One down, four to go.

The motorcycle crew outside the Aiken Maiken Baiken in Kanab at departure time on Thursday.

We made a new friend: the sole member of the Kanab Police Department.

Except he is a bit of a dummy. But cool shades, dude.

Artificial arch. As if they don't have enough already.

 Bryce Canyon.

Les at Bryce. Little does he know what is in store for him.

Howi, NoNo, Tom and Les up at Bryce. Bob is guarding the trailer.

Natural arch in Bryce.

Natural deer in Bryce.

The day starts off well. Bob has unleashed Thunderbird 4 from the trailer and is riding with us. We get our requisite group shot outside the Aiken and we head off for Bryce Canyon but not before NoNo, Tom and I stop and visit our friend at the edge of town. He is the hardest working officer of the Kanab's finest. In fact, he may be the only officer in Kanab's finest. He is pretty good at slowing down traffic but not too good at investigating crimes.

Bryce Canyon is another of Utah's beautiful parks though somewhat regressive in that it does not allow 10 foot trailers behind a vehicle but does allow 40 foot motorhomes. The result of this is that Bob is barred from the park because he has ditched his bike outside the park but Cathy is towing the trailer and NO TRAILERS ALLOWED in the park. The four bikers ride to the end of the park, about 30 kilometres and then ride back stopping at every roadside turnout to check out the view and even be in a few tourist photos. Or take a few of squirrels.

Outside the park, we have a late lunch and then Sheila tracks down a place we can stay in Torrey. Somewhat of a surprise to me, south Utah is pretty busy for hotels. I am surprised because I assumed beforehand that since the kids are back in school, there won't be too many families on the road taking up our spots. Certainly, there are not too many families on the road but there are lots of tourists and also lots of motorcycles. Reservatrions are hard to come by but we are lucky because we get rooms at the Best Western in Torrey. Maybe not the best hotel chain in the world but it is generally reliable and consistent.

On the way to Torrey from Bryce, we are having a thrilling ride.  One section rises from deep on the plains up a ridge where the road follows the edge of the ridge to the summit at 9200 feet. It is a steep drop off both sides of the road and I don't dare divert my eyes for a fraction of a second. I am gripping the handlebars a little tighter and easing off on the throttle but it is so beautiful, I can't help but be exhilerated.

The road keeps climbing and there is a serious, black cloud threatening us but we get no more than a few drops. We reach the summit and start the descent and the landscape, which is on the leeard side of the mountain, is lusher and greener than we have seen in most places. There are cattle wandering the road sides as well as deer, elk and roadkill rodents. Unfortunately, from here, it all goes horribly wrong.

Tom and Les are riding ahead of Bob, NoNo and me. The three of us round a corner and the first thing we see is Tom walking the side of the road, clearly looking for something,  his bike pointing back the way we have come, Les's bike on the opposite side of the road and Les looking forlornly at his bike. His rear tire has blown as he has come around the corner and he has crashed and he knows he has broken his collar bone. His bike is beat up bad but it looks repairable, the fairing broken quite badly and scrapes on both sides. His helmet has also taken a pounding and clearly, it has been hit by I would guess, gravel in the ditch because it doesn't look like Les slid on pavement. His helmet has done its job by maybe saving his life.

Les is cursing up a very pale blue streak being careful not to offend anybody with foul language. Cathy, Sheila and John are bringing up the rear; Les is injured but is stable so we determine the best course of action is to just wait for Cathy with the trailer; we know she can't be too long and even if she is a long time, it will be less than what it would take to get an ambulance to the scene. When Cathy and the others arrive, we load Les into the truck and his bike into the trailer. Before the trip, we had remarked that having a trailer would act as a safety precaution. I thought maybe for mechanical breakdown rather than breakage.

We get to the hotel and the staff there tell us there is a nurse practitioner in Bicknell, eight miles away. Bob and Cathy get Les there where he is examined and X-rayed and it is determined he needs to see the doctor ASAP. Bob and Cathy then take him to Richfield, a further 40 miles so he can be examined by a doctor, who determines that Les needs surgery. They need to find a surgeon who will do the surgery and arrangements are made to send Les via ambulance to Payson, south of Salt Lake City. Once he is taken there, they discover that Les has broken ribs and needs to go to a trauma centre so is sent further to Provo, where he arrives about 3 a.m.