I packed and loaded the bike the last few days before my trip. Normally I would make sure to get to bed early before a trip, but my cousin and a friend were over for the 4th of July. Still, by holiday weekend standards, I hit the sack early and was on the road by 8:30am on July 5.
I headed east on I-40 headed for Albuquerque. The road lead me up and out of our mountain valley and in fairly short order, the sparse scrub brush was replaced by pine trees. I filled the gas tank and hydration pack at Williams and picked up a protein snack of Elk Jerky. By the time the first fuel stop is over, I’m typically settled in and ready to let the big V-4 under me eat up the miles. This was no exception. Everything was in order, this was going to be a good day.
If I believed in omens, I might have turned around at Flagstaff. I knew there were certain risks inherent to taking a 30 year old motorcycle with 40 year old luggage on a 3,000 mile trip. As I passed a car on the freeway and headed down a hill, I looked in my mirrors and saw something square and flat and black bouncing and flipping down the road. “Weird. I didn’t see anything in the road….If there was nothing in front of me but there is something behind me then.. UH-OH!” My left hand reached back and patted the closed cover of the left saddle bag. “Whew!” The right hand however only met air. A quick glance backward under my arm confirmed that the right saddle bag cover that should be vertical was now horizontal. A rapid flick of the turn signals and glance in the mirror gave me the clearance to move to the right and start braking aggressively. As I brought my steel steed to a halt on the shoulder at the top of an off-ramp, I continued to monitor my mirrors to make sure no distracted cage driver missed seeing me in front of the. That attention to my mirrors gave me the opportunity to watch something else fly out of the right side of the bike.
I turned off the engine and got off on the right side of the bike to stay away from traffic. A quick glance down told me that a windbreaker and my laptop case appeared to be missing from the bag. Sure enough, the jacket was only about 20 steps away and in perfect condition. Now, I had to start hiking back up the hill trying to watch both sides of the road. Each time I would see something it was fortunately on a shoulder. But I still ended up crossing traffic 3 times. Finally near the top of the hill was a very familiar black nylon case sitting on the shoulder. I retrieved the case and looked in the open zipper to see that what was once one object was now a series of layers that might be interesting to look at when I was someplace safe and I had broken the news to my wife.
As I turned back toward the bike, I was hot, panting, and acutely aware of the time I had lost. As I was thinking about what all this would mean, I heard a loud “chirp, chirp” behind me. There was a DPS officer coming to a stop and talking on his radio. He got out of the car with a very friendly, “How ya’ doin’?” “Well, good other than this,” as I tipped the open end of the bag toward him. I relayed the story about seeing the bouncing object and stopping as soon as I could leaving out the part about crossing traffic lanes. Honestly, I expected a tongue lashing for losing something in the road. Instead I got, “Well, I saw the bike and came looking for you. I’m surprised you saw it. Hop in the car, I’ll take you back to your bike.” I got out with a “Thanks for checking on me,” and his reply of, “Have a better day. Ride safe.” Once I got the jacket and laptop back in the bike I rolled down the off ramp to a wider, safer spot where I then went about making sure the lid wouldn’t open again by wrapping the bag in a bungee net. I fired up the willing beast and waved over my shoulder as I headed back onto the interstate.
After that, the day really went back to routine. I rolled along between rocky cliffs and billboards advertising moccasins and leather hats. Seemingly in no time, I was exiting the freeway to follow the voice that lead me to a Police memorial and xeriscape garden. I pulled out my rally flag and documented my visit to this memorial.
I headed back north to head for Angel Fire and the beautiful memorial there. But, I lost more time trying to fiddle with the GPS and trying to figure out how much of the storms I would have to ride through. I finally decided that it would likely be 9:00 pm by the time I got to Angel Fire. Then I still had to head back south east to get to Las Vegas, NM for my campground. Since it would be too dark to really see the memorial, I decided to reroute and head for bed.
I was pleasantly surprised that my camp spot had a picnic bench which elevated my bed nicely and kept all of my gear close by.
I was pleasantly surprised that my camp spot had a picnic bench which elevated my bed nicely and kept all of my gear close by.
As I got to Clovis, NM I thought about a guy that lives there. I wanted to say hi to him, but had no idea where he lived and knew there was a good chance he was out on the road anyway. Somewhere around the start of town I tooted my horn and tipped my helmet thinking about Steve even though he’d not know it even if he was on the side of the road.
