This morning there are 3600 miles new miles on the Goldwing's odometer. A fast flight to Boise to celebrate my friend, Rusty's, 60 th birthday was traded for an eight day motorcycle adventure that took me to seven states and several places I had always wanted to see.

Leaving Roswell on Monday I followed my headed for my favorite Colorado roads – due north to Chama and Pagosa Springs, then on to Gunnison via South Fork and Lake City . Wolf Creek Pass , Creede, North Clear Creek Falls and Slumgullion Pass are spectacular ornaments along this lovely strand of asphalt. Good thing I slept well because the north side of the Curencanti Recreation area is technically demanding and visually awesome, including Blue Mesa Lake and the Black Canyon of the Gunnison . After breakfast in Hotchkiss there was more magic along Hwy 133 through Paonia, followed by the incredible Glenwood Canyon , the only stretch of interstate highway in the nation worthy of a motorcycle.

At Wolcott I turned north to Toponas and across to Hwy 9, which was a terrific way to work my way up to Walden and then to Laramie , where I spent my second night. The ride from Bosler (NW of Laramie) to Wheatland Wednesday morning was a great surprise with unusual, low mountains and lots of curves. Highway 85 north to Newcastle was quite scenic if rather flat.

Things look and feel somehow different as you cross into South Dakota and the Black Hills . Make no mistake, this hills are definitely mountains -- not particularly tall but heavily forested. I turned north at Custer, passing the Crazy Horse monument then on to Mount Rushmore . Under sensational blue skies I spent about an hour there and, discovering I had cell phone service, called Erica, my daughter the movie buff, and greeted her with the words, “I don't like the way Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me.” ( Cary Grant, North by Northwest .) She got it.

I looped back around through Deadwood, Lead and Spearfish and discovered a delightful tangle of narrow roads, then on to Belle Fourche and headed for Devil's Tower. Along the way I was discouraged by a large sign that read, ATTENTION MOTORCYCLES, MUDDY SLIPPERY CONDITIONS AHEAD--SEEK ALTERNATE ROUTE. So I did, backtracking to the tiny town of Sundance , where the Sundance Kid got his name, according to the motel desk clerk. She also told me a big slide was the reason for the sign.

Devil's Tower was waiting for me the next morning. Like Mount Rushmore , it was something I always wanted to see and it didn't disappoint me. I dipped back into Wyoming and crossed the Bighorn Mountains west of Buffalo. It was a magnificent ride that lasted a long time before a Wyoming State Troop brought me back to reality east of Worland. Bear Tooth Pass , on the northeast approach to Yellowstone National Park , is a renowned motorcycle road and my intended destination, but I was too tired to run it. Instead I spent the night at Red Lodge, Montana . There were hundreds of motorcycles in town, all, from what I was told, there to run the pass.

Rolling out at 6:30 I got to see the pass in the morning light with absolutely no traffic. It was sublime. I crossed Yellowstone to Idaho Falls , then on to Boise . During the whole ride I had not encountered temperatures higher than the upper 80s but today it was 107 in Boise . It was Friday night and I had an hour to get ready for Rusty's surprise party. We ate, drank, laughed and danced the night away, with more of the same on Saturday.

Sunday morning dawned cloudy and mercifully stayed that way for the first couple of hundred miles. What I intended to be a quick on-off gas stop at Twin Falls took me on into town and one of those great surprises that motorcycle trips are good for: the Snake River Canyon. On the outskirts of Twin Falls the ground falls away into a breathtaking gorge crossed by a long arch bridge.

Droning down I-84 toward Salt Lake City the clouds dissipated and the triple digit heat returned with a vengeance, relenting somewhat as I crossed Soldier Summit but back up to “broil” on the other side. At Green River I surrendered and vowed to cross the next section of desert before the sun came up. I passed through Moab in pale morning light and continued toward Roswell through Durango and Bloomfield , amused at the fact that it would be cooler when I got home.