Doing the deal

I first want to apologize for the delay in getting this post up, it has been a crazy exhausting couple of days.

That said, getting to San Antonio was quite the adventure…

I left Carlsbad, NM early in hopes of getting to San Antonio early enough to get registered for the convention and wander around a bit. Then someone else had other plans for me…

Evidently I was meant to set a new personal best for miles ridden in a day, and 551 miles later I arrived in San Antonio. The amazing part is that it didn't even feel like it until I stopped.

So here's what happened:

I made the run from Carlsbad to Pecos, TX without any problems, the day was looking wonderful, although a little rainy, and once I hit Texas traffic was nonexistent. When I stopped in Pecos for a quick rest I encountered a drunk Indian intent on telling me a story of some kind. I can't, for the life of me, tell you what the story was about. Between his drunkenness, lack of teeth, and Texas accent communication was a lost cause. I mostly just stood there and nodded, occasionally throwing in a little chuckle once in a while to make it seem like I was following him word for word. Then his ride showed up and he was getting in and I understood him perfectly, this was the important part for him, he said to the driver, "I need a beer." The words came out clear as day, and I was immediately grateful that I did not have to be searching for a drink at 10am just to feel ok with the world.

I got back on the road and headed for Fort Stockton where I stopped again for some food. When I was getting ready to leave I encountered Oswaldo, a fellow motorcyclist headed East. I asked him where he was headed, and he said San Antonio. We had a brief talk about it being nice to run into each other, and he introduced me to Raphael, also headed the same place.

Oswaldo, as it turns out, was coming from Juarez and Raphael from Tucson. They spoke to each other in Spanish and I tried to hop in when I could in English. We all said that we hoped to see each other over the weekend and off I went. This all seemed fairly innocuous, but a nice exchange given our family bond.

A little way down the road I stopped at a rest area to get my raingear on because the sky ahead was looking ominous. I got caught up talking to a trucker about bikes and meanwhile watched Oswaldo ride by on his bike and Raphael pulled in for a break. We said hello and then went on East.

This is where things started to change. I was on track to get to town about 6:30 despite the long ride. I was excited and had been keeping my talks with people short to get back on the road. About 20 miles past the rest area I was about to pass Oswaldo and he waved me over to the side. He pulled up next to me and pointed at his gas tank - he was out of gas. I had just enough to get me to Ozona so couldn't help.

Because I had seen Raphael at the rest area we waited for him. We talked a bit about the program while we waited. Raphael showed up and he had just enough gas to get him to the next stop too. We all looked at each other, puzzled, and then they started talking in Spanish and looking at the back of Raphael's truck. They wanted to load the bike into the truck. (Keep in mind here that the truck is a 1980's Toyota, and the bike is a big stretched cruiser.) I looked at the bike, and then the back of the truck and my senses told me that there was no earthly way for it to fit, so I offered to make the run to Ozona to get gas and come back. Raphael said, "You'd do that?"

I said, "Well, we all need to get to San Antonio, right?"

They both shrugged, and I rode off to the east leaving them there in the rain.

It turns out that Ozona was 28 miles down the road, so I made a hot pit stop to fill my tank and the empty water jug from Raphael's truck, and headed back to the west. This is the point where I started to be amazed by the way things work. Under most circumstances I would have been a little irritated by the delay, but instead all I could think about was the two of them out there waiting in the rain. As I approached them I didn't slow down. I had to go up the road an extra 8 miles to turn around. When I finally pulled up Oswaldo said to me, in his broken English, "I thought you weren't coming back." I explained the delay, and we all had a little laugh about it.

I parked the bike and Raphael filled me in on the conversation they had been having about simplicity and service. They had covered a lot of the topics that I had covered in my head. Amazing! I was delighted to know that they had been able to have a little meeting while I was gone. From there we planned to ride together and stop in Ozona for gas and food. (Oswaldo thought he owed me a cheeseburger. He didn't. And still doesn't.) But somewhere in the wet mess of cars and exits I lost them coming into Ozona.

