It started off accidentally, almost. I had been contemplating riding out to Springerville, AZ and catch a little ride down AZ 191 which is reportedly some of the best canyon carving in AZ. Much to my surprise one of my younger shop mates was willing to take me up on the offer. The ride I had planned was to be 730 +/-, something I would of once thought nothing of. However, since the events of 2007, my endurance wings have been clipped a bit. To my surprise my young friend took me up on the challenge, so a Saturday morning ride was on.
Scheduled time was to have rubber on the road by 7AM and to his credit he was ready to roll with emergency water bottles packed, etc. We headed out for the 45 minute drive just to escape Phoenix. Beyond that we head north east on AZ 60 AKA the Superstition Highway. We were vaguely headed for the time and place where the Devils Highway run was supposed be begin that day out of Springerville, AZ.
There was some weather predicted but it was supposed to stay west of Flagstaff, not anywhere near the New Mexico border in which direction we were spinnig our wheels rapidly. North of Globe we had just carved our way through a series of worthy twisties.
However, we unexpectdedly found the skies turn foreboding and the dusty smelling wind rise around us.
Looking east on AZ 60 towards Springerville:So close and yet so far.
Out of nowhere it felt like we were getting shot at with a rapid fire BB gun. I looked down to see pee size pellets forming on my riding jacket. Behind me my young partner was ducked down as far as he could get behind his tiny windscreen shielding himself with his non-throttle arm as best as he could.
Fortunately the riding gods were with us that day and we soon found shelter at a little mom and pop general store in Vernon, AZ. For the budget conscious and somewhat taken aback traveler it proved to be a perfect stop. A kindly lady with a long silver braid greeted us and sold us some hot pockets and soda. She also let us consult her atlas which was a good supplement to the adequate but not extremely detailed map of Arizona we were already carrying.
A moto-friendly oasis in a suddenly hostile desert.
The weather conditions were changing rapidly and I could not see clearly what was trending on the small screen of my Blackberry. Fortunately my wife was home with access to bigger screens and better radar maps. My companion and I spent of hour of back and forth indecision before deciding we should head back but by a slightly different route than we had come.
Heading back from Vernon we had decided to catch AZ160 north west which would put us on a circuitous route back towards Phoenix. Unfortunately, being in the lead I took the first exit for 160 which actually took us back in the general direction we had just come.
30 Miles later we pulled off in the woods in the middle of nowhere and took a location with the Blackberry. At that point it was decided we had come to far to return to Show Low and the best course of action seemed to retrace our steps back to AZ 73, an unknown, which would put us back at AZ 60 at Carrizzo.
That turned out to be a fortuitous decision because AZ 73 turned out to be deserted and wonderfully well-maintained. Just the kind of place a person might get their ya yas out with a bit of throttle twisting should one be so inclined.
