Last summer we had an unlikely supercharged duel: We raced Kawasaki's Ninja H2 SX against the Jet Ski 310R across land and water in the Utah desert.

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The road uncoiled itself, dumping onto a long, knife-point straight, a tarmac scar across the Utah desert. Open range spilled out on both sides, low, drab scrub and sunset sand running to meet a pale morning sky. It was the kind of beautiful that fills your lungs and sustains you through interminable days in front of a computer screen, and I was ripping through the heart of it on a bass-boat-green Kawasaki Ninja H2 SX SE. Somewhere to my west, Editor-in-Chief Chris Cantle was doing the same, pinning a Kawasaki Jet Ski Ultra 310R, blasting down Lake Powell in an attempt to beat me to the Wahweap Marina. It was already turning warm, the cattle bedding down in whatever shade they could find. At least, that’s what I was hoping as I gapped the throttle, letting the H2 SX SE and its 197 horsepower reach out and pull that horizon closer, the speedometer stretching wide.

I'd never crossed a cattle guard at that speed, and my mind had just enough time to construct a few fairing-scattering scenarios before the bike blitzed over the metal bars, the tires playing a fraction of a ray-gun buzz before landing back on solid pavement. The grips had barely stopped shaking when I snapped open the throttle again, the supercharger pleading in lament or encouragement, the speedometer a blur of digits. I wasn't racing Editor-in-Chief Chris Cantle. I'd squared off against this desert and the worst bits of myself.

Lake Powell is the West at its most American. When the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation finished the Glen Canyon Dam in 1963, it all but stopped the Colorado River, turning the magnificent and twisting sandstone gorge into one of the largest freshwater reservoirs in the United States. By water, it’s 140 miles from the launch at Hite, Utah, at the northern end to the Wahweap Marina down south in Arizona. The lake sprawls out over the desert, filling the snake-spine path carved by the Colorado over the course of a few million years. The vascular tributaries stretch out into the dust, which is why it’s 250 miles from one end to the other by road.

The wager was simple: I said I could make it from Hite to Wahweap by land before Cantle could do the same by water. He said I couldn’t. He was betting on 110 additional miles, most of which threaded through the well-policed Hopi and Navajo Nation Reservations. Throw in a few small towns, stoplights, at least one fuel stop, and lines of ambling tourists marveling at Monument Valley, and there was scant chance of maintaining a decent average speed. Kawasaki was kind enough to level the playing field, lending us the mighty H2 SX SE, the company’s supercharged, 197-hp, 1,000cc sport-tourer. The machine seems made for this contest. It’s stable at speed and maneuverable enough to tackle the coiled pavement that slinks down off the plateau north of Mexican Hat into the valley below. A 4.5-gallon tank provides a range of at least 135 miles under aggressive riding. It’s also relatively comfortable—perfect for spending a few hours in the saddle. I liked my odds.

Cantle made it easy on himself, securing a supercharged Kawasaki of his own—the Jet Ski Ultra 310R. With more than 300 hp, it has a governed top speed of 68 mph. It also has a cavernous 21-gallon fuel tank, which it needs because at full tilt, it empties in about an hour. That meant at least two fuel stops, crawling through no-wake zones, and contending with slow marina pumps, where all the horsepower in the universe is flat worthless.

The race started a month ago, the two of us sandbagging every chance we got. Neither of us is the losing sort, nor are we so honorable as to keep from putting a thumb on the scale should the opportunity present itself. Cantle would prattle on about unnavigable canyons, rough water, and fuel starvation between marinas. I would remind him how much farther I had to travel, making a show of how I planned to weld the speedometer to the speed limit to save fuel.

We were still at it when we arrived at Hite. The only thing missing was the lake. The water was low. Weeds popped through the surface here and there. Runoff from Rocky Mountain snowmelt swells the Colorado and helps restore the lake in June and July, but that was a month away. It would only take one rock sucked into the 310R’s impeller to leave Cantle and the boat stranded.

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