First Two Riding Days

Dayum. This is the THIRD time I've written this. I have a netbook and the keyboard is smaller than a laptop so I keep hitting the wrong keys. I've inadvertently erased my blog twice. One more time... I left Tues morning about 8:30 and rode US 50 to Gunnison. I've driven that road many times but it was much nicer on a bike. Beautiful weather, too. I spent the first part of the ride getting accustomed to the shield. I've never ridden with one and despite putting it on the bike the day before I left and riding a little with it, I found the shield disconcerting. The plastic had causes distortions and while it isn't completely off-putting, it's different enough that you have to constantly adjust your viewpoint. After Gunnison, I took 114 to Saguach (pronounced Sawatch). It was a winding two-lane road with trees, rock walls and a river forming the boundaries of a channel that you ride through. There's a gradual climb to 10,000+ feet. Another fine Colorado scenic road. However... once in Saguach, I took 285 to Monte Vista - a straight road with crosswinds. It's farm country - wide open spaces. From Monte Vista, I headed for Walsenburg on US 160. That's another beautiful road. The leg to the west from Monte Vista to Cortez may be only slightly more scenic but it's not as adventurous. Outside of Alamosa, road crews had one lane open and I was stopped, waiting for on-coming traffic. I talked to the flagman who told me to watch what I was doing as I came down off La Veta pass (just short of Walsenburg). The pass is 9400 feet and very windy. I didn't scoff when he told me campers and trailers are often flipped by the winds. He wasn't kidding. The gales were trying to throw me into the other lane. Control played a key role in getting to I-25. I was on the interstate from Walsenburg to Raton, NM where I jumped off to catch 87 to Clayton. That road is a very lonely 85 miles. Nothing but ranches (think Ted Turner size) with nothing out there but cows, horses and pronghorn.




Unlike other times when I've been on it, the road was in terrible shape. Despite work crews laboring to make that road a New Mexico jewel, I think they may have waited too long. A dirt bike would have been better for that ride. Once in Clayton, it''s a quick ride to Dalhart, TX where I stopped after 520 miles and 11+ hours. Our friends, Scot and Sylvia, met me in the driveway and despite not having seen them for a few years, it was as if I'd just been there a week ago. A nearly 40 year friendship will do that. Scot and Sylvia talked me into staying the night and the next day (it was an easy sell). We stayed up late, playing catch-up, and the next morning, we drove to Amarillo for a few appointments. I'd mentioned to Scot and Sylvia that one of my possible itineraries had me riding to Amarillo and stopping at the Stockyard Cafe. Man v Food was in Amarillo and the challenge was eating a steak at the Big Texan. One of the two segments they usually do for other places to eat in town featured the cafe. They featured chicken fried steak and Adam made the appropriate orgasmic face while he ooohed and ahhhhed. So, in the quest for the best chicken fried steak ever, we decided to put it to the test.





It was a bust. A major disappointment. Neither one of us finished it. The steak was burnt and they used brown gravy (as in the gravy for biscuits and gravy) instead of white gravy (for purists). So, it was the power of TV. That evening, back in Dalhart, Peter, Desiree and Kevin came over for dinner (more old friends from 30 years ago). That was a great day.

This morning I left Dalhart about 8 AM and headed for Kansas. I had a few ideas for travel and decided this would be the way to go. The weather promised to be warm. There's a short piece through Oklahoma and after Guymon, I got a taste of what to expect for the ride. The landscape if flat, farming country. You can see to the end of the planet and there isn't a windbreak anywhere in sight. The crosswinds were only part of the problem as that road (US 54) is heavily trafficked by semis. Each and every one that passed me going the other way on the two lane road created enough turbulence to nearly unseat me. No kidding - it was windy. I stayed on 54 and soon realized the winds were being generated before the storm. The skies turned dark and it looked like dusk. Clouds were heavy - blue, black and purple, swollen with water. I could see rain in the distance and assumed I was going to ride into it. I'd decided to take 61 out of Pratt but I was daydreaming and missed the turn so I stayed on 54. The weather looked like it was going to be hit or miss but the wind didn't abate. I stopped to check the map and thought I could get back to 61 if I took a farm road. This was an empty two lane road with bucolic scenery. I was on it for about 10 minutes when I crested a small hill and saw the blue black purple clouds had unleashed a wall of rain headed my way. I quickly pulled a u-turn (I really didn't want to get into the storm if I could help it) and got back on 54 with a plan to stay on it until Wichita. I kept and eye on the sky and the clouds just didn't look good. I was thinking how the clouds were more like a painting than real when I noticed a red brown cloud. "Now, that's unusual." It was about a 1/2 mile to my left and I quickly realized it was a dust storm. I have no idea how high it went and it looked so unusual I pulled the bike over to take a picture. I was able to snap three shots when I saw how quickly the dust was headed for me.


I shut the camera off and put it away. In that short time, the storm engulfed me. It was so thick I could barely see the motorcycle. I started it and gunned it. I was running blind - really, I couldn't see anything but knew that only a short time had elapsed and the front of the storm had to be less than a quarter mile ahead. I hadn't seen any cars pass so I knew the road was open. My only concern was something coming up behind me, doing the same thing I was doing and in their desire to outrun the storm, they would run over me. So, I gunned it. I broke through into visibility in short order and watched the storm in my rear view mirror. It was following me but I put plenty of distance between that red brown wall of dirt and me. I rode on to Wichita and turned prematurely and so had to chase the road. With no notice, the temperature plummeted at least 20 degrees and the wind picked up worse than anything I'd been in yet. The bike was at an angle and I had a helluva time staying in a lane. I stopped on the shoulder and put on my jacket and had to hold on to the bike - I was afraid the wind was going to tip it. I'd decided to go to Topeka for the night and found the Turnpike somehow. I wasn't on the Turnpike two minutes before the rain started. I stopped and put on chaps, again on the shoulder of the road. The rain was pouring, trucks were kicking up water, the wind was howling and I was cold and wet. I stopped at a rest stop to put on a shirt and that didn't do much to warm me. I rode like that for a few hours and by the time I arrived in Topeka, I couldn't feel anything. At the toll booth, I couldn't get my hand in my pocket for the ticket. They were patient and I finally fished it out. I really couldn't find it because I couldn't feel it. Then I had to go through the same drill in the other pocket for the $5 toll. It was an adventure. Ruppert has accused me of being a fair weather rider. I'll take sunshine and warmth any day over that. I did 480 miles today and they were nearly all challenging. Well, I was looking for adventure...

Planning to see Dean (a friend from law school) in the morning and then take off for MO and IL on US 50.