A Washboard is not supposed to be a road.

Crown King is a small mountain town with a saloon and a post office and a store in the mountains east of the 17, approximately 70 miles northeast from Phoenix.  Not a big deal until I took an early exit and followed a windy paved road down into a canyon and the pavement ended.

Slow, that's what it was.  But that's the best when it's just me.  Nobody to race along those roads but how fast or slow I can ride over that washboard.  There was nothing but 4 wheel drive vehicles out there, dirt bikes, big trucks, and small SUV's....and cactus.  And then there was me, my harley, and the dust clouds I was making 5-10 miles an hour at a time.

I'd come to a small town called Bumble Bee.
It was like a ranch and a couple rock houses.
Very cool, very "I love the desert."  I blinked and I was gone.
Counting/guestimating down the miles to my finaldestination.  Figuring it had to be somewhere close.  But the more I thought about it, the more I was like, nope, just enjoy the scenery, and try to pick the smoother lines.  I thought my bike was going to rattle apart.  An old chirp, somewhere in my right side, came back to visit.  I missed it.  And then there it was......

I'd come to a large fork in the road, after about 20 miles of slow dirt washboard, and a few sideroad explorations, and turnarounds, and my stomach was starting to ache.  There was a sign in the middle of the split that said 4 miles to the right was a small country store, "only open on the weekends."  And my destination "Crown King Saloon" was still 17 washboard miles ahead.  I parked at that junction and returned a call.  Gave my motor time to cool after all that slow hot riding.  Suddenly from the north and the south a bunch of cars decided to come down the line.  They took turns passing my bike on the left, as I wasn't about to get on just to move it out of the road.  I was exhausted.  The folks were nice enough to ask if I was alright and if I needed help, to which I replied "I'm good, just deciding whether to go swimming, or keep heading on to Crown King."

Decisions. Decisions.

Well, time and distance, fatigue and hunger all got the better of me and I took the right vein out to that small country store.  4 dustier miles later, and that country store looked more like a ghost town.  "Closed."  I was pretty bummed, and stared at it for a good long bit, hoping someone would peek out from behind the bedsheet drapes, providing some confirmation that they were indeed opened and were anxious for my business.  But alas they gave me nothing, and I didn't leave them anything but tire tracks.  So I kept on goin. The highway home was I didn't know how much further, I just kept following the signs that said "To HWY 17" (arrows pointing me down various roads).

I reached it.  The pavement.  It was needless to say, soothing relief.  I rode slow and tired in the right lane.  Semi's passing me is usually my kinda pace.   I like dazing off into the countryside.  My head usually cocked to the right or left, more appreciating the scenery than the road.

I stopped at a Restaurant/Bar in a town called New River.  I rode past it earlier and it looked interesting.  So here I was digging into my raw buffalo wings, until I really noticed the pink raw flesh about 5 wings into my battle with hunger.  They let me leave without a bill, so I called it even.  My gut might disagree later.  

Sooner than later I was home.  Plugged in my ever-overheating-dying phone, and jumped in the pool.  AAAAAAaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!  I practiced my back floating for a bit, and appreciated a small cloud overhead.  Drying off on the lounge chair at this very moment, I bring you the ride of the day.  

Cheers.  Now, let's go drown this salmonella party in beer before it kicks in.  Bwahahahahahah!

P.S.  I owe myself another trip out to Kings Canyon, but today, I'll call it good exploration.  Kings Canyon Saloon, I'm coming for you.  

Well, Whadd'ya know.  This lil gem is for sale.