I got gas again, tried to find them in the small town, ate some food, and got back on the road.

Meanwhile, I found out at the next rest area, they had looked for me and decided to eat at a restaurant four doors down from where I was! (Oswaldo had also run out of gas agin coming into town...) We had just missed each other. We talked a bit, and I got a phone number for Raphael so we could meet up later, and off we all went.

Then I made one last food stop and they rolled in shortly after me. We said hello again and they left. I finished my food, talked with a group of women from California who were also headed to San Antonio, then geared up and made the final run into town. The moment I came over the hill and saw lights of the city, I got excited. This was going to be great!

I didn't make it to a meeting today because I was spent by the time I got into town, but I was on the path with a bunch of other folks in the fellowship today, and I think that counts. (And no, Brian, I am not going to start the 60 over. Mandy would hurt me. Severely.)

To top it all off, I had a place to stay with Betsy and Whitey again, and got to have a terrific talk with them on the porch before going to bed. (Thanks again, guys. It means a lot!)

Today was an incredible day! I was surprised with myself the whole day, that I didn't once get irritated with how long it took to get here. I was just really grateful that I had the chance to do today just the way it happened.

P.S. I didn't take a single photo today except this one when I got to the hotel.

I never go to touch the cat. He just stood there staring at me and then ran the second I moved.

A Drowned Rat

I woke up this morning to rain on the tent at about 5:30. Somehow I managed to go back to sleep just long enough for the rain to subside, and it held off long enough for me to have coffee, enjoy a few more breaths of high altitude air, and pack up camp.

I stopped off at the Chamber of Commerce in Cloudcroft to use their Internet, and I encountered another thing that I miss a lot about living in New Mexico:

Sure, we have them in Seattle, but not nearly as many, and they seem more active here. Maybe it's just more nostalgia on my part.

I left Cloudcroft to the east, and almost immediately hit rain. It wasn't much, so I kept pushing through it. By the time I reached Artesia I was ready for a break and some coffee to warm me up. I pulled into the 76 station got some coffee and got on the phone to try and find a meeting in Pecos, TX. While I was on the phone it started to rain harder, and within 5 minutes the streets were rivers:

They were full from curb to curb with 1 - 3 feet of water. If you have never seen this in the desert then it is hard to believe, but it happens. You see, in a place that doesn't get rain very often the city planners don't spend much time on water drainage. So when it does rain really hard the streets fill up. I wasn't going anywhere for a while, so I made some other phone calls, chatted with the attendants, and watched the rain come down.

After about an hour I decided I would just get a room in Artesia for the night and call it a day, but as I was riding out to go find a hotel the 'tide' started to go out and I saw clear sky toward Carlsbad. I decided to go for it, and to my surprise it was clear and sunny the whole way. I had gotten pretty wet leaving Artesia and as I looked down Highway 295 toward Pecos all I saw was black, so Carlsbad was as far as I was going. Good thing too, because as soon as I got my bags into the room and the bike parked it started to pour again. I had made the right choice.

I looked up a meeting in Carlsbad and found the Carlsbad Group. The trouble was that I didn't want to get back on the bike and get all wet again, so I called the hot-line a few times to see bout a ride, but no answer. So I stayed in, ordered a pizza with pepperoni and green chile (because you can do that here), and sat back to rest up for tomorrow.

Right around 8 o'clock I got a phone call from Jerry, one of the guys I had talked to about a meeting in Pecos. He just wanted to check in and see what had happened to me during the rest of the day. I can't think of any other organization on the planet where people wolf do something like that. Amazing!

We chatted for a bit about the trip and it turns out that he knows someone with contacts on the east coast! And this came up right after Jerry had told me that things always happen the way they're supposed to!! How does this always happen?! I am starting to understand now that this trip is totally out of my control. Thanks for being a great teacher Jerry.

