Another year has passed. And another motorcycle road trip has begun. This year’s trip started off as normal as it could. The only difference from past years was that I started, and remain, alone. It is what it is, there’s nothing that can be done about it so we’ll just leave it at that for now.
I hit the road shortly after 9:00 am with a bunch of different emotions surging through me. Dad’s not with me – Ouch. I’m on a much bigger, MUCH heavier bike than I’m used to – Was this a bad idea? I’m off work for two weeks and get to ride across the country – Yahoo!
The familiar landscapes of the area that I call home faded within the first hundred miles and new ones began to appear. New towns, new country side and new people. After about 200 miles I reached Abilene. I did not get a breakfast this morning and it was lunch time, time to stop for a bite to eat. Took an exit and began my search. The rule is you’re not supposed to eat at a place you can go to at home. But after driving back and forth looking for something unknown, I gave in and stopped at Wing Stop. After stuffing some wings, fries and a couple beers in me, I got back on the road. Only 300 miles to go!
Driving through west Texas is nowhere near exciting. It’s nothing more than a lot of farm land (mostly empty right now), hundreds upon hundreds of wind turbines and all the steel bucking bronco oil pumps you just can’t get enough of seeing. Oh, and miles and miles of straight road.
A couple hundred miles past Abilene I came across a little town called Plains, Texas. Stopped for gas and a bottle of water. Water at every gas stop is very important. It gives you a few extra minutes to stretch and helps to keep you hydrated. Riding long distance dehydrates you more than you realize. You sweat but the wind dries it before you ever even notice. To the west was a large, nearly black wall of cloud and a ton of lightning. Not good, I’m heading west. I spent a few extra minutes deciding what to do. Spoke with a few folks that had come from that direction, none had anything good to tell me. Hail was mentioned once. I had to decide, find a place to wait it out or suck it up and roll on. I chose to roll on.
Leaving Plains I discovered they were having their annual watermelon roundup. What does this mean for me? Detour through town as it begins to sprinkle. I get out of town and just east of the Texas-New Mexico border the real rain hits. The sprinkle turns to big drops, which then turns to lots of big drops and then quickly to an onslaught of water and wind. Oh and lightning. I kept a steady clip of 60mph which I was comfortable with (speed limit is 75) and only had to let two cars pass. No one was moving very fast. The rain was not fun. The wind raised the pucker factor. The lightning? The lightning maxed the pucker factor. What’s the pucker factor? The pucker factor is basically a 1-10 scale of how puckered your sphincter (butt hole) is. Pucker 1 – Not so bad. Pucker 10 – You’re pucked up tighter than a seal’s ass. Anyway, the lightning was scary to say the least. As soon as you cross the border into New Mexico the land becomes as flat as can be and there is NOTHING out there. No farm land. No wind turbines. No pumps. With the only thing higher than me on the landscape being wooden poles lining the side of the road and lightning striking ground all around, that pucker factor was pretty maxed out.
After about forty miles the rain finally began to let up. Sunlight could be seen ahead and the lightning was falling further and further away. When out on the road, the best view of a storm is in your rearview mirror. I passed through the flooded streets of Tatum and then the roads began to dry up. With the weather cleared I could finally start looking around and see the nothingness that surrounded me. There is a whole lot of nothing in West Texas but there’s still growth, bushes and trees. This part of New Mexico has very little growth over a few inches. But the nothingness holds a beauty all it’s own. There are a lot of shades of green. The road and landscape is mostly flat but there are hills and swells here and there. Looking out I could see nothing all the way to the horizon. There’s something about being able to see so far in front of you that the clouds meet the land. Earth and sky meet. It’s so much different than seeing it on the coast. Seeing the sky touch land and seeing it touch the ocean just isn’t the same. The land out here is still mostly untouched by man.
As I draw closer to my destination I come upon a hill and as I crest the hill I see the road laid out before me. It’s straight of course and seems to go on for miles. At the end of what I can see, the road shines under the light of the sun. The rays of sunshine through the clouds create heavenly beams light everywhere. As I rumble on I eventually reach the shiny part of the road. As it turns out, the road was shining because it is wet. More rain. But, it’s sunny rain. No wind and no lightning. But rain at 60+mph still stings.
This rain finally passes too. As I get closer to Roswell I start to see a mountain ahead of me. This mountain isn’t huge, but it’s the only thing breaking the horizon. It’s far enough away that the entire thing is only one color, a dark shade of purple. I don’t know what mountain or hill this is, but I think it may have be Haystack Mountain.
I make it into Roswell, New Mexico. At first it doesn’t look like much. Pretty small town. I expect a couple of gift shops and maybe a diner and motel. I was wrong. Roswell has about 50,000 residents plus all the tourists. I stop and call around to find a place to pitch tent. As it turns out, no one in town offers tent camping. The only place close is 15 miles BACK. It’s a state park. And there’s more rain expected. So, another adjustment, got a room for the night. I’ll get a good night’s rest and head for Winslow, Arizona in the morning. Hear there’s a really neat corner there.
The Motorcycle Diaries of an Easy Rider 