Wyoming: The Cowboy State Second only to Alaska, Wyoming has the smallest population in the United States per square mile: five. There’s something you feel about that when you enter the cowboy state for the first time. Low population density ultimately means low pollution, which means clear starry night skies (and less crime). I can get behind that.
First was Grand Teton National Park, which encompasses the Teton mountain range, the 4000-meter Grand Teton peak, and the valley known as Jackson Hole. It’s a popular destination for mountaineering, hiking, backcountry camping, and fishing. It is linked to nearby Yellowstone National Park by the John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Memorial Parkway.
Road Dogs If there’s one thing that the Urals are good at above all others, it’s at- tracting anyone with even the most casual interest in motorcycles. Pulling into a gas station in West Yellowstone to fuel up, rest our beat- en bodies, and get our fourth “travelers workout” of the day in before heading into buffalo country, we met with puzzled glances and a pair of road-weary gents in an ’80s Ford Ranger, packing an abused Honda CB750 and a skull-clad Yamaha Radian 600.
“Are you guys from Iron & Air?” they asked.
They’d been following our journey on Instagram and just so happened to be on a freewheelin’ adventure of their own. As fate would have it, they were headed in the same direction. So together we rode.
Edwin and Dan had been on the road for months, criss-crossing the States, relying heavily on their noses to find their way. Leaving their home in upstate New York with five-thousand bucks in their collective pockets, they set out with no real plan other than to go west until the coffer was empty. A couple of seasoned travelers, they were down for whatever the night might bring. What the night brought was an evening of drunken shenanigans. We attempted to make a few bucks by hustling some folks at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar, enjoyed the plunking of a honky tonk band at the Silver Dollar Saloon, took an Uber ride for 14 seconds in search of pizza, and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at our parking lot camp spot.
These two are true road dogs. They inspired us. They epitomized true adventure. They stand as a reminder to reevaluate what you seek in this world. To make sure you’re on your path because it’s all too easy to let someone else drive and find yourself in a place that you were never meant to be. When it’s all said and done, the only thing you truly own is your experience.
Yellowstone National Park One of the can’t-miss locales that the trip was built around. It’s the very first National Park in the world, and it sits on top of a supervolcano. Steaming hot springs and geysers make it obvious that the Earth’s crust is a wee bit thin here. We read the sign that informs us that the land we’re looking at is the remains of a major eruption that took place some 640,000 years ago.
Nice. Oh, and did we mention the park is home to grizzly bears, wolves, and bison. Bison that, as many visitors have found out, don’t like to share the road with vehicles.
This presented one of the more vulnerable moments on the trip. Picture a half dozen, 1,400-pound snarling beasts who wanted to cross the road at the same time we wanted to pass by. They started to go, hesitated and stopped. We did likewise. Stalemate. Their large black round eyes spied us in confusion. We stared back from behind our shields feeling very small and exposed. Something’s gotta give here.
Finally, someone hit their horn. It was the jolt the brutes needed to become decisive. Man, beast, and motorbikes all moved on along unharmed, intact, and full of relief.
Jackson Hole Majestic, imposing, grandiose, or as the local saying goes, “The Tetons are what mountains should look like.” Or as French fur traders called them: “big teats.” Riding south out of Yellowstone, the anticipation built until we ripped around a turn and there they were. Staggering granite peaks piercing the sky, dominating our sightline.
After some time spent admiring and shooting them, we rode into the hills above the National Elk Refuge and scouted a primo campsite with our new friends Edwin and Dan. As the tents were being set up, we heard the rumble of distant thunder. A quick glance confirmed the worst: a menacing storm boiling up from the west. “Shit, we’re gonna get dumped on! Let’s get into town, stay dry, and set up our tents later.”
We packed up the bikes, blasted down the hills, through the Snake River Valley and into Jackson Hole. Now, where to park the bikes? A turn down a back-alley and we found an empty carport. Just in time. The rain exploded on us sideways from the high wind. We ran and ducked into a bar. Was it Silver Dollar, or Million Dollar? Town Square Tavern? I’m not sure which one now, but I think I remember hitting all of them. I remember lots of beer.
Sometime during the night, I wandered back to the carport, rolled my sleeping bag out on the ground next to the bike and fell asleep. I was awakened by Edwin, I think it was, cramming a piece of a mashed peanut butter sandwich in my face, “Hey man, you hungry?” His generosity notwithstanding, I recoiled and buried my head in my bag. –Mike
Jackson Hole, a valley and wilderness recreation area in western Wyoming, is bordered by the jagged peaks of the Tetons. It’s home to upscale ski resorts, rustic campsites and dude ranches. Lively Jackson is the valley’s main town, where Old West shop fronts mix with modern sites like the National Museum of Wildlife Art.
Utah: Ancient Playground Author, environmentalist and Utah park ranger Edward Abbey believed that wilderness was not a luxury “but a necessity of the human spirit, as vital to our lives as water and good bread”. The outdoor playground of the west, Utah boasts all the wildness you can handle, starting with five national parks, filled with deep rivers, ancient canyons, robust mountains, and a giant, weird lake. The overwhelming sense we got when exploring its vast and dramatic landscapes is this: its lands are otherworldly… and necessary.
