OMG, if you can't laugh at yourself...

Then why travel around the country by yourself?

I did something this morning that I don't believe I've done yet on my trip - I set an alarm. The one thing I forgot to mention yesterday was that I found the humidity, big time! 

Even with my cool suit, the final hour of my ride yesterday was not pleasant. The temperature was livable but the humidity was ridiculous. The local (okay, it was a San Antonio TV station) weatherman was saying how rare it was to be late into May with highs only in the 90 degree range. Then they quickly added that all of the recent rain had finally elevated the humidity to extreme levels. The dew point last night was 76 degrees, the theoretical lowest temperature that could be reached before the air was saturated, I.e. 100% humidity. When was the last time you saw fog form with the temperature in the high 70's?

So my alarm was set to take advantage of an early continental breakfast, packing and an early departure. I was on the road by 7 a.m., fed, packed and ready to ride. The weather was similar to previous days, overcast but not raining, and it stayed that way until around noon when the sun finally dispatched the last of the cloudy skies. From that point on it was a matter of how far could I get before the saddle soreness, heat and humidity caused me to say "no mas"?

Shortly after one of my breaks, in the town of Zapata, when I was just getting back on the road, I saw a sign that said "Public boat ramp". This really took me by surprise as I had not thought I was anywhere near navigable waters. As I cruised at 60 mph south on highway 83, I craned my neck to the right and caught a glimpse of a huge body of water, with the bright green grasses of the shoreline visible, behind which was the darker green of deep water with patches of white capped waves. When I saw the rough waters extend to the horizon my mind went into neutral.

It was the ocean! The one point of the Texas border that extended to the Gulf of California near Baja was there at Zapata, Texas. I was so convinced of this that I did a u-turn and rode back to see if I could find a road that went down to the beach. As I re-accelerated toward town I spotted the familiar Tsunami zone warning sign that I had seen in every little dip in the road on highway 1 back in Oregon. I was so convinced that this was the rarely heard of Pacific Coast of Texas that I chased around for 10 minutes to find a road that went down to the beach so I could get a picture. I thought I found a walkway but, shortly after starting down the path between two beach houses I came to a chain, halting my advance. This is the best picture I could get of the Texas Coastline.

It was only as I walked back to my bike that sanity came flowing back to me and I recalled all of the sections of border walls, from Arizona to New Mexico, to Texas that I had seen over the last several days, the time I walked directly across the border to mainland Mexico from just south of San Diego. I had a good laugh at myself and could do nothing but shake my head and make a mental note to schedule that next eye examine as soon as I get back.

A little further down the coast I saw a sign promoting Falcon Lake as the best fishing in Texas. The map makes it appear that Falcon Lake is the very large slack water portion of the Rio Grande behind a dam at Farm to Market Road, with the U.S./Mexican border running down the middle.

A little further down the road, with heat pushing me to find the day's end, I had to stop and take a picture of this.

My Spanish is almost non-existent but that doesn't stop me from singing " you can get anything you want, at Alicia's Su Cocina". And I believe the left side of the sign shows a red guitar. I understand that Alicia doesn't live in Su Cocina, but in a church nearby Su Cocina, with her husband Ray and Poncho the dog.

I had hoped to make it to Brownsville today but the Girls put me on Interstate 2, which runs with highway 83, that I had been riding all day. I had wanted to be on highway 281 and follow the Rio Grande. By the time I stopped to check up on the Girls I was spent. It was only 2:15, but I needed to find a motel, preferably one with a pool. Which is exactly what I did, found a motel, with A/C and a pool and a circle out back for parking.

I'll be literally chillin' tonight so I can get another early start tomorrow.

From air to humidity

Day 27 - Check out my 269.0 mi Ride on Strava: click here

What a difference a day makes...

The previous morning I was awoken by the sound of thundering motorcycles outside my door. This morning it was me breaking the early morning serenity, or would have if there was any serenity. Let me recap my previous motel experience.

My neighbors car at Motel Bien Venido, should have been a clue?

