The American West has special allure. Rugged landscapes, hardscrabble history, and a sense of endless possibilities draw people to the West like a magnet to metal. For the curious and the adventurous, few states pack in as much variety as Arizona. Deserts dominate the southern part of the state, while to the north you’ll find the high Colorado Plateau, mountains that tower more than 10,000 feet, and Arizona’s most famous feature: the Grand Canyon, one of the world’s seven natural wonders.
My Arizona motorcycle adventure began in Prescott, a charming Old West city that served as the capital of the Arizona Territory in the 1800s. Located a mile above sea level in the foothills of the Bradshaw Mountains, Prescott was a frontier gold and silver mining town that once counted Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday among its residents. It’s home to the “World’s Oldest Rodeo,” which began in 1888 and draws tens of thousands of attendees every year.
While in Prescott, I stayed at the Hotel St. Michael, which opened in 1901 and has had such distinguished guests as Theodore Roosevelt and Zane Grey. The St. Michael is located on the northeast corner of Whiskey Row, a block that’s famous for its saloons and overlooks Prescott’s historic town square, where lush trees and grass surround the Yavapai County Courthouse.
Loop Ride to Skull Valley and Jerome
Whiskey Row is on Montezuma Street, and part of the street through Prescott is designated Arizona State Route 89. I fired up my red-white-and-blue Honda Africa Twin and rode south on SR-89, carving curves through the Bradshaw Mountains. South of Wilhoit, I explored some backroads, including Iron Springs Road through Skull Valley, a small community named after the Native American remains found by the first white settlers in the area.
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Leaving the pavement, I entered Prescott National Forest and cruised north on wide, hardpacked forest roads covered in a fine layer of sand – perfect for the occasional rear-wheel drift around a curve to test the Honda’s torque and traction control. My clockwise loop turned east, and I crossed SR-89 north of Prescott at Chino Valley.
After passing through civilization and a brief foray on pavement, I entered the national forest again, and the landscape changed from dry grass and scrub to red rocks and dirt. This part of the ride gave the sense that parts of the West are still wild, with wide-open spaces where the only evidence of human existence is a desolate dirt road. Stopping the bike and turning off the engine left nothing but the sound of wind.
After climbing several switchbacks to a narrow slot pass, the unpaved road became a series of tight hairpins with a stone wall on one side and a steep drop on the other. After passing the Gold King Mine ghost town, I rejoined the pavement on SR-89A in Jerome, a former mining town once known as “The Wickedest Town in the West.” Perched on a steep hillside like an alpine village, it’s now a charming and well-visited tourist destination.
The 20 miles of SR-89A from Jerome to Prescott Valley, which slithers its way up and over Mingus Mountain, is one of the best motorcycling roads in Arizona. It has it all: hairpins, constant-radius corners, inclines, declines, smooth pavement, and scenic views.
After my backroad and backcountry adventure, I spent the afternoon sampling some of Whiskey Row’s saloons and shops before having dinner at Palace Restaurant & Saloon, a favorite hangout of Earp and Holliday in the 1870s. When the Palace was destroyed by a fire in 1900, dedicated patrons saved the ornate wooden Brunswick bar by carrying it across the street, and it’s still in use today. The Palace, which still has bullet holes in its pressed-tin ceiling, has walls adorned with historic photos as well as posters for Junior Bonner and Billy Jack, two movies that used the saloon as a filming location.
Rim to Rim and Horseshoe Bend
The next morning, I loaded up on coffee and breakfast at the Hotel St. Michael’s bistro, and then I loaded up the Honda with a duffel bag and a tent. My plan was to camp on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, but first I had to get there.
From Prescott, I rode north on SR-89 for a long, mostly straight 50 miles to Ash Fork, where I picked up Interstate 40 and continued east to Williams. This stretch of I-40 replaced the old U.S. Route 66, the so-called “Mother Road” that ran from Chicago to Los Angeles and was one of the main highways that carried Americans by car or motorcycle to the West. Ash Fork and Williams still offer plenty of “Get Your Kicks” kitsch to draw in tourists.
Over the 20 miles from Ash Fork to Williams, I-40 climbs to nearly 6,800 feet in elevation as it ascends the massive Colorado Plateau. From Williams, I beelined north for another 50 miles on State Route 64, which passes through part of the Kaibab National Forest and the town of Tusayan before entering Grand Canyon National Park.