We rested our heads the first night on Antelope Island – land of lonely buffalo, horse shit, and miles of needle grass. The first few beers after our chilly ride raised our eyebrows when we recalled Utah’s peculiar liquor laws. All beer is limited to 3.2% ABV. Fortunately for us, we brought along a little of Montana liquid vice and settled in for some stiff drinks and astrophotography.
Everything here was markedly different than its western neighbors; the air felt different, the water tasted different, the landscape was unlike anything I was familiar with to that point. Even the beer was different. It felt ancient – like witnessing the floor of an ocean form in geologic time. It inspires a sense of smallness, much like the feeling I get when pondering a starry sky; only our minds are focused on a very salty earth.
A nice change was the artsy bourgeoisie ski town of Park City that acts as the node for some of the best skiing in the Wasatch Range, the sprawling concrete jungle of Salt Lake City, the dusty expanses of Moab, the surreal plateaus of Canyonlands, and the alien oddities of Arches. It’s as though Utah is begging to be explored by anyone with even a fleeting taste for the outdoors by offering up a boundless variety of terrain. –Greg
Sometimes called “America’s Dead Sea”, the Great Salt Lake located in the northern part of Utah, is the largest salt water lake in the Western Hemisphere. It is far saltier than seawater, and it’s shallow, warm waters cause frequent, sometimes heavy lake-effect snows from late fall through spring.
The Sand Flats are a multi-use land area managed by the Bureau of Land Management. It boasts some of the best mountain biking trails in the world, 40 miles of 4×4 Jeep trails, and some great camping spots. Have fun finding the road to get here, it’s obscured by the dark magic of Moab.
Time: 11:03 am
Location: Highway 191
75 miles north of Moab, Utah
Temperature: 95° Fahrenheit
We were making good time and looking forward to getting to Moab. The road began a slight incline so I downshifted, missed the gear and the engine roared for a tick. I let off the throttle, found 4th gear and continued on. Seconds later the engine hiccupped. A loud clacking, a sputter and then… nothing. I rolled to the shoulder of the road. Shit.
Worked for an hour or so, trying to diagnose what had happened. We sought advice on the phone with Jason Michaels and Dave George from Ural. We realized we were not going to fix it out here in the middle of the desert. We needed to get to Moab – but how?
“Guys,” Jason said, “I stashed a tow strap in the bottom of one of the cargo bags.”
“What?” was our collective response. “Tow it 75 miles – with the other Ural?”
“You can do it. I think.” Jason tried to sound confident. “Besides, no matter what happens, it’ll make for a great story.”
Out came the tow strap. Greg hitched it to the Gear-Up and we began a three-hour tow at a top speed of 35 mph. –Mike
Emily & Casey All it took was a busted rocker arm and being stranded in the desert for us to become the best of friends. Already aware of one another through social media, Emily came through with a mechanic recommendation and we were back on the road celebrating with these two explorers in secret Moab backcountry. Give these two passionate outdoor hippies a follow on Instagram. @emilyklarer & @cwmontandon
Brent the Mechanic After towing the Ural nearly 75 miles through the Moab desert we arrived feeling simultaneously defeated and victorious. The shop our friend Emily suggested wasn’t a motorcycle shop. It’s your run of the mill, part junk yard, part auto shop, part sweltering hot metal box. However, our fears about the shop were quickly dispelled as Brent, a mechanic who’s never worked on a Ural in his life, diagnosed the issue in under 10 minutes. It was an impressive display of logical deduction. A testament to Brent’s intuitive skill as a mechanic and the Ural’s simplicity.
Fortunately, we were able to order parts we needed early enough for Ural to overnight a new rocker arm. If there’s a next time we’re bringing an extra motor…
Long Canyon is a little slice of sandstone heaven only a half hour drive from Moab and adjacent to Arches National Park.
Arches National Park is located on the Colorado River 4 miles north of Moab, Utah. It is known for containing over 2,000 natural sandstone arches, including the world-famous Delicate Arch, in addition to a variety of unique geological resources and formations.
Canyonlands National Park is located near the town of Moab. It preserves a colorful landscape eroded into countless canyons, mesas, and buttes by the Colorado River, the Green River, and their respective tributaries.
The park is divided into four districts: the Island in the Sky, the Needles, the Maze, and the combined rivers – the Green and Colorado – which carved two large canyons into the Colorado Plateau.
Moab is a city in eastern Utah that attracts a large number of tourists every year, mostly visitors to the nearby Arches and Canyonlands National Parks. The town is a popular base for mountain bikers who ride the extensive network of trails, including Slickrock Trail, and off-roaders who come for the annual Moab Jeep Safari.
This article first appeared in issue 22 of Iron & Air Magazine, and is reproduced here under license | With selections by Brett Houle, Gregory George Moore, Michael Hilton & Jason Paul Michaels
Selected photography may include works by Brett Houle, Gregory George Moore, Michael Hilton, Daniela Maria, Jenny Linquist, Becca Skinner, Kevin Bennett, David Mucci
