Austin to Alamogordo

Day 1 - Austin, TX to Leakey, TX

The day of lift off. It seems so long ago from today as I sit on my friend Dave's deck in Sedona, AZ, gin and tonic in hand. Those end-of-the-day aches have become my drinking companion.  

Anyway, I had all of my stuff packed up, got all of the loose ends tied, made some last minute runs around town for provisioning and it was off to meet my riding companions, Ojas and Andy, who joined me on their sportbikes for the first few days. I pulled into Jo's Coffee on South Congress to meet my buddies, only an hour late (which is impressive for me!). As I pulled in to the usual parking spot next to the patio, BAM!, down goes the bike. Great. What a way to start the trip. The bike was heavy enough on its own, but it now had lots of crap strapped to it to make it super top-heavy. It was a slow drop and as it was dropping I saw my riding companions watch helplessly, knowing that they could not teleport over fast enough to prevent it from happening. Well, I got the bike up. No damages besides a scraped up crash bar and head and a good dose of confidence deflation. I had not eaten all day and was nervous about the next few weeks--I just needed to get on the road.

We headed out of Austin on our way to Leakey, TX and we were treated to some beautiful Hill Country riding. The best road I've ridden in Texas is Ranch Road 337, which winds its way from Vanderpool to Leakey and this time was no exception. I'll post a video as soon as I figure out how to compress a 2 gb video file I took using my friend Cory's GoPro camera. Ojas almost got taken out by a kamikaze hawk and I got a direct hit by a dragonfly on the 1cm of skin not covered by by Aerostich space suit. But I can't complain. 

Once we got to Leakey we looked around for places to stay. The D'Rose Inn, which caters solely to motorcyclists and bicyclists, didn't have any rooms. On a Tuesday? Oh well. We rode 2 blocks away to another touristy kind of place. As we were trying to orient ourselves, a jolly old man with a cane and a laugh that sounded like an extended "H" sound steered us in the right direction. Once we settled in, food and libations were in order. The pickings were slim so we settled for some tallboys in paper bags and greasy, greasy Mexican food. Pure class.

Keepin it classy in Leakey

As we walked through the drive-through liquor store in Leakey, between a queue of trucks with dogs in the backs, I spotted some "Mystical Fire" next to the Campell's tomato soup that had been there so long that their labels had faded to pink. Having heard legendary stories from a fellow rider about Mystical Fire and Deep Fried Bacon, I decided to buy some and keep it with me for good luck or if I felt the need for other-dimensional pick-me-up. 

We dutifully sniffed around the bikes over for any signs of trouble. We checked the oil, spark plugs, tire pressure. I felt very manly. I fought the urge to grunt and adjust my crotch--although I lack things to adjust, it felt appropriate. (Later, as we were all turning in, I found it ironic that I was NOT the one wearing pink toenail polish!. The BMW was perfect, as it still is. The oil is only a slightly darker than clear color. As my future career will be in the naming of paint chips and lipstick colors, I will practice on the oil color. That night, I would say the color was: Suburban Villa. 

We settled in for the night and watched strange infomercials about the prostate gland. That night, I had a dream that it had rained in Austin (which is a far-fetched dream) and the infomercial guy saying over and over: "Every man has a prostate gland." I still don't know what they were actually selling.

The next morning my muscles were sore. After 6 weeks of strength training and weight lifting, I had still hurt myself trying to maneuver the bike. The rest of the week will be a trial-by-fire exercise for the muscles.

Day 2 - Leakey, TX to Marfa, TX

I started the day out right by dropping the bike again at the gas station. The damned kickstand is spring-loaded and I am unable to put the kickstand down while sitting on the bike. The cylinder head is in the way. Even if I was 6" taller or was wearing the worlds pointyest cowboy boots, I would still not be able to put the kickstand down. Terrible design. So, to get off of my top-heavy bike, I have to get off using a combination of ninja speed and yoga flexibility and balance to prevent it from toppling over as I swing my leg over. Andy and I mulled over some potential solutions that day and he spotted me in the meantime as I perfected my bike dismount. Thanks Andy! More on the kickstand situation later...

The ride was a long, hot one on Hwy 90 along the Mexican boarder. There were boarder patrols everywhere. I thought it was novel to go through a boarder checkpoint, but I have since become annoyed by stopping for them and their bulletproof identity checking process of asking: "Are you a U.S. citizen" and asking for no proof. I guess they are just checking for stowaways and although my waterproof duffel is large enough to fit 2 dwarves or 6 clowns, they did not check it. 