See all of Rider’s U.S. West motorcycle rides here.
My first stop was the Backcountry Information Center in Grand Canyon Village, where I obtained a backcountry permit that would allow me to camp at Tuweep, a remote, primitive campground on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon with just nine sites.
With my permit in hand, I rode east on a part of SR-64 known as Desert View Drive that follows the South Rim and gives visitors a taste of the canyon’s grandeur at Grandview Point, Moran Point, Navajo Point, and Desert View Watchtower. From the rim, it’s difficult to see the Colorado River that’s nearly a mile below because it’s hidden behind cliffs and mesas. From river level, it’s also difficult to see the canyon’s rims, as I discovered in 2013 when my father, brother, and I floated down the entire 277-mile length of the Colorado in a wooden dory as part of a guided tour.
Exiting the national park, I continued east to Cameron, a small town within the Navajo Nation. Being a gateway to the Grand Canyon, it has gas stations, chain restaurants, and shops selling souvenirs. There are no roadway bridges over the Grand Canyon, so to get to the North Rim I would have to cross the Colorado River via the Navajo Bridge over Marble Canyon.
But first I had a box to check on my bucket list: visiting Horseshoe Bend. I rode north on U.S. Route 89 for 60 miles, and at Bitter Springs the road turns to the east and climbs 1,000 feet within three miles as it cuts through the red rock cliffs up to Antelope Pass. Sometimes referred to as the “East Rim of the Grand Canyon,” Horseshoe Bend is a U-shaped meander in the Colorado River located five miles below Glen Canyon Dam, and it’s accessed from a large parking area near the town of Page, which serves as a gateway to Lake Powell and the Colorado River.
There’s a viewpoint from the rim at Horseshoe Bend that’s an iconic spot to take photos, particularly at sunset. It was a hot day when I visited, and clopping along in riding gear and heavy motocross boots for the 1.5-mile walk from the parking lot to the rim was a drag, but the view was worth the effort.
Backtracking on U.S. 89, I savored the scenic descent to Bitter Springs before picking up U.S. Route 89A and crossing the Navajo Bridge, entering the largely uninhabited area between the Colorado River and the Utah state line known as the Arizona Strip. Just beyond the bridge is Lees Ferry, the put-in spot for raft and dory trips down through the Grand Canyon. Although the major highways I traveled on were wide and had gradual curves, they delivered the goods in terms of scenery. Now on the northern side of the canyon, U.S. 89A tracked west and on my right were the majestic Vermillion Cliffs.
After crossing House Rock Valley, the road began to climb again. Desert scrub gave way to pine trees and the afternoon heat began to subside as I approached Jacob Lake, a small community at nearly 8,000 feet that’s the gateway to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. I had ridden more than 300 miles so far and worked up quite an appetite, so I had a late lunch at the Jacob Lake Inn, which has an old-school diner with a lunch counter that serves juicy burgers and fresh-baked cookies.
With my belly full, I enjoyed a fast, scenic descent of more than 3,000 feet to Fredonia, and with each passing mile it got warmer and warmer. I continued west on State Route 389 for 13 miles, and just before Pipe Springs National Monument (where you can also obtain a backcountry permit to camp at Tuweep), I turned onto Mount Trumbull Road, a wide, well-groomed gravel road, and kicked up a dust cloud for 60 miles on my way to the campground.
After reentering Grand Canyon National Park, a ranger at the Tuweep station checked my permit. The last couple of miles to the campground were the most challenging. The Africa Twin’s big front wheel and generous ground clearance made it easy to crawl over the embedded rock and negotiate loose stones and sand. After setting up my tent, I rode out to Toroweap Overlook, where I put the kickstand down and walked to the edge of the abyss, standing 3,000 vertical feet above the Colorado River with no one else around as the sun began to set.
My Cup Runneth Over
In just two days, I packed in nearly 600 miles of scenic riding on pavement and backcountry byways. I spent two nights in a historic hotel in the heart of Prescott, an authentic Western town where I wet my whistle in the same Whiskey Row saloon where Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday used to rest their heels. I checked Horseshoe Bend off my bucket list, and I experienced the seventh natural wonder of the world from two very different perspectives – the heavily trafficked South Rim and a primitive campsite on the North Rim. It was a fantastic Arizona motorcycle adventure.
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