To end the day I got to see this:

One great thing about storms like today is that they make the sunsets incredible!

P.S. Check out Jerry's Blog!

Home again (sort of)

Well, I got a good night's sleep in one of the creepiest Motel 6's I have ever stayed in. Overall it was fine, all I really wanted was a bed and a shower, and that's what I got. Besides, you can't expect too much from 33 bucks a night, right?

When I was having my coffee I realized that it feels good to be back in New Mexico. Last night I had a green chile cheeseburger, and today I had green enchiladas. I am a happy man!

I decided to make it a short day today to make up for yesterday, and I wanted to spend the night in the mountains, so I set my sights for Cloudcroft, NM. I made a stop in Las Cruces to visit Bob, and had a wonderful time having lunch and catching up. He even reminded me of the time I got in trouble for saying the "s" word in the cafeteria in elementary school. Apparently he has fond memories of the way my dad reacted to the punishment; writing "I will not say the "s" word in the cafeteria" 50 times. Well, guess what Mr. Principal…Shit! Shit, Shit, Shit!! Ha!

Ok, now that I have that out, Bob and I went to lunch (the enchilada) and then he gave me a little driving tour of Old Mesilla, a little town tucked in next to Cruces that looks like old Mexico, but only because it was, before the white folks came along. It was nice to catch up with an old friend and see that he is still the gentleman I remember. Thanks, Bob.

Coming out of Las Cruces there was a fantastic view of the Organ Mountains:

I love to see the sharp rising mountains coming out of the desert. Classic New Mexico.

On the other side of the Organ Mountains I rode through White Sands Missile Range. All the side roads were guarded by men in fatigues carrying automatic weapons. It's good to be home…

While riding through the range, waiting to come across White Sands National Monument, it occurred to me that it is strange that we commemorate the place where the most deadly weapon on earth was first tested. Not only was it once native land to the tribes here in New Mexico as evidenced by the beautiful petroglyphs throughout the range (no one gets to see them though because of the guards.), but it was also home to a battle between the white man and the Indians. And then, to top it off, we test weapons there! What are we thinking?!

After the range I went through Alamogordo and up into the mountains. The road climbs 4000 feet in 18 miles but is surprisingly straight. It was nice to have a few turns though after spending days in the desert riding in straight lines. As I was coming up I saw a logging truck coming the other way. Now, I have seen a lot of logging trucks on this trip, but not in several days, and it was comforting to know that I was headed into the forest again, even if it's just for a night.

The meeting was the Cloudcroft Group, consisting of Charlotte and Mike. (They tell me there are more, but I am not convinced…) We read a story out of the back of the book and it was the perfect reading for me to hear. The story was so much like mine that it was eerie. I can't believe I've never read that story! Thanks, Cloudcroft Group.

After the meeting Mike led me out to a campground that was going to be perfect. As I was setting up camp I kept thinking about how nice it is to be in the New Mexico mountains. The high desert is a magical place and it makes me feel at home. It's cold up here (8000 ft) and threatening rain, but listening to the wind in the pines and aspens, the crickets chirping, and the occasional bat flying by makes me nostalgic for a camping trip I took with my mom. We went to Bandelier once for a night and I remember it being one of the best camping trips ever. We didn't do much of anything, just camped out for the night, but it was wonderful. A few years back my mom informed me that all she remembers was that she was drunk the whole night. I didn't care, it was still a great trip.

The last thing about the high desert that is unforgettable are the stars. Even through the patchy clouds the are incredible:

It it weren't for the threat of rain I would sleep out gazing at them all night. It's good to be where I am.

No Snow?

Perhaps using the word "adventure" in my post yesterday was ill advised. I should be careful what I ask for…

It went something like this: I was planning to get to Las Cruces, NM today to see an old family friend for dinner, but riding I-10 the whole way wasn't interesting to me. So I looked at the map and I found a road headed out of Tucson up and over the mountains to the east. On the map it looked like the classic twisty mountain road, and a perfect alternative to the Interstate.

