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.