The Treacherous Path to Moab
The temperature was approaching 100°F as we made our way toward the town of Moab, Utah, on our KTM 790 Adventure R machines by way of the treacherous Hurrah Pass route. Mentally and physically cooked, I was more than ready to arrive in eastern Utah’s premier destination town.
Just a few days earlier, we had headed out early in the morning from our starting point in Hurricane, Utah, located in the far southwest corner of the state. Our group consisted of just four riders, two of whom I had never ridden with before. My good friend Randy Commans (@my1090R on Instagram) had invited me on this trek through central Utah. Randy’s friends, Pete Postel and Rob Scapa, were the organizers of our adventure. From the very start, I was simply along for the ride, as Pete had fully mapped out our route.
We hit the dirt almost immediately after departing Hurricane. With a fully loaded 790R, I felt a little sketchy on the fast gravel roads at first. However, as the altitude increased, we found ourselves riding through vibrant green corridors of aspen trees leading into the north end of Zion National Park. Entering the Dixie National Forest, the temperatures plummeted into the mid-50s, prompting me to layer up with my Klim jerseys to keep warm.
We were tackling some fast double-track, and I struggled to keep up with the group early on the first day. As I found out later that evening around the campfire, Rob and Pete were both ex-racers who had no problem running a sustained, blistering pace for hours on end. For an average rider like myself, it was more than a little challenging; I ended up taking far too many risks just trying to stay in touch with them. Interspersed with these fast sections were rocky, uphill trails that would have commanded your full attention even on a much smaller KTM 500 EXC. Fatigue was setting in fast.
As the day wore on, we finally made it to the Bryce Canyon area by late afternoon for an early dinner and to top off the big bikes with fuel. A few hours later, we located a remote camping area next to a small creek, set up our tents, and built a campfire to ward off the chill. Pete and Rob mentioned they had been riding large adventure bikes on trips like this for 15 years, starting originally on KTM 950 Adventure bikes. Having only camped off my bike a handful of times, it was great to see these veteran backcountry experts in action. After 11 hours in the saddle, I was ready for a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, that wasn't cards; I woke up every few hours for a nature break, finally greeting a chilly, 32°F morning before sunrise.
Detours and Altitude
Before setting off, I added some more preload to the rear suspension to balance out the KTM, as I had likely packed a bit too much weight into my Mosko Moto luggage. As we started our second day, the bike felt much better, allowing me to ride at speed with far more confidence than the day before.
We climbed higher and higher, only to find the trail blocked about 20 miles in by an impassable snowdrift at the 10,300-foot summit. We retraced our route back down to the morning's starting point, where Pete broke out his map to find a bypass to reconnect with our original journey. Having lost several hours already, I knew this was going to be another marathon day in the saddle.
After many miles at high altitudes in freezing temperatures, we inevitably began descending into 80-degree heat for a lunch stop in Boulder, Utah. With our bellies a little too full, we pushed on to get more miles in the bag. I was happy to hit the asphalt for a few minutes of relaxed riding before diving back into the dirt toward Capitol Reef National Park.
As we navigated the pale, surreal moonscape, I spotted a sign for the Burr Trail Switchbacks. The landscape looked instantly familiar, and I quickly realized that my wife and I had driven this exact trail in our little 4x4 truck back in 1990. With some quick math, I realized that was 30 years ago. I never would have imagined back then that I’d return to this spot, descending the treacherous route on a fully loaded 800cc adventure motorcycle.
We tackled another massive climb over a 10,600-foot pass at Bull Mountain, which rewarded us with a very loose, rocky downhill on the other side. It was late afternoon, and I was mentally and physically spent by the time we reached a paved road section at the bottom. The temperatures were now soaring into the mid-90s. Pete wisely decided to stick to the pavement into the town of Blanding to secure a hotel room, rather than traversing several more hours of dirt to find a cooler campsite. An hour later, we pulled into town for a bite to eat and a glorious cold shower. After another 11-hour riding day, I had never been so happy to see a Super 8 sign in my life.
The "Easy" Day
I started Day 3 feeling a bit under the weather after waking up at 4:00 AM, staring at the ceiling and wondering what the day would hold. Pete had promised it would be an “easy day” with less than 100 miles to Moab. We loaded up early to beat the heat and were on the road by 7:30 AM, heading along the asphalt toward Monticello. Pete had mapped out the day's route using portions of the Utah Backcountry Discovery Route (BDR).
Eventually, we arrived at a junction for the standard BDR trail, which looked like a well-groomed, manageable route through the desert. Instead, Pete decided we were going to take the "Experts Only" BDR alternate route into Moab. When we reached the staging point of the expert section, I initially thought, This isn’t too bad. Little did I know just how brutal it would become as the miles clicked by. The red sandstone terrain grew so technical that I would have been vastly more comfortable on a lightweight enduro bike. Without that option, it was time to suck it up and just ride.
We split into pairs. With a lot of help from Randy, who is an incredibly talented rider, I managed to muscle the bike through several tight, technical sections that completely maxed out my physical and mental capabilities. The fact that the thermometer was pushing 100°F didn't help, but I was incredibly thankful I had chosen Klim’s vented Mojave enduro gear and an Arsenal vest over a heavier, full-adventure setup.
The stunning landscape seemed to stretch on forever, and our pace slowed to a crawl as we encountered increasingly difficult obstacles. Finally, we began crossing paths with a few ATVs originating from the Moab side of the trail—a welcome sign that we were nearing our destination.
While the previous two days had taken a heavy mental toll on me, this supposedly "easy" day proved to be the most challenging of the entire trip. However, pushing through that rugged, remote terrain alongside Randy gave me a massive sense of accomplishment. As we finally rolled into the bustling tourist town of Moab, we spotted Pete and Rob sitting in the shade at a gas station, nursing massive cold drinks. Pete had a wry smile on his face when he saw us; he fully admitted he expected to have to come rescue us in a side-by-side.
Not today, Pete. Not today.