As stated, I should have stayed with a motel with an American name, the Smith Motor Inn would have been a better choice. The Bien Venido (Spanish for the "good sales pitch" was not ranked high enough to get any stars. In fact the only celestial body I saw was the drunk lady on the next wing over mooning the parking lot.

When I entered the room I quickly found, hunted down and killed a bug that would have been big enough to eat my keys. That would have been the end of it for Betty. She had a low tolerance for insects, especially ones big enough to have tattoos. But I am much less demanding.

When I was unable to get the Wi-Fi to stay connected long enough to upload pictures or post my blog I went to the office. The owner of this establishment appears to be from India and lives in a room off the back of the office with his wife and grown child. They also run another business from that room. If you've ever called tech support for your phone and talked to Bob, that's him!

He was just as much help with the Wi-Fi as he is with my phone problems. My problem wasn't listed in his script so he had to refer me to his wife, a lovely woman who is also a Doctor. 

So he called the Doctor, woke her up, he said "Doctor, ain't there nothing I can do". He said "DOCTOR, to relieve this head ache".

She said "let me get this straight, you put put the line in the password box and typed it all up, you put the line in the password box to wake it all up". After three verses she took my IPad, shut it off, turned it on, connected to Wi-Fi, published my blog and handed it back to me. By the time I got back to the room, it had kicked me off. 

I tried repeatedly to log on and became frustrated to no end. Once when I had a (temporary) connection I tried to start Pandora so it would know I am still using it. It played half a song (guess which one?), then froze. I couldn't get it to do anything so I finally shut it off and plugged it in. I shut the light off, laid down and instantly started getting notifications that I was receiving emails, even though I wasn't on line! 

I jumped up, ran across the room and grabbed the IPad to see if it was magically fixed, but it still told me there was no connection. So I again shut the light off. It was then that I became aware of other noises that had been hitherto unobserved.

The toilet was leaking and about every 15 minutes it would auto-flush. The shower dripped loudly onto the tile floor every 30 seconds. And either there were a pack of pachyderms living upstairs or the bug I killed was but a child. I turned the light back on and scanned the area, finding nothing. Light off!

Apparently there is a city ordinance requiring every train that comes through town to make itself known by sounding it's air horn with three shorts and a long, then repeat twice more. At least I assume it's an ordinance because all six trains that entered town on the tracks directly behind my room used the same pattern. 

In-between trains 4 and 5 (which would make it about 4 a.m.) I awoke from my second ten minute nap of the evening. I was sure I heard something on the floor in the corner. I quickly turned on the light and caught 'em! A group of six huge cockroaches were playing poker at an itty bitty little poker table they had set up in the corner. That was bad enough, but their cigar smoke was the straw that broke the camel's back. After all, I paid for a non-smoking room!

I got up for good about 7 and marched over to the office. I was bound and determined to get my money's worth from this establishment and they promised me, in addition to free Wi-Fi, free coffee in the morning. I picked up the pot and could tell it was full, so I opened the top and cut a large strip of the very, very thick coffee (I know it wasn't Espresso Tom, it was too thick), bit a piece off and threw the rest in the waste basket. That'll get even with them.

So I was on the road by 7:30, choosing to put Alpine and the Bien Venido in my rear view mirror before stopping at a saw mill for some piece and quiet. The sky was very heavily clouded and it didn't look good. I traveled all day however with my best friend moving clouds out of the way ahead of me!

There is a theory prescribed to by those of us who have shuttled vehicles on wash-board dirt roads, that every road as an optimum speed at which one can travel. Instead of the tires falling into and climbing back out of every rut they glide nearly across the top of these chatter marks that will knock your teeth out at lower speeds. Thusly, I have come to realize that traveling about five mph under the speed limit and stopping at a sufficient number of historical markers and bathrooms allows my personal weather escort enough time to move clouds around and ready the way. I wish I knew a pilot that could fly alongside some of these clouds and look for Betty's finger prints.

I put in 200 miles by noon and retired for the day at just north of 300, staying once again dry all day. That is not to say it did not rain. There was ample puddles alongside the road and every where I stopped people were asking me how I was handling all the rain storms that have plagued the Texas plains for days. I'm now over 3600 dry miles and it is a miracle.

