(Left) Fully loaded and heading to the Grand Canyon. (Right) About an hour or so into the dirt, on one of the many dusty corners, I slipped in a rut and was thrown into the bank.


completely safe with them. I fell again (and again), but I was having the time of my life. After miles of mud, dust and rocks, we stopped for lunch at a little abandoned fire tower. A couple of hours later we finally made it to the Grand Canyon. None of us had ever seen it before. “Eh,” Jeri shrugged and muttered some-


thing in Dutch. “What?” I asked. “It looks just like the pictures,” Dagowin


translated. We laughed, but its unparalleled beauty nevertheless struck a chord inside of each of us. That night we wild camped somewhere


off the fire road that we rode in on. We gathered around a campfire and drank some makeshift whiskey chai tea. I don't even like chai tea, but that stuff hit the spot. The next morning, we packed up and rode through Navajo territory straight to Ante- lope Canyon. Riding in the dirt with the boys was a


blast, but riding through the desert on a highway was a spiritual journey all its own. I could finally focus on more than just the relationship between me and the ground. Antelope Canyon looked as if it held all


the lost souls that had ever lived in the des- ert. The elements swept and molded it into perfection. The curved walls of the canyon looked golden in the small rays of sunlight that shimmered down through the caverns. We clamored along with the rest of the tourists in the hundred-degree heat, but


this was our journey, our playground, our spirit world. We were in another time all our own. After a million “spiritual selfies,” we took


a tip from one of the local girls and headed to the dirt road that would take us to the lake. It was time to cool off, but not before I fell a few more times in the treacherous red sand that covered the road to the lake. The only way to get to the water was


from a dock right next to one of the fanciest lake resorts I have ever seen. With an audi- ence of fancy people eating overpriced sea- food shipped in from God knows where, we stripped down to nearly nothing and took a running jump into the lake. We made quite the show of it, splashing


around and laughing. Our bath was quick. We hopped back on the bikes as the sun set and went searching for a place to lay our heads for the night. The girl from the can- yon tipped us off to a dirt lot down the road, but after several of miles of searching we were losing hope and pulled over in front of a road with a “no trespassing” sign. As we were deliberating on where to go


and nearly giving up and heading to the dreaded KOA in town, a car pulled up. Jeri waved the driver down and we sat there expectantly as the driver and the Dutch man conversed. He came back with a smile and I knew he negotiated salvation. “She said her family owns this land and


we can set up camp down the road as long as we leave enough room for cars to pass!”


December 2015 BMW OWNERS NEWS 73


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