So I set out to ride a fine mountain road and get to Cruces by mid-afternoon. As I got out of town the country got prettier. Hundreds of Saguaros lined the hills and the road started to get a little twisty. It was beautiful, and I was feeling good. Then I saw the "winding road for 3 miles" sign and got excited. I went down in a little gully and saw some road construction folks. They motioned for me to go slow. I nodded and then pressed on thinking, "Oh, they're doing road work, that might slow things a bit, but that's ok. I have time." I got about a mile up the road and made a shocking discovery; they weren't doing road work, they were BUILDING THE ROAD!!

Now, under most circumstances I would have just turned around and gone back, but for some reason I didn't. (I've been trying to think of the reason all day, and I got nothin'.)

So there I am riding my RT on a road meant for a GS, thinking, "Dennis would be proud." The road continued to climb and I followed it. Then I looked at the temp gauge and realized I needed to stop before I boiled the oil out of the bike. I reached a little crest and stopped for a rest.

When I got off the bike I looked back at the view:

Then I heard gunshots…and more gunshots. Then I heard a rattlesnake. Then I saw the vultures circling above me. I screamed like a little girl, got on the bike, turned around, and went back to the pavement.

While descending the small mountain I had inadvertently climbed I made the decision that my next bike will be a GS so that won't have to turn around.

I got back to town, set the GPS for Las Cruces, got on I-10 and went smoothly down the road. I was still on track to arrive in late afternoon so I was all set.

After about an hour and a half I started to smell rain. Little whiffs here and there of desert rain. It smells different here, it's sweet and clean. Then I started to see the storm on the horizon. It didn't look too bad, and it looked like I was going to bypass it just fine.

As I approached Bowie, AZ the wind started to pick up. It got to the point of being difficult to hold the bike on the road just in time for me to stop in Bowie and wait it out. Once I stopped I could tell that it was blowing at least 40mph and gutting up in the 60's. The dust was blowing around like crazy, and the occasional raindrops were falling horizontally. Not good. And it looked like this:

As I waited I got a cup of coffee and wandered in impatient circles. By some stroke of "luck" I ran into Mike and Jenny, a couple traveling form Washington also. And going to San Antonio for the same reason I am! It was nice to see some smiling faces amidst the storm.

When the weather cleared a bit I decided to go at it again. About forty minutes later I realized I was chasing the storm. The wind kicked up again, this time stronger than before. There were massive dust storms hiding the highway ahead of me, and lightning was striking all around me. I pressed on, hiding from the wind beside trucks when possible.

Then it happened…the cloud I was chasing opened and dumped buckets of rain and hail. I was drenched in thirty seconds. I was lucky to be passing truck stop and pulled in for cover. It continued to dump and I made the decision that I would stop in Deming, NM for the night.

The folks at the truck stop were all very friendly, and a guy named Wayne was nice enough to tell me that the frontage road would take me the remaining 15 miles into Deming, and that from the looks of things it would be mostly dry if I left then.

Having given up on Las Cruces, I looked up a meeting in Deming. I got into town and made it to the Duster Group with time to spare. I had made it to a meeting...and it was in Spanish. I thought about leaving, but knew that it was good for me to be there.

I understood about every 20th word, and couldn't follow much of anything so I closed my eyes and then felt like I was home. The feeling of being in the room was just the same as if I could understand every word. They asked me to share, and someone translated for me. I shared that it is great that our family crosses all barriers without trouble. It was really wonderful to see them all smiling as I talked. It brings tears to my eyes to think about it. What a magical thing we have!!

All told it was a long day for 259 miles, but I made a meeting, and I got what I asked for…oops.