I have seen some unique rock formations and a couple of very interesting river canyons; other than that it was 300 miles of desert.

From top: Eagles Nest Creek, a unique mesa at the Pecos County line and the Pecos River

A stay at the Holiday Inn Express tonight will be just what I need (it doesn't get more American than that), With lightning quick Wi-Fi I have been able to upload all pictures, a couple of video snippets and six program updates. All is right with my world tonight!

Day 26 - Alpine to Carrizo Springs, Tx

Check out my 306.5 mi Ride on Strava: click here

Another day, another time zone

The "day" started early, too early. About 5 a.m. to be precise. A whole flock of dadburn motorcycle freaks were run in' their dadburn engines right outside my door. There must o' been a hundred of 'em, right there outside my door.

Turns out, they were launching on their own adventure. I truly don't know how many, but they were "riding to the wall", an annual event where cyclists ride to Washington D.C. for those who can not (POW-MIAs). I don't know how many stayed at the motel (I only saw 1 bike when I registered) and how many of them simply rendezvoused there.

I fell back to sleep and finally woke up at 8:30! Yikes, so much for an early start! The late start worked well for avoiding rush hour in El Paso however, which was a good thing because, even without heavy traffic, it took forever to get through the city. I said it before and I'll say it again. Even the lady at the gas station completed my sentence when I noted "they sure don't spend a lot of money..."

"On highway signs? I know"

I traveled down a state highway into Anthony, Tx, so that I could stop at the border and safely take a picture. It was a small, non-descript sign, not at all what you'd expect from Texas.

Another mile or so down the road I found a more ornate sign so I captured it also.

 From there it was a matter of trying to not lose highway 20, as it was to shadow the border and, the way I remembered it, take me most of the way to Laredo. My GPS was on duty again, but the girls were up to their usual antics, trying to get me on the Interstate. They can be quite entertaining if you are not following their lead. They begin to bicker; one says turn left, the other right. At one point, when I was running parallel to the border, she changed to meters instead of miles! Well, at least they're talking again.

I ended up on the Ceaser Chavez Parkway where the high speed lane was marked "H-C". Anyone know what that is?

 Anyway, the H-C lane was a toll road, but if you stayed in the other lanes apparently it was free. Go figure. 

I was shown that my exit was "Alameda Rd. Texas 20" and when I reached the exit I got off the CCP. That was the last time I saw a sign referencing highway 20 for 10 miles or more!

By the time I got to the southern most part of town it was after 11 o'clock. I put another hour in before I stopped for lunch. I had found, and was following highway 20 when it ended and, much to the delight of the girls, I was deposited onto I-10 East (I believe I even heard some high fives). I had to jump off a few exits later to ask directions so I decided it was an opportune time to eat.

I continued on I-10 as directed until I reached Van Horn and exited onto highway Tx 90. Just prior to my exit was a sign indicating I was only about 500 miles from Dallas. But that translates to approximately 1300 P48 miles! So my expected ETA for Dallas is still 6-7 days out.

Google maps shows my route cutting south through a long serious of small towns. The problem I have found is that some of the towns are two abandoned buildings and the third one has been vacated, er... make that three abandoned buildings. Other towns look identical on the map but are much more; complete with gas stations! Because I have about a 240 mile maximum cruising range on a tank of fuel I have to be careful when I choose to refuel.

So I rode for hours through rolling hills, cactus and yucca. I stopped at a few "historical markers" and saw a very interesting building.

 I also crossed into the Central Time Zone! I'm not sure if I'll hit the Eastern Time Zone before I leave the state, but it's possible.

I had planned to stop for the night in Marfa, if only for the Patriotic Historical significance of its name. If you are not familiar with Marfa let me explain. The town name came from an excerpt of one of George Washington's famous quotes, "Marfa, I can't find my teed". And now you know the REST of the story!

