Category: Route 66 ’23

The first few days of a long trip always involve a bit of re-packing and stacking as you figure out the optimum stowage and loading. Today was no different, though I was pretty quick about it. Maybe I am learning something from all these years of experience on the road.

Anyway – I did the loading and stuff this morning, and set off just after 7am. The day was already gorgeous, with blue skies and warm sun touching everything. After the past 6 weeks of rain in Colorado, I am very ready for sunshine. I took the highway to start with, as the old 66 ran along where it is now, but left after about 15 miles and joined the old road. It was a joy, for nostalgia sake. I have dreamed of driving Route 66 since I heard Chuck Berry do his take on Nat King Coles song (Cole didn’t write it, but he was the first to record it). Now I was on the fabled road, and feeling good about it, too.

I appreciated the olde time road signs and markers identifying Route 66 everywhere. You certainly can’t miss the fact that you are on it. The towns I went through were small and sleepy (who isn’t at this time on a Saturday morning?), and I enjoyed the quiet roads.

My first destination was Bernalillo, about 40 miles from Santa Fe. I was visiting a Casino – of which there are far too many in this part of the world. Those of you who know me would immediately ask “Brad, you don’t like casinos, why did you go to one for breakfast?”. Well, let me tell you – our good friends Younes and Abby were staying there for the weekend, and I couldn’t ride right past without stopping to say hi. We have a nice get-together and a mediocre breakfast (confirming – as if I needed it – my suspicion about casinos).

Back on the road, I soon rejoined the main motorway (I25) towards Albuquerque (I absolutely love the name and spelling). I dropped off the big road into the old town, and visited a few 66 highlights. The first was a 66 diner, which was fabulous.

I stopped at a memorial statue to “The Pioneer Mother” of America – the countless thousands of women who crossed the wild west in covered wagons looking after the families so that the men could hunt for food and shoot native people for fun. All in a pioneers job description.

I realized that I had lost my goggles somewhere between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. I think the were on my helmet and flew off somewhere. Anyway, doing the Route 66 roads where you pootle along at a sensible speed is fine without goggles, but if you have to do any motorway mileage, where speeds reach up to 1,000 miles per hour, then goggles are a must to keep the eyes from drying out or filling with dust and specks of spattered insect. So I rode back from whence I had come for 15 minutes to the nearest Harley store, in order to replace the eye protection.

It was a very busy summer Saturday morning at the Harley shop, and there were all kinds of fun and festivities underway. Lots of sales people swooping in on you as soon as you walked in, but they are generally a good natured bunch, and like a good chat. I browsed for a bit, bought the goggles, and returned to the road.

A good hour or so of non-motorway riding followed. It got pretty hot, and there were some long stretches of pretty much, well, nothing. Sand, stone and scrub abound, along with the odd horse, abandoned motel or vehicle workshop/graveyard. Why are there so many scruffy looking places, with 1980’s advertising outside, playing host to so many dead cars and trucks? I now know where America sends it dead cars. I also saw a lot of (unrelated, I think) trains. More than one would usually expect to see.

I stopped in Grants – a small town which was pretty around the centre, but full of sadly abandoned or empty businesses, motels and gas stations on the outside. There is a famous Route 66 photo opportunity there, so I stopped to take advantage. In the 5 minutes that I was there after taking my picture, two more cars came through and did the same.

Gallup, New Mexico, is mentioned in the famous song, so I chose it for tonights accommodation. The motel room is a little nicer than yesterdays, but the pool here is broken or lost or something, so sadly I could not take a dip. The afternoon is a warm 25 Centigrade (not sure what the conversion rate from Roubles to Euros is to help you with the American temperature). I unpacked and did a bit of admin in my hotel room, then hopped back on the bike and rode a mile down the road to Grandpa’s Grill. Small and rustic, but great spare ribs. No alcohol, but I didn’t need the margarita like I did last night to compensate for the bad food service. Now back in the hotel room to blog like a good ‘un, and then plan to route and some stops for tomorrow. See you in Seligman, Arizona.

Yay. I am on the road and underway. Currently sat in a restaurant in Santa Fe, having some kinda ‘rita and waiting for my food. I skipped lunch, so I am very ready for all the things. It has been a long day mile-wise, but easy enough on the travel.

Yesterday did not go that well. If you read the previous blog entry, you will know that I had a long wait for my bike to be serviced and readied for travel. In the end, I waited 5 hours past the time it was supposed to be ready. I am a patient person, but this was quite a lot to ask. Then, it was raining hard on the ride home (about 40 minutes), and I got totally soaked AND battered by hail to boot. Not fun in the dark.

Then, when I got home, I realised I had lost the bike key along the way – sad face indeed. It had fallen out of my pocket when I fueled up, so a quick call to the gas station confirmed that they had found it, so my wonderful Lena went off to the gas station (about 20 miles away) to get my keys while I packed. The bike starts if the fob is in the proximity of it, so obviously the key had fallen next to the bike so I could get it started, but then the bike would not respond once I got home.

Anyway, it all felt a bit much, but I got everything sorted and ready-ish, and we went to bed quite late. I was up early with excitement. I tried to sleep a bit more, but it wasn’t happening, so I finally got up, let the dogs out (now we know who!!), then showered and loaded up.

I did have a cup of coffee before starting out, but my tradition is to breakfast on the road. About 80 miles from home, after riding through a bit of rain and a fair amount of cold (it was about 6 or 7 degrees C, which is about 90 million in fahrenheit I think – who understands these things?), I stopped in Buena Vista for a great bagel and a good cup of coffee at a lovely little spot. We have rafted in Buena a few times, and it is a cute little mountain town. The day was warming up a bit, but rain still threatened, so I kept my wet gear on.

