on the visor to qualify as a protein snack. The Pacific leg brought us to Washington’s forests, Oregon’s volcanic peaks, and California’s majestic highways, where the Suzukis, despite their usual stubbornness, performed admirably — possibly out of spite. By the time we sputtered into Banning, with every mile etched into our bones and every roadside diner menu committed to memory, we were equal parts exhausted and victorious. And while the motorcycles earned a well-deserved service, we settled for a strong cup of coffee and the smug satisfaction of knowing we’d conquered two divides — and most of the continental breakfast options along the way.

The Knobbys on a Utah Breakaway

June 2020 hit us like hungry bears clawing out of hibernation, itching to roam after months cooped up in California. State lines felt crossable without a drop-kick back home, so we fired up the DRZs for a 2,800-mile, 19-day breakaway through Arizona, a big Utah loop, and Nevada home. New-to-us backroads—remote, empty, and wild—beckoned: colorful deserts, lonely mountains, red rock vistas. Here’s how we broke free.

Day 1: San Diego to Parker, AZ – 265 Miles

A 120°F forecast delayed us—Death Valley blushed. We launched at a survivable 111°F, climbing to 4,000 feet west of Borrego Springs, layering up, then shedding fast in 100°F Borrego. Pablito’s Mexican takeout patio debut—masked waitress, plastic cups, propped-open bathrooms—felt safe-ish, our first meal out all year. Pavement ruled, spiced with dirt and old highway near I-10. Two 12-ounce thermoses of ice water? Desert gold. Parker’s boater-packed weekend jacked hotel rates; Quality Inn sufficed. Crossroads Cafe’s unmasked, loud-talking waitress jolted us—boisterous boaters at a 10-top ignored distancing signs. Naive Californians, we’d learn: signs meant squat here.

Day 2: Parker, AZ to Wikieup, AZ – 180 Miles

Hotel breakfasts tanked—muffin, apple, done. We snagged nuts and snacks, hit Shea Road east, zigzagging toward Planet Ranch on gravel that deepened to rocks. A 10-padlock gate blocked our Bill Williams River crossing—depth unknown, plan scrapped. Ruins taunted us; a 70-mile detour looped us back through Parker, north on Hwy 95 and I-40. Parker Dam Diner’s 70-plus crowd, including an 80-something owner chatting mid-room, scoffed at “vulnerable” labels. A “closed” bathroom sign was a toilet paper ruse—go figure. Dirt Alamo Road arrowed southeast past beehives; Chicken Springs Road’s Joshua Tree forest climbed to 4,000 feet. Wikieup’s lone motel—four rooms behind a gas station—was decent. Maskless pizza joint leftovers iced for breakfast.

Day 3: Wikieup, AZ to Kingman, AZ – 100 Miles

Sycamore Creek, a bucket-list gem, shone. South on Hwy 93, Burro Creek Crossing Road climbed east—rough, narrow, rocky washouts. A cattle guard sported rope and plastic bags (why?). Goodwin Mesa’s lone ranch led through a bull-filled lot—horsewoman’s nod kept us rolling. A fast, bladed road hit 5,600 feet, vistas sprawling, three houses in 40 miles. Cane Springs Road’s rollercoaster ridges rocked the Hualapais—no vehicles all day. Kingman’s Denny’s hosted a tank-toting elder; Best Western Wayfarer’s Inn delivered. Mexican dinner ditched distancing as tables filled—kids, grandparents, fearless.

Day 4: Kingman to Flagstaff, AZ – 230 Miles

Hot breakfast fueled us for Hualapai foothills pavement, then dirt south of I-40—old highway vibes. North, cattle ranches stretched wide, empty. Route 66 through Hualapai Reservation was guarded—roads blocked, outsiders barred. Seligman’s Westside Cafe fed us; a motorized bike nut nearly clipped me. Ash Fork’s rocky forest roads—quarry leftovers—smoothed out to Williams. Beale Wagon Road’s history and San Francisco Peaks views led to two-tracks—rocky, gated, elk-spooking. Late doubts faded on a better road to Flagstaff’s Best Western Pony Soldier Inn. Corporate masks and plexiglass faltered; Golden Dragon takeout never fails.

Day 5: Flagstaff to Page, AZ – 160 Miles

Pre-cooked omelets puzzled us—why not everywhere? Hwy 180’s forest and range hit construction; empty dirt roads delivered peaks, cinder cones, lava flows. Cameron’s gas came sans lunch—closed cafes, demon-chasing dogs. Hwy 89 slogged; Copper Mine Road’s quieter scenery won. Page’s Best Western overlooked the river; Mexican dinner lost its waiter—staff hunted the check.

Day 6: Page, AZ to Escalante, UT – 120 Miles

Apple and muffin breakfast flopped. McDonald’s drive-thru shunned walk-ups—bike shuffle, curbside coffee kludge worked. Cottonwood Canyon Road’s dirt crossed desert hills, dropping to Paria River’s pink Grand Staircase views. Tropic’s gas and lunch flowed with carefree families. Escalante’s Circle D Motel sagged—Prospector Inn next time. Dinner and drinks shrugged off masks, sorta distanced.

Day 7: Escalante to Hanksville, UT – 155 Miles

Egg bagel patio bliss kicked us to Hwy 12 and Burr Trail. A sandy two-track detour hit three arches—worth it. Notom Road’s colors paved up leaving Capitol Reef; Eggnog Star Road (why?) and Hoskinnini Road climbed rough to a Mt. Hillers gap—burn scars, fenced springs, one steep pitch. A creek trailed to Lone Cedar Road’s Little Egypt Hoodoos—wind and heat nixed more pics. Hanksville’s dust clouds greeted Whispering Sands Motel and Duke’s Slickrock Grill solitude.

