Land of Enchantment

Well, I wrote a post this morning before we checked out of the Blue Swallow Motel in Tucumcari.  It was titled "Tucumcari Tonight" which was the siren's call beckoning for 300 miles, kind of like South of the Border to us east coasters.  But... it took forever to load and one of the things I mentioned is how we'd been getting in late, blah, blah, blah, so I shoved my phone in my pocket while it uploaded, and we took off.  I fought with it the rest of the day, and I can still see it on my mobile app, but it's apparently lost in the ether of the dry plains.

Suffice it to say that we've had an adventurous two days here, having spent some quality time on Route 66, as well as the high altitudes of Santa Fe -- which was on the original 66 for a handful of years in the beginning, but not since 1932.  But technicalities aside, how can you not visit Santa Fe?

So we did, along with Pecos National Monument on the way up the hill, and passing through the San Felipe reservation on the way back down to Albuquerque, from where today's report is submitted.  Most people don't realize that Santa Fe is way higher in elevation than Denver, and it was 10,000 feet over Glorieta Pass on the way in.  I had a sweatshirt on until noon.

Now, here it is 10:00 again and it's my turn for the shower.  And the laundry is dry and needs to be rolled.  We wear fresh everything else every day, but jeans are expected to last a couple days.  We know we won't be able to do laundry for the next 3 nights, and since the we're 5 days in and we both got carnita juice on our jeans from the cart at Governor's Palace today, that left us on our last pair.  What if we want to go out one night in Vegas?  So we did wash tonight, and enjoyed our evening cocktails on the stoop of the laundry room right next door, and now we're good for another 8-9 days easy.

We've been booking rooms same day or one day in advance so far - tomorrow is our first real reservation in Mexican Hat, Utah, in the middle of Monument Valley.  It will be our first real deviation from Route 66 since we picked it up in Springfield MO, but like MacArthur, we shall return. 

Oklahoma is OK

Their slogan, not mine. And wouldn't you want to tell the world that you're a bit better than just OK?

Anyway, I'll tell ya what's better than OK: 75 mph speed limits! We spent the last 60 miles or so truckin' down the Will Rogers turnpike, and I gotta tell ya it was awesome with traffic cruising along at our usual freeway speed without a care in the world. In the interim, we saw some cool stuff, some oddball stuff, and ran everything from concrete 4-lane to a few miles of dirt road on the old Ozark Trail. Things went wrong in threes for us today. For me, it was three wrong turns-from a guy who regularly goes 2,000 miles on back roads without making any. But I knew the minute I missed 'em, so no blood, no foul. Donna started off with a broken strap on her main bag first thing in the morning, but we worked through everything, had a great, sunny day of adventure, and we're safe, sound, and on schedule.

Tomorrow is the rest of the Sooner State and the Texas panhandlers.

The Mother Road

Well, we made our 1,000 miles, but in 26 hours, not 24. We stopped at Ozark H-D anyway and got a poker chip, but no witness form.
About 80 miles down the interstate, we jumped off and our Route 66 adventure began. After a ride through Springfield, we stopped to see our friend Gary Turner at his old Sinclair station garysgayparita.com

 and give him a vintage PA tag and a LV HOG license plate to display. He again told us to help ourselves to a free water or pop and some fresh watermelon, and gave Donna a free t-shirt for her birthday.

He kept  us entertained for over an hour and also recommended a nice little mom-and-pop hotel 30 miles down the road in Carthage, where we're enjoying a beer on the porch waiting for our pizza to show up.

Tomorrow night we'd like to find a bed

somewhere west of OKC, so we don't get caught in the morning rush. It will be a much more relaxed day of maybe 300 miles. Weather is supposed to be hot but no chance of rain. We'll take it!

Foiled!

Donna and I respect all colors and creeds, but right now we have I bit of a beef with the Jehovah's Witnesses. We were trying to do another Iron Butt on our new bikes, and despite rain and some minor delays, we were on schedule at midnight, 600 miles in. Approaching Indianapolis, we pulled of for gas and a couple hours' sleep.
The Comfort Inn parking lot looked full, and the paper sign taped to the door confirmed what we suspected. What we learned next door at the Holiday Inn was that "Indy is booked."
Huh?
Apparently the Witnesses are in town and there is not a room to be had. With rain blocking our path (RIDING IN RAIN AT MIDNIGHT IS NOT COOL) we spent 2 hours & WAY too much money finding a way to avoid it. Not the first time we had to do that, and won't be the last.and it's not the last time we'll be doing an Iron Butt, either. But this one is screwed.
We got some better sleep than expected, and we should be back on track tonight near the Oklahoma border.

Adios

For all the preparations that have been progressing piecemeal over months, and to some degree, years, it sure did come down to the wire.  In fact, we're still not quite as prepared as we'd like to be as far as points of interest for this trip, but I concede that we're a lot more prepared than we need to be. 

As you read previously, the bikes themselves have been ready for some time - in fact, we did have a disastrous cascade of problems from something as simple as a tire change, but since it was done a month ahead of time, I had plenty of time to fix someone else's errors.  No last-minute frenzy. How bout THAT for a change of pace?

And we do have a turn-by-turn route that's good for the first 8 days and 3,500 miles or so (which we will promptly deviate from at the earliest opportunity.)  So, what the hell, right?  At this point, all that's left is to fire 'em up and point 'em west. Time to do what we do best.  Adios, amigos.

California Dreamin'

It's that time again...

Once again, our bikes have been gone over with a fine-toothed comb,  and are ready (early!) and chomping at the bit to get out on the open road.  The Chrome Princess and  I are putting the finishing touches on our preparations, and I'm working out the fine nuances of at least some of the route, in an effort to trace some historic paths and seek the wonders of the world.  Lord knows if the World's Largest Lego House is somewhere along our path, I'd be devastated to find out later that we missed it.

We leave in two days.  You can guess from the title what's in store, but I'm tellin' ya that ain't the half of it.  Like I said in the last post... IT'S GONNA BE EPIC.

Check Ride

Just got back from our favorite bike rally event, Johnstown Thunder in the Valley.  It's our favorite for a bunch of reasons, although the home fries at the Corner Coffee Shop would be enough to win it.  But the Laurel Highlands and Appalachains are some of the best riding in the country, and when you're back in town for the night, it's nothing short of a love fest.  The locals all come out to see the sights, and all the hotel and waitstaff in all the local joints find biker shirts to wear.  Law enforcement keeps a watchful eye out but prefers to stay in the background.  Despite Donna riding the mechanical bull with one of the hired hoochie mamas and getting Jagermeister poured straight down her neck, and the craziness that goes on at the ABATE party across the Stoneycreek River, it's a pretty reasonable scene.  You don't have to worry about getting run over by a drunken idiot doing a burnout or getting caught in the middle of a gang fight.  And with three stages spread across the easily walkable downtown, there's something fun everywhere you turn.

In the process, I rode out and back with WAY too much gear for a 4-day trip.  Donna mounted her windshield, which she swore she would never own, and of course I did as well.  I never swore that same oath, although I did say it would be a cold day when I put saddlebags on that bike. Yet I did, and despite the fact that like the windshield, they are easily removed without a trace in seconds, I suppose it's a slippery slope from here to owning a geezer glide.

But those bags needed to go along, along with the tank bag which had served me well for all those miles on my old Sportster.  That had also never been on the new bike, and where it fit the Sporty perfectly, it only fits "upside down" on Gretchen.  All because this new configuration needed to be tested "locally" (being a relative term) so I wouldn't find out that it doesn't work for shit three days into our 2014 road trip, which will be... well, check back and see.  It's gonna be epic.