By the time I reached Marfa I was ready for a Blizzard at DQ, but disappointed in the mileage covered today. In order to get to Dallas near schedule I need to do close to 300 miles a day, and I was only at 230 with the late start, slow going through El Paso, and losing an hour. So I inquired at the DQ to see if any of the little towns showing on my GPS map were large enough to have fuel and motels. The only one likely to meet this criteria was Alpine, a mere 30 minutes further down the road. 

As the highway climbed for most of the 30 minutes to Alpine I rode through some interesting topography. I also stopped at a historical marker noting where, for over a hundred years, people from Marfa had been seeing strange and unexplained lights. Over 70 reports of sightings have been made, surprisingly all of which were by teens who had gone out there at night to watch for the lights but were caught by local police. They used to call it "watching the submarine races" in Cleveland.

So I'm sitting in my room at the Motel Bien Venidon (first mistake, never stay at a motel with a foreign name unless you are in Paris). The only thing worse than the big bug I killed crawling down the wall is the WiFi signal, which was last seen in Ford's Theater in April of 1865 (and it was reported by the Lincolnshire to be spotty at best)!

I'll have to go to a bigger city tomorrow to see if I can find dependable Wi-Fi, a cit big enough to play 8 man football!

(I'll insert a couple more pictures once I can get them uploaded, or downloaded, whatever)

Las Cruces, N.M. to Alpine, Texas

Check out my 266.7 mi Ride on Strava: click here

From A (to) Z, bookending state lines with a time zone, a continental zone and a mileage benchmark

RAfter the night I had last night I eventually regained consciousness around 7:45. I walked through the foyer and saw a guest book so I stopped and signed in. While writing my neighbor (from the Last Chance Room two doors down the deck) stopped and pointed out the other book that was sitting on the same desk. 

"Ghost stories and other guest experiences" read the cover. He added "it's an interesting no read. We didn't see anything strange last night but if you did...". Perhaps an epilogue to my previous post?

A quick banana, oatmeal and coffee at the hotel, a splash and go at the pump and I was off for a day of riding across nearly 300 miles of desert. With hundreds of miles of desert in every direction at least I wouldn't be needing a weather escort, or so I thought.

From Bisbee I headed south along highway 80 until I came to the outskirts of Douglas, Az. There the road split with truck route 80 bearing left and historic route 80 diving directly into Douglas. It was my assumption that after riding through beautiful downtown Douglas the road would pop out on the south side and rejoin the highway. You know what they say about assuming.

The town was about what I thought it would be but without the bi-lingual signs. There is only one language in Douglas, and it isn't English! (The clerk in the store spoke very good English and was very polite and anxious to point me back to the highway).

On the south side of town, all streets dead ended onto a street running east and west. 

Directly on the south side of this road stood a tall wall with a barbed wire fence on the other side of it, a narrow no-mans-land zone, then, presumably, another fence. This extended as far as I could see in both directions. I had found the Mexican Border!

After snapping a couple of photos I turned around and went north on the eastern side of town, through a residential neighborhood. The houses were all small but well kept, set amongst a very nice school with an LED sign announcing upcoming events.

I found the highway and continued east toward Rodeo (this WAS the first time I've been to Rodeo!) which sat just across the border in New Mexico.

I found a safe place to pull over and take the requisite stateline photo, then it was back to business. I did not realize until I stopped for lunch that 

I had, concurrently, crossed into the Mountain Time Zone

In a very short time I found an unmarked intersection that was, it turned out, N.M. 9, the tiny thread of a highway that paralleled, more or less, the border nearly all the way across the state.

I had chosen this route in an attempt to stay as true as possible to my intended mission: to ride the perimeter of the lower 48 and, wherever possible, avoid Interstate routes and seek out the back roads and their inhabitants.

The outline of highway 9 on Google Maps was so faint that I wondered if it was even paved and/or safe to travel on it. I didn't need to wait long for the answer. The road was indeed paved and, as it turned out, in pretty good shape. As for safety...