A swim in the Amistad Reservoir

 We stopped along the Amistad reservoir (a dammed up section of the Rio Grande that straddles the U.S.-Mexico boarder and went for a swim. We got to do some bonus off-road riding to get to a quiet cove. To my embarrassment, Andy schooled me on his sportbike. It must be all that time studying up on Ice Cubes techniques in the movie Torque--or a childhood filled with dirtbikes...one or the other. The swim was a necessary reprieve from the heat. Due to the insane level of Boarder Patrol presence, I partially expected to see a Mexican snorkeling by me as I swam. On the way back the gravel trail to the water, Andy's main fuse popped out. So much for riding a sport bike off-road. Luckily, it did not make it very far and instead of it being thrown into the weeds to become some sort of worshiped temple for ants, it was just under his seat. Sigh of relief and onward...

Sportbikes beware...

The rest of Hwy 90 is a long, lonely, desolate stretch without billboards or most of the typical signs of human existence, which was refreshing. The mind starts to convert from its normal verbal thought language to a more organic, free flowing form, which unsurprisingly is difficult to describe verbally. What a trip...

In the tiny town of Sanderson, the only gas for dozens of miles, I met one of the most entertaining old ladies in a long time. She saw me in my riding suit in the heat and gasped. She cursed men for inventing motorsports. According to her, men invented:

1) Cursed motorsports

2) The corners of microwaves and refrigerators that you can't use and can't clean

3) Vinyl flooring with raised patterns in it that are also impossible to clean

She had come to the store in her flowing white blouse, giant purple sunglasses, and rainbow pajama pants to pick up bread and beer. She was a sassy old coot. She told the clerk about how her neighbor's dog stole her Hello Kitty slipper, how she lived in Seattle next to Pike's market, and how, when she died, her male friend was going to wear her black and gold sequin dress (willed to him) while spreading her ashes in Key West, FL. I had already been hallucinating due to heat exhuastion, but this lady put me squarely in the twilight zone. I wish I had asked her name...

Most awesome old lady in Sanderson, TX

 Marfa, TX

Marfa was a blast. It's like Austin Jr. Ojas, Andy and I stayed with Andy's friend Alex and a hyperactive sock-and-underwear-eating little terrier dog. We had an amazing dinner at the Miniature Rooster, where Alex works. I got all the greens in my system that I could manage, knowing full well that veggies would be lacking in my diet for the next few days. We went out for some drinks, checked out the Milky Way for the first time in months, and chatted with Alex's boyfriend Beto, who is a journalist with the local paper. He couldn't stay out late because the paper was so small he had to deliver the paper in the morning too! Gotta love small town newspapers. We got a late start in the morning and had some delicious breakfast with the maximum % by volume of veggies possible. I got to know Andy and Ojas much better and really like the guys. We talked about revitilization of Detroit, celestial objects, Indian-Pakistani friendship (which I thought was illegal), and Ojas' obsession with chickpeas.

Day 3 - Marfa, TX to Alamogordo, NM

Andy, Ojas and I headed north from Marfa and took 118, which passes by the McDonald Observatory. Gorgeous road. The evidence of recent wildfires was all around. Ojas split off at 166 and returned to Marfa to bomb around for the rest of the day. Andy and I rode a brutal stretch along I-10, stopping only for gas and to admire the bizarre gas station kickknacks and trucker gear. 

Gas station kickknack. This is wrong in so many ways.

The stuff nightmares are made of

Yup...still in Texas

A long straight road through southern NM provided one of the most amazing sunsets I have ever seen. It was a missile testing range all around so there was absolutely nothing human in sight. Except for another useless boarder checkpoint. The rain showers were backlit by the setting sun and I thought I was going to have a "double rainbow moment" inside my helmet. We got into Alamogordo late, but had time to check out White Sands National Monument at twilight and while a lightening-filled storm was rolling in. Sadly, we couldn't camp there because the military base was going to be doing missile testing in the early morning. Serious bummer. White Sands is so surreal -- it looked like a Minnesota winter, but definitely felt like a desert summer. I could have spent a whole week photographing that place. And sledding down the sand hills.

By the time we got back to Alamogordo, all of the rocket, spaceship, and missile-themed restarants were closed, so we stuffed our faces with Chinese food, probably left over from the day's buffet. 

The next morning, German engineering met Michigan engineering. Andy, a Michigan native, and I devised a "Home Depot Steampunk" kickstand solution (ok, Andy did most of the work and I took photos). Now I can put the kickstand down while I'm sitting on the bike. Hooray!

German engineering, meet Michigan engineering

Andy and I parted ways in Alamogordo and I made one more stop through White Sands during the daytime. It was blinding. The sand plow truck driver stopped to ask me about the bike and I got him to take a photo.

One more stop through White Sands before leaving New Mexico

More later...Dave is making dinner and I am being rude. I'm planning on getting up at dawn and riding through the hot desert to the City of Angels