If I were still in school, and upon my return from summer break, I would have had the perfect essay for my teacher.

The topic? Of course it would have to be: “What I did on my summer vacation.”

But since St. Mary’s Catholic School was glad to get rid of me decades ago, and I’m not required to write essays anymore, you, poor reader, are being subjected to my random musings on the subject at hand.

Be warned – it’s going to be longer than a 500-word essay…

It is August in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, after all, and fill these pages we must.

I’m not bragging, but I took a motorcycle ride for my summer vacation. Not any motorcycle ride, mind you, but the most epic and historical and monumental motorcycle ride of my life.

Perhaps next summer there will be an even more epic ride, but for now I have to settle for this one.

There have been countless motorcycle riders who have gone longer distances – and endured many more hardships and adventures and annoyances than I did for this trip – but putting 5,089 miles on a Harley Ultra Limited over a two-week period is a new record for me.

And maybe there are some hard-core bikers out there who still refer to their girlfriends or wives as “old ladies,” but this weekend warrior surely wouldn’t call his beautiful bride Brenda by that name.

For you see, my very own biker babe was behind me the whole time – sometimes hanging on for dear life; most times just hanging out and enjoying the view.

The grand plan was this – head to Las Vegas, cruise through some national parks in Utah, do the same in Colorado, then continue heading east to Wisconsin to spend a few days with my sister and her family in the Milwaukee area.

Then we would drop down south to Indianapolis, Ind. to attend the annual convention of Kiwanis International for a few days.

From there, we would ride off into the sunset and head west back to our humble abode in Fountain Hills, Ariz.

And I must say – thanks to the grace of God – we survived the trip, didn’t have too many “near misses,” we went to all the places we wanted to see, we stayed on schedule and we were still talking to each other and laughing by the end of the trip, so we must have done something right…

We barely made it out of the Phoenix area, however, as we got off work early and decided to leave after lunch one day earlier than planned.

Of course the temperature hovered around 110 to 112 degrees, and there is no heat relief between here and Vegas.

We had to stop near the Carefree Highway and Interstate 17 just to cool off in a convenience store and chug some Gatorade. That pretty much became the mantra of the ride – stay hydrated.

Seems as if most of the nation has been gripped by a heat wave through most of the summer, and the second half of June was no exception. After bunking down in Vegas and moving into Utah the next day, we found the temperature to be 100 degrees in Zion National Park.

So much for any anticipated heat relief in Utah.

Over the next two days we cruised through Zion, Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef and Arches national parks.

We’ve never been to Utah before, so it was a spectacular sight to witness the colorful grandeur while riding on a motorcycle. To me, it was like going to Sedona, but think 100 times bigger and better than Sedona (sorry, Sedona).

One highlight in Zion was pulling into a parking lot and being descended upon by hordes of Japanese and European tourists.

They were returning to their motor coaches and all of a sudden a giant dressed out American motorcycle pulls up with riders in full gear.

They started pointing and snapping pictures.

We smiled and waved. Wish we could have charged an admission fee or something.

Anyway, you could spend an entire summer in these Utah parks, but…

We didn’t have the time or luxury to hang out at these locales for any extended periods of time – no camping, no hiking, etc.

If it’s 100 degrees – and you’re sporting long pants, a helmet, long-sleeve T-shirts and motorcycle boots – hiking in a mile or two to see an “arch” up close just isn’t going to happen.

At one point – we were on a small two-lane highway outside of one of the parks – the elevation was high and the terrain narrow.

The road’s shoulders were skinny and the land sparse. Probably 20 feet on either side of this narrow road were steep canyons -- thousands of feet straight down to the bottomless pit.

My eyes focused on the narrow road ahead. My brain tried to ignore the reality staring at me on my right and my left. One minor mishap and everybody would be toast.

It really proved to be a harbinger of things to come…

There were two highlights for us in Colorado – the New Belgium Brewery in Fort Collins and Rocky Mountain National Park.

I won’t imbibe too much on the brewery tour – let’s just say Fat Tire is my favorite beer and we had a blast at the unique brewery – and I was able to scratch one more thing off that ol’ bucket list.

Rocky Mountain National Park was the “number one” trip highlight.

Pine trees, meadows, babbling brooks, glimmering lakes, meandering elk, bighorn sheep, snow drifts five to six feet deep alongside the pavement, snow-capped ridges, yellow-bellied marmots, tundra, deer, terrifying curves and (again!) narrow two-lane roads with drop-offs thousands and thousands of feet down with virtually no shoulders or guardrails.

This Trail Ridge Road has to be one of the most spectacular rides in the country for a motorcyclist – and one of the most terrifying.

I hugged the yellow center double line as close as I could and my beautiful bride actually leaned away from the road’s shoulder and steep drop-off, giving me a noticeable clue as to the sheer terror she was feeling at the moment.

And, truth be told, this was not really making it easier for me to maneuver the Harley around these death-defying curves.

Once again, my eyes were planted on the pavement and I (we) couldn’t afford to look right or left.

The highest point on the road is at 12,183 feet.

Amazing.

There were plenty of places to pull over, however, and snap pictures and take in the gorgeous views – above the tree line mind you.

This stretch of road just opened a few weeks prior. It is officially closed from mid-October to Memorial Day (possibly later). The temperature was in the mid-60s and the snow drifts were melting big time.

From Colorado, we traveled north to Cheyenne, Wyoming (a special shout out to the High Country Motor Sports Harley Davidson dealer!) and then through Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois and finally into my sister’s home in the Milwaukee area.

After leaving the Kiwanis International convention in Indianapolis, we traveled back through Illinois, then dropped down to St. Louis and then straight west through Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, then south through New Mexico and into Arizona.

We got lucky with the weather. Plenty of heat and humidity, but we avoided major storms, wind, tornadoes and such during our on-the-road travels.

We donned our rain gear twice on the trip, but it really wasn’t needed.

Ironically, the most rain we hit in 5,000 miles was in Arizona on the Mogollon Rim as we were headed back home.

Did my butt, legs and back hurt? Yes. Pain relievers were my friend on this trek.

Would I do it again? Absolutely.

The longest stretch? On the second day back to Arizona, we traveled from Kansas City to Santa Fe, N.M.

Took us more than 15 hours, including gas breaks, meals, etc. The distance is approximately 900 miles. I would not recommend that on a daily basis.

Exhausting but exhilarating – that’s how I would describe the ride.

And that, dear teacher, is my essay on what I did during my summer vacation.