Rest up…

When I was going to sleep my first night here in Tucson I was a little down. I was exhausted from the long day in the heat, and was starting to think that there was no way I would be able to carry this through for another 52 days. It seemed like it was going to be an awful trip, and that I was never going to make it. Luckily, when I woke up the next morning I felt rested, and much more like myself. I had hit a wall the day before, and I just needed sleep. I wasn't quite ready to get back on the bike and ride for a long way, but I was feeling more like finishing the trip was feasible.

Most of the first day was spent sitting around and relaxing with Alison in her apartment. It was nice and pleasant provided that we were sitting still, but the second we got up to do anything it was too hot.

Eventually we got up the nerve to leave the house, and I thought I might incinerate the second I touched the sunlight…good lord is it hot here! We ventured out to the Apple Store to see about the iPhone I had pre-ordered. It turns out that if you aren't there the day of the launch to pick it up then they sell it! Damn! No new iPhone for me yet, but I am working out the details of a plan to have one shipped to me later in the trip…

After that we went out to lunch with Mark, Amy, and Eva. I have to say that Eva is one of the most well behaved babies I have ever met. She sat quietly while we ate and talked, and then spent some time rocking back in forth in Alison's lap playing with her monkey toy. Adorable.

The meeting that day was down at the Little House. A nice group of folks thoroughly dedicated to the program as it is written. We talked about sponsorship, and the conclusion among most of us was that they are needed for working the steps through, but that the fellowship as a whole takes over after that and things can be worked out that way. No one person can't have all the answers, that's why there are all of us!

After the meeting I had a chat with Bill about the way that things always seem to work out the way they are supposed to. That we are always in the right place whether we think so or not.

My second day here in Tucson I woke up and knew that the rest of the trip was going to be just fine. It was great to have a couple of days to relax, but it is getting to be time to move on, and I can feel that. Alison goes back to work at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow, and I have a date with an old friend in Las Cruces.

Betsy and Whitey had us up to their condo again this afternoon for some more laughter and fun. It was damn hot out there by the pool, but it was nice to see them again before we all head to San Antonio.

The meeting was the Sober Living Group and the Pima Alano Club. Several topics were discussed, but the gist of it was the obsession and the spiritual cure for it. The meeting was big, but still had a small intimate feel too it.

I had a brief talk with Mike afterward about anger and fear. We had a nice time talking about the nature of our malady, and the idea that other people usually see the change in us before we do. He shared with me that other people tell him that he is doing great, but that to him he still feels like the same person. I related, and told him that at some point we begin to feel it, and that is when the magic happens.

I also got the chance to meet Alison's work friends. They were all very nice people, and knew far more about me than I thought they would. (Thanks, Alison) It was nice, though, to see the people who surround Alison in her "natural habitat." Thanks for taking care of her, guys. (That includes you too, Mark and Amy.)

So that was my resting time in Tucson, and tomorrow the adventure continues…

P.S. Although I didn't get a new iPhone here, I did get a new custom motorcycle accessory courtesy of Alison. So here's what happened. Alison saw my wrists:

This is a result of a gap between my jacket and my gloves. (I'm sure Death Valley had something to do with this...)

Alison is a knitter, and immediately found some yarn. The result was custom sweater cuff to fill the gap.

 

Now, saw whatever you want about me wearing knitted cuffs to ride a motorcycle, but I have Paddington and Pooh Bear in the back seat, and the cuffs were made with love, so there... Thanks, Alison!

Nothing

 When I got out of bed in Las Vegas I was on a mission. I wanted to get out the town with billboards for dentists (Yeah, really) and get to Tucson today. Looking at the maps and such I figured I could get there for an 8 o'clock meeting if I was moving most of the day. Mike had told me the night before to avoid the Hoover Dam because of construction and the idea of sitting still on the bike for an extra hour in 100 degree heat was not at all appealing, So I went south on US 95 through Laughlin and back up to the Interstate to get back on 93 south. It added about an hour to the day, but at least I was moving.