Day 8: Hanksville to Green River, UT – 100 Miles (90% Dirt)

Microwaved burritos launched us north on UT 24 to Blackburn Wash Road—sandy two-tracks rolled 30 empty miles past canyons and ridges. Lower San Rafael Road hit Canyonlands Overlook; 45 mph tailwinds stalled airflow—crosswinds later spun dust devils. Green River overlooks awed; lunch hid from wind behind boulders—futile. Comfort Inn hosted a tire nail scare; Tamarisk Restaurant’s river view soothed.

Day 9: Green River to Price, UT – 125 Miles

Old state highway dropped through badlands—RV-sized rocks—then Hatts Ranch Bypass hugged uplifted walls, ours alone. Tidwell Bottoms’ sandy two-track startled a camper mid-relief. Black Dragon Canyon’s jeep road dipped in and out—steep, loose climbs, sandy stretches, a visual feast. Buckhorn Draw Road’s pictographs passed; Huntington’s Lamy’s burritos overflowed to Price’s Legacy Inn. JB’s dinner ignored pandemic vibes.

Day 10: Price to Ferron, UT – 130 Miles

Waffle-ready breakfast stayed in-room. Spring Glen’s Slovenian cemetery—coal graves, KKK land twist—intrigued my roots. Oil-glut railcars sat; a steep, slick creek climb sprayed gravel. Cattle roundups slowed us; Horse Bench vistas opened. A washed-out shelf road dared us—Hubby charged, I followed. Castle Dale’s Subway sidewalk lunch led to Red Ledges Arch—sandy washes, rocky rolls, a drivable span. Ferron’s Gilly’s Big Mtn Motel pizza fueled us.

Day 11: Ferron to Hanksville, UT

Backroads south hit Moore’s windy pictographs, Emery’s gas, and Miller’s Canyon Road to Last Chance Desert—mesas, dripping springs. Capitol Reef’s Caineville Wash Road fought us with rutted silt—bicyclist kids soldiered on. Red Desert’s basin awed; Blue Valley’s ghost cemetery stared at Steamboat Pt’s dust wall—retreat. Hanksville’s Stan’s Burger Shack mop-boy sulked.

Day 12: Hanksville to Torrey, UT – 100 Miles

Burritos, then Henry Mountains—wide desert to narrow, rough climbs, creek crossings, pines. Wikiup Pass’s Copper Ridge Road dropped steep and rocky—stunning Capitol Reef views. Oak Creek Canyon’s jeep trail turned technical—4Runner retreat signaled ours. Notom’s cemetery scorpion stone puzzled. Torrey’s La Cueva fajitas and Austin’s Chuckwagon Lodge won.

Day 13: Torrey to Richfield, UT – 125 Miles

Fish Hatchery Road hit Big Rocks OHV’s open plains, dropping to Koosharem’s gas. Burrville’s backroad climbed Fishlake National Forest—rutted Rex Reservoir paid off with scenery. Salina’s El Mexicano buzzed with spur-clad families; Richfield’s Quality Inn dinner flopped—raw chicken redo.

Day 14: Richfield to Panguitch, UT – 105 Miles

Elsinore’s Scandinavian cemetery charmed; dirt south of Monroe weaved foothills. Marysvale’s hilltop graves and Sevier River track climbed to Junction’s gas. Circleville’s junk-strewn road flatted my tire—barn shade, farmer’s grace aided Mr Knobby's’s fix. Polygamist cafe lunch fueled a rocky Fremont Trail climb—9,000-foot aspens, loose descent. Panguitch’s Purple Sage Motel sagged; Kenny Rays’ employee-only salad bar fed us.

Day 15: Panguitch, UT to Mesquite, NV – 200 Miles

Tire chores: wheel prop, axle shove—ouch, wimp. Fires nixed Grand Canyon; Alton’s green valleys rolled east. Kanab’s Nedras patio lunch preceded a hot pavement slog—water douses kept us sane. Mesquite landed us.

Day 16: Mesquite to West Las Vegas, NV – 140 Miles

Early foothills paralleled I-15 to Moapa’s drinks. Mormon Wells Road’s rocky two-track rattled us over 6,500 feet—remote, relentless, worth it once. Hwy 95 and beltway eased us to a Mexican grill; a van-dweller dubbed me “hardest looking woman” he’d seen—dual-sport granny cred. Hampton Red Rock Inn and nearby Mexican dinner shone.

Day 17: Las Vegas to Big Bear, CA – 230 Miles

Red Rock Canyon NCA’s colors dodged heat; Potosi Pass Road’s gravel turned rough—wash rocks nearly toppled me. Kingston Road’s powerline detour tempted—next time. Sandy Valley to pavement hit Big Bear’s dated Best Western Plus Chateau. Sizzler’s plastic-shrouded cashier strained to hear.

Day 18: Big Bear to Idyllwild, CA – 120 Miles

Hot breakfast launched Sand Canyon and Wildhorse Meadow Roads—rock-strewn forest to Hwy 38’s twisties. Beaumont cafe lunch fueled Hwy 243’s 25-mile swoop to Idyllwild. A slippery control road dropped 3,000 feet—Hemet views. Bunkhouse’s rustic shell hid a termite-riddled dump—never again.

Day 19: Idyllwild to San Diego – 230 Miles

Hwy 74’s twisty valleys and construction rolled us home—new roads, bucket-list checks, 2,800 miles of freedom. Bears unleashed, world weird, we roamed happy. Thanks for riding along.

The End.