Today has been an unexciting
ride, but that’s not to say uninteresting. I’ve been running hard and fast (for
me!) on Interstate 40, interspersed with sections of Route 66. Total mileage
was about 450 with 9 hours in the saddle. As I run a self imposed limit of
about 4250 rpm or about 60 mph, I don’t think I did too badly,. I’m now in Arkansas and camped in the Osark’s State Park, having
passed through Texas and Oklahoma . If anybody bothers to come round
to collect the camp fee, it will cost me $10, for that I get not only water,
but hot showers too, pity there’s no temperature control, as a cold shower in
this heat would be more appreciated. Oh well, you can’t have everything, never
happy some people!
I've found Route 66 a bit less
than inspirational too, if truth be told. For most of the day and a lot of
yesterday it ran right alongside I40, and when I took heed of the signs and
routed through some of the towns, I found then downright depressing. It’s
fairly typical of where any town on a major route is by-passed; the town just
dies through lack of passing trade. The towns I looked at were full of
shuttered shops, boarded up buildings and derelict depots. In fact I was
reminded once again of the Nancy Griffith song about the Great Depression. “The
train goes by our silos, silver in the rain, leaves our pockets full of nothing
but the seeds of the golden grain.” So in the end I took the easy option and
stayed on I40!
But once again I jump on too far
and too fast. Two days ago I visited Taos Pueblo, considered to be the oldest
continuously inhabited community in the USA . I took the 30 minute guided
tour, made all the more interesting as it was taken by one of the inhabitants.
It’s quite a small village and as one would expect, there were plenty of
“locals” selling all sorts of crafts and refreshments to the hoards of tourists
and good luck to them. I can’t say I would fancy being under continual scrutiny
from them. Although there are official “opening hours”, I’m sure there must be
some that disregard them and wander hither and thither without a thought for
the poor inhabitants.
Going back even a little further,
on the way down through New Mexico to Taos , just before
crossing the Grand Canyon of New Mexico, I passed a bewildering array of
“alternative” off-grid homes. They were all clustered in one quite small area,
where apparently the whole thing was kicked off by one man. I’ll have to do a
bit more research on that one when I get home as some of the buildings were
incredible and very futuristic in their designs.
From Taos it was then a case of following Hwy 518
across the mountains and finding a camp ground, which I did up yet another
forestry road. But not before I had met a delightful couple of GS riders when I
made a photo stop at the very top of the mountain. Danielle was riding a brand
new F700 whilst her partner, who’s name
escapes me was on a 1200. We talked for quite a while and as we turned to leave, Danielle, herself
an Afghanistan Vet, presented me with a pin which is given to US families who
have lost a loved on in service of their country. I’m not ashamed to say that
we both has tears in out eyes as we parted.
Yesterday would have been Sam’s
36th birthday and to be honest I really don’t remember too much about the day’s ride! I’d
probably have been better to have stayed in my tent for the day. As I wrote on
the 5th anniversary of his death exactly 2 months ago; it may be 5
years that have passed but to me and to Alison, it still feels as raw as ever.
Time may ease the pain a little, but it certainly does not heal!
One thing I do remember is seeing
that iconic (irrelevant?) line of graffiti covered, cars, half buried in the
desert. Yes I stopped and took a few photos, but I’m afraid I left thinking to
myself “why?” Oh, and I got my phone out of my pocket to send the first text of
the trip and… yes, I dropped it and smashed the screen. A perfect ending to a
less than perfect day!
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