A weekend trip involving three sport tourers, hundreds of miles of scenic Southwest roads, and a desert spa just might rekindle one’s spirit.

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The bleakness of the Mojave Desert brings to mind these words of the poet so preoccupied with the state of our souls. They seem particularly applicable here on Interstate 40, as we roll east at speed away from Los Angeles. Riding across this seemingly endless landscape lends itself to this type of reflection and inspires speculation about the occasional signs of life we happen upon, about how and why these souls arrived where they are. Perhaps they found restoration and repast—temporary or permanent—in the midst of this vast, uninviting desert. Such is the goal of our party of six souls—three couples on three motorcycles—seeking a sense of renewal from a sport tour ride and from the restorative environment waiting at the CopperWynd Resort and Club outside of Phoenix.

Our trip includes an overnight stay in Sedona—New Age central and the land of the swirling vortex. The three bikes selected for the ride are the BMW K1200 GT, the Honda ST1300 ABS, and the Yamaha FJR1300. Each falls into the category of sport tourer, but some offer more sport than tour and vice versa.

	Photo by Chris Nugent. (Click image to enlarge)

The Mojave finally relinquishes its dusty grip on the landscape between Needles, Calif., and Kingman, Ariz., where we climb up to approximately 6,500 feet and enter Prescott National Forest, headed east to Flagstaff. It is a pleasant change of scenery, from the drab beige of the desert to the refreshing green of ponderosa pines and Emory oaks of the mountains. With a four-lane highway of inviting fresh black asphalt stretching out through the mountain valleys like some great Paul Bunyon racetrack, it is easy to push the ST1300 well over the ton mark. The HMAS front forks and ProLink rear suspension effortlessly glide over the road and absorb the high-speed turns, belying the weight of the 637-pound motorcycle (not including cargo and passenger). Without referencing the clear and simple analog instruments, accurately judging speed is difficult if not impossible. The Honda makes relatively short work of the freeway section of the mountains and arrives at Highway 89A just south of Flagstaff for the brief but spectacular ride south through Oak Creek Canyon and into Sedona, the land of red rocks.

Highway 89A winds down Oak Creek Canyon alongside Oak Creek as it descends from the Mogollon Plateau through stands of sycamore and white oak, with Goodding’s willow shading the creek itself. Tight downhill turns and switchbacks follow the creek, which runs along the base of sheer red sandstone cliffs that rise hundreds of feet above you. The road passes through the land of the Sinaqua Indians, who inhabited the nearby cliff dwellings 500 years ago and then mysteriously disappeared, perhaps into one of the now famous vortexes that attract visitors from around the world.

"I love all waste and solitary places, where we taste the pleasure of believing what we see is boudnless, as we wish our souls to be."—Percy Bysshe Shelley (Click image to enlarge)

Nearly 100 pounds lighter than the Honda, and with a bit more sport than tour incorporated into its design, the Yamaha FJR1300 is better suited for this portion of the trip. A more aggressive seating position, larger front brakes, shorter wheelbase, and 145 hp engine that would be at home in any superbike enable us to negotiate and enjoy the challenge of a tight, twisty canyon such as this.

	Saguaro cacti begin to gather like sentinels along the road, growing into a low desert forest as we drop down into the land of perpetual summer. (Click image to enlarge)

A few miles past the original outpost of Indian Gardens and still a few miles north of Sedona, the canyon opens up and offers a first glimpse down into the Verde Valley at the landscape that draws millions of people to this isolated location every year. Spread out before us in a dramatic, otherworldly panorama are wind-swept buttes and towering pillars of red sandstone ascending thousands of feet into the clear blue Arizona sky. It appears like a proto–Grand Canyon.

After a quick descent out of Oak Creek Canyon and a ride across the Midgley span bridge, we arrive in the small town of Sedona. Our first night of recuperation awaits at the Adobe Village Graham Inn, a bed and breakfast at the foot of Bell Rock, the most photographed rock monument in Sedona. Climbing into a king-size bed in one of the roomy, tastefully decorated suites is the ideal way to end a full day of riding across the desert and through the canyons. The only enticement away from the grand comfort of the bed is the exquisite aromas of homemade pastries and omelettes emanating from the dining room the next morning.

