Rt 380E Socorro, NM to Brownsfield, TX

I wore my heated jacket and turned my heated hand grips on high. The temperature ranged from 42-52F and the last hour of my drive was through the flat, flat lands of Texas with a hefty 20-30 knot cross-wind trying to blow me off the motorcycle. I stopped about an hour earlier than I had planned because I couldn't take the wind anymore.

I saw a few aliens when I passed through Rosewell, New Mexico, the town famous for a reported UFO landing. I also passed by Trinity, the sight of the first atomic bomb dropped on July 16, 1945. Maybe the UFO landing and the atomic bomb have something in common.

Globe to Socorro, NM

Not long after leaving Globe on hwy 60 E, I entered the Salt River Canyon Wilderness area that looked similar to the Grand Canyon. It was a spectacular view from the winding steep road that took me down to the canyon floor and back up on the other side. I stopped at a vantage point near the top of the canyon to take some photos and to absorb the view. I met some people on their way to Show Low and I got the history lesson of how the town got its name. Many years ago, two partners were not getting along so they gambled the town on the lowest card draw. The man who won drew a duece of clubs which is the name of the main street leading in and out of town.

Jim Hyde's Dual-Sport Off-Road Training Camp

On the twelfth day of my journey, I rode into Castaic, CA and went straight to the Castaic Lagoon to kill a couple of hours before going to the 42 Bar Ranch. Jim Hyde gave us strict orders not to arrive before 5pm on Friday night for our weekend Introduction to Adventure off-road course. After a short nap on the grass next to the lagoon, I got on Hwy 5 North and took the Old Templin Hwy exit near the top of a long steep climb. I followed the road under the highway overpass and took a right onto the crumbling asphalt two lane road. The sign for the Rawhyde Adventure Center was not far up on the left where I encountered my first off-road test of the course. The driveway was a mix of crumbling asphalt, loose gravel and dirt, ruts, twists and turns. At the top of the driveway, was a group of buildings, parked cars and trucks, a tent staked out in the yard and a camouflaged area where a man was directing me to park my BMW next to several other BMWs. The man was waving his arms like he was directing a 747 to park next to the skyway at the airport terminal. I drove in under the camouflage and parked my bike over one of the steel plates used to keep the kickstand from sinking into the dirt. The man introduced himself as Tim and directed me to Jim Hyde to complete my registration for the course. People were coming and going and I wasn't quite sure who was working at the training center and who the other campers were but it didn't really matter. After inflicting more pain to my credit card, as Jim put it, I was given a quick tour of the compound including my sleeping quarters for the weekend which was a cozy cabin with a double sized mattress in the upstairs of a tractor trailer mobile dorm. I unpacked my motorcycle and headed for the bar to meet the coaches and my fellow campers.

The coaches took us from the very basics of handling the motorcycle controls and balancing exercises to more complex maneuvering using counter balance for making tight turns and techniques for getting up and down steep hills. Initially, I was intimidated by the size and power of my motorcycle but by the end of the second day, I was riding on terrain that I would have never believed I could handle. Jim Hyde's training facility is one of a kind, of the best kind.

Texas Is Big

This morning the sky was over cast and it was misting but it didn't take much to get me out of my sleazy hotel room near the beltway in Houston. I took the route 290 through Austin intersecting with Interstate 10 near Segovia a couple hundred miles down the road. To get onto 290 from the beltway, I traveled on a three tier overpass that took me high above the city. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. It was a rush climbing the steep curved highway and coming back down into the city.

I stopped for breakfast in Chappell Hill and it was like going back in time. The tables were covered with red and white checkered vinyl table clothes and the windows were trimmed with matching curtains. An old Coca Cola emblem hung on the wall near the 1950's cash register. Bar stools were in front of a long counter. A young family sat at the table next to mine. The father was wearing a black cowboy hat, denim shirt, Wrangler jeans, a leather belt with silver stars, and cowboy boots with silver buckles. His toddler son was dress almost the identical minus the hat. The cafe had a strong mesquite smell that hit me when I walked in the door. I had a nice Texas breakfast of eggs, ham, grits and a bisquet.

The ride on 290 took me through the hill country. The boggy swamp near the Louisiana Texas boarder turned to desert with scrubby trees, bushes and cactus. Cattle were grazing near an oil derick. Where 290 joined Interstate 10, the geography changed to plateaus. Wind generators were mount on the top of some of the plateaus and the giant rotors where spinning slowly.

The speed on the interstate was posted at 80 mph. Houston to Fort Stockton-500 miles. That's a lot of miles on a motorcycle.

Feb. 11, 2009 Finally Heading West

Motel 6 in Tallahassee, Florida











Traveling south on I95, I was abeam of Brunswick, Georgia at noon where I finally started heading west after 3 1/2 days of riding south. I took the roads less traveled, Rt 520 to 84 West. As I passed through the small towns, most without even a traffic light, I could smell hickory smoke and barbecue pork. Dilapidated trailers and boarded up shops were near the road. I did pass one property that was a paradise with a stately southern mansion surrounded by tall Ponderosa Pine trees and a swimming hole off to one side. I passed a sign near a warehouse advertising candied pecans, a lumber processing plant and a few yards filled with rusted metal treasures and other castaway junk. Trucks loaded with stripped pine trunks were heading towards Brunswick. Crosswinds pushed me sideways as I traveled down the road at 70+ mph. When a gust would hit me, it felt like someone was grabbing my helmet and jerking it. The Spanish moss was blowing in the tall trees like cotton dresses on a clothes line. I was planning to camp but by the time I got to the outskirts of Tallahassee, I was knackered and the sky was filled with dark storm clouds. So I checked into a Motel 6 near the on ramp for Interstate 10. I cooked freeze-dried Katmandu Curry with my Jet Boil stove and whipped up some Chocolate Mocha Mousse with Gram cracker crust for dessert. I called home while lounging at the outdoor pool under a cool cloud covered sky.