I was only about two hundred yards down the road, still accelerating, when two large buzzards swooped down and landed on a piece of roadkill that lay directly ahead of me. One took off again almost before stopping. The other hesitated long enough to show me his best deer-in-the-headlights imitation, then, as quickly as a bird with a six foot wing span can, took off in a belated attempt to stave off danger (his and mine). As all of this was happening I was decelerating, hoping to reach a maneuverable speed by the time he showed which direction he was headed. We managed to avoid each other but I could have plucked a tail feather for a souvenir. I decided that I would eschew the cruise control for awhile, at least until my heart rate returned to normal!

TRIVIA TIME:

Does anyone recall the tag line that appeared on posters and advertisements for the movie "Easy Rider"?

That battle cry echoed through my mind numerous times while planning for this trip. A mere 14 miles down the highway I found what Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson could not, America. It was hiding in PW's diner at the corner of highways 9 and 338 in Animas, N.M. This was what America is, or was, or should be.

It started with a plethora of thank you's and yes sir's during the order taking process and continued through my examination of the well conceived Americana decor. Along with displays of times long since lost were two specific pieces that captivated me. The first I was able to capture in a photo.

If you can't read the printing let me know and I will email a larger copy. It is from a book that I own (words I never would have thought possible for me to utter).

The second piece I may need to seek out because the photo can not possibly do it justice. It is titled Words of Freedom.

At first glance it appeared to be a slightly soiled 50 star American flag. Upon closer examination it is covered with names, facts, quotes, the Declaration of Indepence and the Bill of Rights. Each star is labeled with the state it represented, the date of statehood and names and events relating to the state.

These people are the forgotten America. The people who don't ask anything of their country but the freedom to live their lives without the interference of a political body that can't help but trip over itself and defile the rights of polite hard working people in the name of political correctness and securing votes to an office they have forgotten about in search of power. No politician running for Federal Office will ever go to Animas, but a ham and cheese sandwich and conversation with PW should be a prerequisite of any office.

If you've never seen Easy Rider let me suggest this - don't! It doesn't age well. Instead travel to Animas and meet the wonderfully polite waitress who works there.

Somewhere near Hatchita, N.M. I crossed the Continental Divide, a major benchmark of the trip. About 15 miles further down the road I passed the 3,000 mile threshold also, then shortly after my bike turned 15 (15,000 miles that is). 

Near the small town of Columbus, N.M., where I had been forewarned to stop for gas (last gas station on highway 9), I noticed that the dips in the road where flash flood warnings had been posted for the last several hundred miles were still dry but surrounded by water on both sides. Both in Columbus and here in Las Cruces I was told of a horrible hail storm that swept through yesterday. Had I not decided to get the room at the Castle Rock Inn, I may have ridden directly into that storm.

My plan was to angle north near the Texas border and spend the night in Las Cruces but someone in the New Mexico Highway Department didn't get the memo. My little gem of a road suddenly came to a stop at a T intersection. By itself that would not seem so unusual. However, the stop sign was the only marking at the intersection. No identification of the intersecting highway, no indication what was to the left or to the right. This was a major highway! There had been no announcement signs during the approach (highway XYZ to El Paso), not even an indication that highway 9 was ending!

Three was a sign of to the right that was written in Mexican, saying something about vehiculas comercialis so I knew I didn't want to go that way. So I turned left and went several miles, through several intersections before they gave me a highway number, 28! Without my GPS working that did me know good. I knew I wanted to go near, but not into Texas, then go north on highway 136, but none of the intersections told me where I was headed.

I had wanted to cross into Texas tomorrow and take a picture of the Welcome sign at the border. Once highway signs did start to appear (still without destinations) I could tell just how lost I was. First I crossed the Rio Grande, then saw a Texas shaped highway marker to confirm that I was in the Lone Star State. But then I was on N.M. 128, then back in Texas getting on I-10 east toward Anthony. I saw a "you are now leaving the Enchantment State" but never a "we really don't give a rip about your sign project". So I turned around, being careful to use the west bound lanes (whew, that was close), and rode another 20+ miles to Las Cruces so I could figure it out tonight. 

So tomorrow is another state (hopefully including another sign), as I quickly leave New Mexico behind.

Wish me luck finding Texas!