Moab, even the name sounds as foreign as its landscapes are to a city slicker like me. You see, there comes a point where you can only pound so much payment on your daily two-wheeled commute before you have to get away from it all…and with San Francisco currently undergoing its Bridgepocalypse, the timing seems right for Asphalt & Rubber to get a little dirt on its riding boots.

The truth is that I have wanted to go the parks that flank the Moab, Utah region since my early Boy Scout days. Once I got a car, it went on the short-list for road trip destinations; when I got a 4×4 it became the target for a four-wheeling adventure; and of course when I got a motorcycle…well, you get the idea. I have never made the trip happen though, but all that is going to change next week.

Just as Scott and David get back from Silverstone, covering what should be a very entertaining British GP, I will be embarking on a eight-day, 2,000+ mile, Santa Barbara to Moab and back, motorcycle trip. Like most of my foolish travel adventures, my college roommate Tim, a long-time riding buddy and occasional A&R helper, will make the adventure with me on two trusty steeds: a BMW R1200GS and Yamaha Super Ténéré.

Racing

Turn 1 at Laguna Seca is one of those challenging spots. Not only are the bikes approaching too quickly for autofocus to keep up, but you don’t know for sure which bike is coming up next. If you’re paying close attention, you might have a good idea that it’s Pedrosa instead of Pesek, but you won’t know for sure until you see an orange blur instead of a black one. Earlier Saturday, though, I’d heard inside the paddock that some of the MotoGP riders were reporting both wheels off the ground at this spot. So I decided it might be worth gathering up all the skill I could muster, and all the luck I had lying around, hoping the latter was at least equal to the former, and seeing if I could get lucky enough to grab a still image of this short flight.

Racing

A day doesn’t go by where someone takes to the internet to vent their frustrations, and even lash out at another person. Removed from physical confrontation, and mixed in with a layer anonymity, services like Twitter show mankind’s great disposition to becoming an asshole, 140 characters at a time. With all that has occurred in the past, and the previous paragraph said, it should then come as little surprise then that before it was promptly deleted, the following was tweeted from Spies’s official Twitter account, “Off to surgery tomorrow! Bet Carlo is so excited he wont remember to wipe the powder off his nose.” With the incident reaching tabloid levels in Italy, I have little interest in exploring the he-said-she-said nature of this story.