Now that we have them back on, I can admit that we took them off. And it was great.
We are talking helmets. Utah and Arizona are two of the states where you don't have to wear helmets on a motorcycle and so we didn't, even though we know we should have (think of the possible consequences, blah, blah. Yes, I know, mother, but it was too tempting). It made the approach to Monument Valley one of life's great pleasures.
This is the place made famous by the scores of westerns that were shot here, including John Ford's Stagecoach, Rio Grande, She Wore a Yellow Ribbon and Fort Apache. You know the scene - John Wayne in the foreground on horseback, and behind him those astonishing red rock mesas, buttes and spires rising out of the desert.
More recently (well, 1975) it was used in The Eiger Sanction, and since then in many advertisements, mostly for motor vehicles. Close your eyes and you could imagine a rider from the Pony Express heading west with urgent news (Incidentally the organisation was only in existence for 18 months, using a team of 80 riders to relay post the 2000 mile way from Missouri to Sacramento and was put of business overnight by the transcontinental telegraph in 1861).
Open your eyes and it's Dr John and me, riding our Harleys on those straight, straight roads in the shimmering heat. I should have mentioned that bits of Easy Rider were shot here too.
There's a dirt road into the Valley itself, so rather than risk the bikes we took a $25 jeep ride past the majestic cliffs, sandstone arches and dry creeks. Our driver was a Navajo, upon whose millions of acres of reservation we were. There are still a few people living out there in the traditional homes, or hogans, made of wood and clay. Others live in dilapidated looking mobile homes with a battered pick-up or two outside. Many of the men of workable age have moved out into the white man's world looking for jobs in the big cities of Phoenix and Tucson, and even futher afield.
Our stop for the night was Page, two miles from Lake Powell, where there are more redcliffs plunging into the lake. More movies were made here, including The Planet of the Apes, Maverick and some scenes from Superman.
Page did not exist until 1957 when the enormous dam at Glen Canyon was built to help regulate the flow of the Colorado, creating Lake Powell. Page was built for the workers, but now they have gone it has become a holiday destination for water enthusiasts.
There are the usual motel chains in Powell but we, as we have tried to during most of the trip, went for the locally run places. We stayed at Bashful Bob's Motel (bashfulbobmotel@webtv.net) for $39. 75-year-old Bob is not bashful at all, and he writes a lot of poetry which you can read at www.lightverse.net. Our cabin had two rooms and a kitchen and a barbecue spot outside, so we had T bone and drank cold Californian wine in the warmth of the evening.
Page, Arizona to North Rim, Grand Canyon, Arizona
The Grand Canyon is as everybody knows, very very grand. So that's that then.
We stayed at the Grand Canyon Lodge on the less crowded north rim, and enjoyed the views from the terrace of the hotel as the sun went down, watching the colours change on the rocks that plunge over 5,000ft to the Colorado below. We took pictures and rode out the next morning. Everyone should see it.
The 40-mile ride in and out of the north rim (it's 12 miles across to the south rim but is 215 miles by road) was a joy - through a forest of Ponderosa pine and parched meadows, the road sometimes curving, sometimes straight. On a bike you can smell the pine.
North Rim, Grand Canyon to Sedona, Arizona
The first person we met in Sedona, on hearing our accents, said that she had visited Stonehenge. She added that this had been wonderful because in a previous life she had been a druid high priestess. There are lots of people like this in Sedona, a lovely town 26 miles south of Flagstaff, surrounded by red rocks. There's the Earth Mother Father Healing Plaza, a woman outside the organic food store giving massages, and lots of tourist shops selling mystic junk. Welcome to one of America's New Age centres.
For hundreds of years the Native Americans realised that this place was a place for feeling the Earth's energy. Since the 60s, the Californians (mostly) got into this, and books have been written about the vortexes around Sedona, places where the Earth's energy is close to the surface and you can feel it. Certainly our ex high priestess said she felt it. You can buy maps that show where they are.
Dr John did not feel that energised. He fell asleep by the pool.
The ride into town from Flagstaff, plunging down Oak Creek Canyon on route 89A was another lovely one - steep sided and tree covered with a river at the bottom in which there were places to camp and swim. Unfortunately the fear of forest fires that have swept other parts of Arizona, which has not had rain for months, means that all national forest access is closed. We were stopped at a police roadblock and told not to stop on the way through.
That evening, perhaps influenced by the vortexes (or should that be vortices) Dr John and I did discuss the meaning of life. We decided that if it was about having children then our deed was done, and I can't remember much else because by that time we were on to our second bottle of Californian Chardonnay in a very good Italian restaurant.
It's that Californian influence again.