The ride to Santa Fe is kinda boring. At least it is the way I went. I followed the highway that we live right next – US 285 – for most of the day. Aside from the odd detour dictated by Google maps, the 285 took me pretty much door to door.

Poncha Pass was quite pretty, and I have not been through much of the terrain that I crossed today, but large tracts of it were unremarkable. I transited into New Mexico around the middle of the day, by which time the scenery was pretty uniform: scrub and dry sand and rock. It was wonderfully warm though. I stopped for a comfort break somewhere about 90 minutes from Santa Fe, and the temperature was 28 degrees (again, about 90 something million in fahrenheit). I de-layered to suit, and changed my gloves to the lightest pair.

I always travel with multiple pairs of motorcycle gloves. If one gets wet, you can switch to another pair while the first dries. Some are suited to wet or cold, and some are light and breathe nicely. I have three pairs with me on this trip, a heavy, medium and light pair for maximum flexibility. My medium pair did not age well, but Lena did an emergency sewing job yesterday, so hopefully they will hold up for the trip.

Anyway, after a lot of highway miles and a couple of wee/fuel stops, I arrived in Santa Fe mid afternoon. I went first to the local Harley Dealer – I found that my handlebars needed a slight adjustment to make my riding position more comfortable. The local dealer was very near my motel, so I stopped there, and one of the service people was very helpful and tweaked the angle of the bars in a quick minute. I browsed through the store but didn’t buy any paraphernalia (I have almost no space on the bike). Then, on to the motel, which was about 4 minutes away.

The lodge is fine – I worry about cheaper accommodation, even if I rely on ratings on booking.com for my guide. There was a small pool, so I unloaded the bike and took a dip. I am currently about 10 minutes walk from the motel at a little plaza with a few restaurants and a cinema, enjoying my second margarita and overcoming the disappointment I felt when they brought my starter and main course within 3 minutes of each other. Tequila is a wonderful thing.

I am going to head back to my sumptuous accommodations shortly, where I plan to try review the hours of footage my GoPro captured today, and see if there is anything worth keeping.

Tomorrow morning I get onto Route 66 almost directly from the motel, the route which will accompany me (or, I think more fittingly, I will accompany the famous roadway) and follow it for 1000 miles to the Pacific Ocean. Do come back for more episodes each day. TTFN

I am cutting things fine. Which I am not comfortable with. By this stage of any bike trip, I have been planning for weeks, and all is ready to rock n roll. But not this one.

About 2 weeks ago I decided to trade in the bike I have been riding for the past 2 years. I loved it, and it is the most comfortable bike I have ever ridden – with all the mod cons; CarPlay, luggage and the rest. However, it was a monster, weighing over 900 lbs dry. It was really tough to maneuver and handle at parking speeds, and I was always afraid I’d drop it. I never did, but it is too much for anyone to pick up, so I would be screwed if I was anywhere vaguely remote (which I often am on my trips).

Anyway, it was time to go back to a ride that was easier for me, and the decision of which bike to trade it in for was a no-brainer. I have always loved the Softail Heritage Classic, and so I swapped the beast for a smaller (but still substantial) piece of beauty. This is my 3rd Heritage Classic, which tells you how much I love them. Of the 10 bikes I have owned in my long life, 30% of them are Harley Davidsons own Heritage Classics.

Anyway, digression over with. I got the bike, but needed a bunch of add-ons before I could undertake a serious tour. Also, the bike needs a full service before I head out on such a ride, so I booked it in for all the things – today was the day. It wasn’t possible any earlier, so a 90th minute service and fitting it was to be.

I brought the bike to the dealer yesterday, so they could start work first thing today, and they said it would be ready for collection at 3 pm today. Due to Lena’s work schedule, She could only drop me at the dealers around 1pm, so I turned up, prepared to wait patiently for a couple of hours. However, I was politely informed that “he hasn’t started on your bike quite yet – we are rather busy”, and that it would still be a few hours before it was ready.

Fortunately, I had brought my maps and laptop with me, in case of just such delay – so I have spent the last 4 hours patiently waiting for my iron horse to be groomed and fettled in readiness for my odyssey. I am not sure how much longer I will have to patiently wait (or impatiently – the waiting is the same) until it is ready – but it may be a bit longer yet. I will update.

Meanwhile, I have been poring over maps, doing some housekeeping emails etc, and soaking up the rocking beats that the Harley shop have been playing full blast all afternoon. Tonight happens to be a bikes, music and competition night, so the greasy biker public are starting to turn up. I assume things that are probably along the lines of free drink, burgers or hot dogs, lots of leather and loud music, and plenty of talk about replacing gaskets, how many horsepowers per square mile and other such aficionado talk that has always been beyond me. I love riding comfortable bikes, and admiring pretty bikes, but I have never been a geek about them (or pretty much anything else). Still – a lot of folk are, so more power to them.

Tomorrow is a very easy day navigationally. I leave home, and within a couple of miles arrive on highway 285. I follow it south for the best part of 320 miles, and turn up in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Long ride and will be tiring but I love love love being on the road with my bike, so bring it on.

I never leave things so late. I love the planning element of trips – but this trip was going to be improvised, until I changed my mind and decided on a plan just a few short days ago. So I am plotting and planning and booking motels like it is going out of fashion. Come what may, I will be heading out Friday morning (which is in about 35 hours time).

My rough itinerary and mileage look like this: