Rolling along east from Los Angeles on Interstate 40 at high speed for two hours across the bleakness of the Mojave Desert can conjure up these kinds of thoughts. Old quotes from an English lit class or a book you’ve just finished. It’s not often that you can achieve that level of introspection riding a motorcycle at speed, but this desert lends itself to that, if nothing else.
Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in the debut issue of Robb Report MotorCycling in Spring 2004. It has been slightly re-edited and updated for republishing.
It may also explain the occasional signs of life and habitats you happen upon literally in the middle of nowhere that cause you to speculate how and why souls arrive where they do and in what condition. Maybe they have found restoration and repast in the midst of this vast uninviting desert. And restoration of the soul is the purpose of this trip across the mighty Mojave, away from the crucible that is Los Angeles to the recreational oasis of Phoenix via Sedona, the New Age central and the land of the swirling vortex.
Six souls, three couples, on three similar but very different motorcycles, en route to a soul sojourn at the CopperWynd Resort (now the Adero Scottsdale Resort) in Fountain Hills just outside Phoenix, and a little restoration and repast.
The three bikes chosen were the BMW K 1200 GT, Honda ST1300, and the Yamaha FJR1300—all classified under the category of sport-tourers, but some with a little more sport than tour, and vice versa. The bikes were as varied as comparable fine wines—some better than others in specific situations, but all equally delicious.
The Mojave finally relinquishes its dusty grip on the landscape somewhere between Needles, California, and Kingman, Arizona, as you climb up to around 6500 feet and into Prescott National Forest, heading east to Flagstaff. A pleasant change of scenery from the beige drab plainness of the desert to the refreshing green of Ponderosa Pines and Emory Oaks of the mountains.
With a four-lane highway of inviting fresh black asphalt stretching out through the mountain valleys like some great Paul Bunyon racetrack, it was easy to find the Honda ST1300 had climbed to well over the ton mark in its own haste to put the desert behind it. The Honda’s suspension effortlessly glided over the road. It absorbed the g-loads of high-speed turns belying the weight of a 637-pound motorcycle plus cargo and passenger, making an accurate judgment of speed difficult without referencing the clear and simple analog instruments. The Honda had made relatively short work of the freeway section of the mountains and arrived at Arizona State Route 89A just south of Flagstaff for the short but spectacular ride south through Oak Creek Canyon and into Sedona—the country of red rocks.
Arizona 89A winds down Oak Creek Canyon alongside Oak Creek as it descends from the Mogollon Plateau through stands of Arizona Sycamore and Arizona White Oak with Goodding Willow shading Oak Creek itself. Tight downhill turns and switchbacks follow the creek along the base of sheer red sandstone cliffs that rise hundreds of feet above you. The road travels the land of the Sinaqua Indians who once inhabited the nearby cliffs dwellings five hundred years ago and then mysteriously disappeared, perhaps into one of the now famous vortexes that attract visitors from around the world.
At nearly a hundred pounds lighter than the Honda and a bit more sport than tour imbued into its design, the Yamaha FJR1300 is much more suited for this kind of work. A more aggressive seating position, larger front brakes, shorter wheelbase, and a 145-horsepower engine that would be at home in any superbike allows you to negotiate and enjoy the challenge of a tight twisty canyon such as this.
A few miles past the original outpost of Indian Gardens, and still a few miles north of Sedona, the canyon opens ups. It allows you your first glimpse into the Verde Valley, and what draws millions of people every year to this isolated location. Spread out before you in a dramatic, otherworldly panorama are wind-swept buttes and towering pillars of red sandstone ascending thousands of feet into the clear blue Arizona sky.
Looking like a supine god’s finger doodle in the red clay while he contemplated more important matters, or maybe put the finishing touches on his masterpiece to the north, this valley looking vaguely like some proto Grand Canyon, Verde Valley lays in the shadow of Cathedral Rock.
After a quick descent out of Oak Creek Canyon, Midgley Bridge delivers you to the small town of Sedona. Our first night of restoration awaits us at the Adobe Village Graham Inn (“Graham” has since been dropped from the name), a four-star Diamond Award-winning bed and breakfast at the foot of Bell Rock in the Coconino National Forest, the most photographed rock monument in Sedona.