Rested and restored for the day, it is time to head south on Highway 179 to Interstate 17 for a quick run of 13 miles to catch Highway 260 and climb east toward Bakers Butte, some 8,000 feet in the Mazatza Mountains. The road gradually ascends over the next stretch of 70 miles, with long sweeping curves connected by great expanses of undulating straights, as it travels across the top of the plateau toward Payson.

Bell Rock and the Adobe Village Graham Inn. (Click image to enlarge)

Here, the BMW K1200 GT is in its element. The heaviest of the three bikes, the GT weighs in at 680 pounds wet, and for long hauls, it is by far the most comfortable of the trio. The GT is long-legged, with a 61-inch wheelbase, and has the most upright seating position of the bikes. This makes fewer demands on the lower back but more on the rear end. Compensation comes in the form a plush, more forgiving, electrically heated seat. You can almost finish off the 5.4-gallon fuel tank before squirming sets in and relief becomes a persistent thought.

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Other touches enhance the GT’s image as a luxury tourer: heated grips, an electrically adjustable windshield, and, best of all, an electronic cruise control with a set-and-resume switch. The cruise control feature may seem novel or trivial, but it does make long hauls less strenuous and more enjoyable. You can also amuse yourself by setting the cruise control at an adventurous speed and seeing how long you can handle the curves before having to intervene—because of spent courage or in response to a sharp rap to the ribs when your passenger finally figures out what you are up to.

Passing through Payson, the road transforms from an intimate tree-lined, two-lane blacktop into a wide-open, four-lane interstate framed by grand vistas, large boulders, and high-desert scrub trees. We begin a long, gradual descent into the desert far below, and from this elevation, the horizon spreads out before us. It seems as though you can see all the way to Phoenix, still some 70 miles away. Familiar looking saguaro cacti stand tall with arms held high and begin to gather like sentinels along the road, growing into a low desert forest as we drop down into the land of perpetual summer.

In a valley just northeast of Phoenix lies the suburb of Fountain Hills. As we finish the descent to the floor of the Sonoran desert, we look to the southwest and see the town’s namesake: a 560-foot geyser of water located in the center of a man-made lake. From this distance, it looks as though the earth sprung a leak or the world’s largest fire hydrant was knocked over. Every hour on the hour and for 10 minutes at a time, the supposed tallest fountain in the world celebrates the spirit and enterprise of the people and the town.

The view from CopperWynd's terrace is stunning whether by day or night. (Click image to enlarge)

Situated atop a butte with a majestic view of the valley and Fountain Hills is the destination of this ride, the Copper-Wynd Resort and Club, a boutique-style resort with large private villas as well as standard rooms. After a day on the motorcycles, the invitation to sample the spa’s varied menu of therapies, from a simple massage to an intriguing "toe reading" based on reflexology, was accepted with relief and great enthusiasm by the women of the party. The men were more tempted by CopperWynd’s other activities for the soul in need of recuperation, such as horseback riding, golfing at the nearby Troon course, tennis, hot air ballooning, and the Bob Bondurant School of High Performance Driving. With the natural and obvious comparisons of motorcycling to horseback riding and racing, the choices were easy.

	Highway 89A through Oak Creek Canyon. (Click image to enlarge)

The image of the cowboy, his spirit of independence, rugged self-reliance, and sense of self-responsibility in adventures astride his faithful steed, is a near perfect fit with that of the motorcyclist. The parallel breaks down somewhat, when you actually ride the horse. They can be independent beasts in their own right and subject you to incomprehensible performance feedback, which will leave you struggling to compensate for unexpected results from rider input. Described by some as "trouble at both ends and uncomfortable in the middle," horses are perhaps better compared with bikes of old than today’s modern engineering gems. As with almost any motorcycle, after two straight hours in the saddle, it seems time for a spa treatment.

After a day on the motorcycles, the invitation to sample the treatment menu at the CopperWynd Spa was accepted with relief and enthusiasm. (Click image to enlarge)

At the opposite end of the riding mounts spectrum is the Bob Bondurant School, located just down the road from the resort. Options range from being driven around a racetrack in a high-performance Corvette by one of the instructors to a multiday custom curriculum conducted by Bondurant himself.

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