Despite the continued cloud cover and intermittent rain mixed with heat, the Texas state line felt like a small victory. Riding was getting more difficult because of both. One stop I asked permission to use the outside hose. Once the water was finally running cold, I stuffed the hose first down the back of my jacket, then the front. Sweat wasn’t keeping me cool anymore, it was just too humid. My jacket works much like a evaporative cooler. It effectively channels air over my torso and out the back of the jacket. It’s enough airflow that if I’m not careful, I can actually get chilled for a few minutes. But, like an evaporative cooler, once the air gets humid, the cooling effect is gone. Stopping in the shade to talk a coworker through a problem for a few minutes and the cold water did exactly what I needed. I felt much better.
Now I was able to focus on nothing but sitting there and twisting that on my way to Midland. When I got to Midland I arrived in the downtown area in more traffic than I normally deal with, but probably less than what rush hour brings. After I got my photo, I walked over to some construction foremen to make sure that this pedestal really did at one time hold the statue of liberty I was looking for. I also learned that after this county building is torn down and the replacement is erected that the lady will be back.
After that I simply laughed at myself all the way to my next stop at San Angelo. This Vietnam Veterans Memorial demanded that I not simply document my visit and move on. No, this was a time to do exactly what the Tour of Honor is all about, “Ride to Remember.”
From San Angelo it was a relatively short jaunt to my hotel in Brownwood. The next day was my first workday and I enjoyed the short ride out to the plant. It rained off and on much of the day. But the real rains hit Wednesday. Shortly before noon, we were getting reports from truck drivers that the direct route between the plant and town was closed because the creeks feeding the lake had flooded the road. Fortunately, but the time I rode out to see the lake then head back to town, the road was open. Nevertheless, for a lake that had been dry just a few weeks earlier, this was pretty impressive.
When I got to the hotel, much of the parking lot was roped off.
Fortunately, by the time I left the plant Thursday afternoon, the road over the river was open again and I was able to make a beeline for Florence Texas where I would find food and friends waiting for me. I was just expecting fellow TOH state sponsors, buddies Mark and Glenn. But after Glenn met me at the highway and lead me through the ranch property to Mark’s house, I found that there were several others there also. We feasted on venison chili and cornbread and lots of great conversation and laughter. I rode with Mark in his golf cart out to the gate to let everyone out. When we got back, Mark opened up his shop so I could pull the bike in. I discovered that not only had I lost turn signals earlier in the week, I now had no headlight either.
I was tired enough that I got very frustrated until Mark assured me that we would fix it in the morning or take it to a nearby shop. He kept reminding me, “It’s only a ride until something goes wrong. Then it becomes an adventure.” I’m not sure if he knew that was probably the best thing he could have said. It worked. I was only a little distracted when he showed me his private museum. It is centered around honoring his father who was a gunner on a B-17 in WWII. I was a little distracted still and probably didn’t enjoy it or share his enthusiasm as much as I normally would and maybe should have. But he took this photo as my payment for staying at his wonderful home.
The next morning I packed up and carried everything downstairs in the guest house before texting him. I hated to wake him, but I was feeling the morning slip away, especially since I needed to get a headlight working and didn’t know how to get into the shop. Fortunately, my mind was working better and by the time we had coffee and were ready to head to the shop I was certain that I knew not only what was wrong, but how to make a quick and dirty fix. Fortunately for me, Mark had an in-line fuse and a toggle switch that he didn’t need anymore. So, we were able to bypass the headlight relay and wire in a switch. It was ugly, but effective.
I had a pretty good rest at what was the best Americas Value Inn I had ever stayed at. I got a banana from the hotel breakfast room and went over the bike, checking the oil and the repairs. Then I took off for New Mexico. I usually bring a rock home when I travel. This time, the beautiful bride has said she’d really like some turquoise. I stopped at the very first “Indian Blankets, Moccasins, Jewelry” sign that I saw and found something for each of my girls. Then I continued on to the next memorial I would try for just outside Silver City. On the property of the old Fort Bayard is a Buffalo Soldiers memorial.
After the last work trip was predominantly a failure, I felt some pressure to be successful this time. Fortunately I was. So I was able to enjoy new scenery, good time and food with friends and even a little adventure. A car or plane might have been simpler, but I couldn’t be happier with my decision to ride and experience everything that came my way.