The Adobe Village Inn has successfully combined the intimate charm of a small bed and breakfast with the elegance of a Royal Suite at the Ritz. Each Casitas suite is individually decorated in the finest of Southwest taste with see-through fireplaces next to jetted tubs and walk-in waterfall showers. The sitting rooms are appointed with luxurious leather commodore chairs and ottomans, along with fully stocked complimentary snacks in the kitchenette refrigerator.
However, the centerpiece of the suite is the king bed with a goose-down mattress cover, zillion-thread count Charisma sheets, and the finest bed dressings available—all triple-sheeted. When people fantasize about expiring peacefully asleep in their bed and moving on to their great reward, these are the beds they are thinking of.
After a full day of non-stop riding across the deserts and through the canyons, climbing into one of these beds is not so much as going to sleep but more of a blissfully passing away until the next morning. The only enticement away from the grand comfort of the bed will be the exquisite aromas of homemade pastries and omelets awaiting you in the dining room, a truly soul-filling start to the day.
Souls rested and restored for the day, it is time to head south down Arizona State Route 179 to Interstate 17 for a quick jaunt of 13 miles to catch State Route 260 and climb east towards Bakers Butte at 8000 feet in the Mazatzal Mountains. The road gradually ascends over the next stretch of 70 miles, with long sweeping curves connected by great expanses of undulating straights, as it travels across the plateau towards Payson.
Here the BMW K 1200 GT is really in its element. The heaviest of the three sport-touring motorcycles, but by far the most comfortable for long hauls, the GT weighs in at 680 pounds wet. Of the three bikes, the GT’s touring heritage shows through the most. It is long-legged with a 61-inch wheelbase and has the most upright seating position of the bikes. That means less demands on the lower back, but more on the rear end. The GT compensates by having a more forgiving and plush heated seat. You can almost finish off the 5.4-gallon fuel tank before squirming sets in, and relief becomes a persistent thought.
Other touring touches enhance the GT luxury—heated grips, electronically adjustable windshield, and electric cruise control with set and resume switch. It may seem novel or trivial, and takes getting used to being able to remove your right hand from the bars, but it really does make long hauls less physically strenuous and more enjoyable using cruise control. You can also amuse yourself by setting an adventurous electronic speed and seeing how long you can handle the curves before having to intervene, for either prudence’s sake, or a sharp rap to the ribs when your passenger finally figures out what you are up to.
Passing through Payson, the road transforms from an intimate tree-lined two-lane blacktop into a wide-open four-lane interstate with grand vistas, large boulders, and high desert scrub trees lining the road. You begin a long gradual drop into the desert below.
From this elevation, the horizon spreads out before you, and it seems you can see all the way to Phoenix, still some 70-odd miles away. Familiar-looking Saguaro cacti stand tall with arms held high and begin to gather like sentinels along the road, growing into a low desert forest as you ride down into the land of perpetual summer.
Just northeast of Phoenix lies the suburb of Fountain Hills. As you finish the descent to the floor of the Sonoran Desert, gaze toward the southwest. If your timing is right, you can see the town’s namesake from miles away. Looking like the earth has sprung a leak or the world’s largest fire hydrant has been knocked over, a 560-foot water geyser erupts straight up into the sky. Every hour on the hour, for 10 minutes at a time, the tallest fountain in the world in the center of a manmade lake celebrates the spirit and enterprise of the people and the town with this aquatic display.
Situated atop a butte with a majestic view overlooking the valley and Fountain Hills is the destination of this ride and restoration—Adero Scottsdale Resort. The spa is where the Brittany Coast meets the Sonoran Desert, and it provides luxurious treatments direct from Europe in a serene, intimate setting.
After a day on the motorcycles, the invitation to attend and sample the spa’s varied menu of therapies, from a simple massage to an intriguing “toe reading” based on reflexology, was accepted with relief and great enthusiasm.
In the morning, it would be time to face the long ride back across the desert to Los Angeles, but now it seemed not very daunting at all. But I wouldn’t know, I caught the red-eye to Manhattan.
Photography by Alfonse Palaima