The day was long, hot, and windy, and I started to wonder what had possessed the white man to settle in the desert here. I can't imagine hiking through hundreds of miles of desert, looking out at the horizon seeing the constant heat waves, ("Look Johnny, the whole earth is on fire.") with no water nearby, and the wind blowing sand in your face and thinking: "We should stay here. Sure, we cant grow anything to eat, and there's hardly anything to kill and eat, and I feel like I might die at any moment, but I think this place is perfect." Seriously!? And then we went to great lengths to kick the native people out! At least they have generations of experience living out here, and know all the tricks. What the hell is wrong with us?!

I saw Nothing today. Really. There is an abandoned truck stop and wind in Nothing, AZ and that's all.

The day grew hotter and I had to stop more often for rest and water, and all I wanted was to get to Tucson. I had about an hour left to ride and I stopped in Florence to go to the bathroom and got a message from my friend Betsy. She was at a meeting already, but willing to leave it to ride out with Whitey and meet me on highway 79 to bring me home. I got back on the bike with something new to look forward to, family to lead me in…

About halfway down 79 I saw the sunset on my mirror and stopped for a photo:

Then I turned around to leave and there was the moon:

Then I got to ride on facing the moon and it started to cool off, it was the perfect last stretch of road to end the long day.

Betsy and Whitey were waiting at a turnout, and I was spent. I was ready to get anywhere, and told them so. They led me in to their condo for amazing food and healthy laughter, two things I desperately needed. Alison drove out too, and joined us for a nice relaxed evening. It was the first day I had missed a meeting, but it wasn't for lack of trying. And besides, I hung out with some other sober people, and that's what counts. I was reminded that this is the most wonderful family in the world. What a treat to have people who will drop everything and come lead you home! Thanks, Betsy and Whitey, It's just what I needed, and by some magic I may never understand, you knew that! Awesome!

Turned at the Wrong Pine

I forgot to take the odometer photo, so imagine something around 2585 miles.

I woke up in the campground in Mammoth Lakes, CA and I was cold. I should have savored this more, because it was the last time I would feel that for quite some time. From Mammoth I headed back out to US 395 and pointed the bike south. There were some mildly interesting moments of the ride down 395, like the point where there are large granite boulders on one side of the road and tuff cliffs on the other. It was fascinating to see two very different geological formations meet with a highway in between. It was almost like the highway department staged it that way.

I was leaving the mountains, and thought I had better get one last good look, so I stopped to look back where I had come from:

After the stop I headed down into the valley, and it got hotter, and hotter, and hotter. In retrospect I should have turned off and Big Pine and gone over Westgard Pass, but I wanted to see Death Valley. (Don't ask me why I thought that was a good idea, but I did.) So instead, I took a left at Lone Pine and went into the heat. Now, don't get me wrong, Death Valley was sort of neat to look at:

But it even looks hot. And it was:

I saw the first few foreigners I had seen on the trip. There was a German couple, whom I thanked for the bike, though I am not sure they understood me, and a family from Sweden, had I not asked where they were from I would have assumed they were East Coasters because their English was so clear. Why these people decided to take their vacations in Death Valley is beyond me. (I should have asked...) I mean, even the people who work there are bribed. The gas station attendant, who was quite chatty, told me that he gets free rent on a small studio apartment, three meals a day, AND nine dollars an hour! That's still far from enough for me to live in that hell, but he seemed marginally happy with it, although he did mention that he is planning to move to Hawaii in the near future. Good choice, my friend.

The whole ride through there was just ridiculous. I mean, there was one point where the temp "dropped" to around 105 and it felt cool!! It was certainly an experience that I will never forget nor repeat. I am glad I did it, but I have no idea why.

I finished the day in Las Vegas. My plans to avoid most large cities were thwarted by the fact that Vegas was the only thing nearby that seemed a reasonable stop to make. Luckily my stepmom was able to secure me a night in a hotel with A/C, so I could actually sleep through the night. (Thanks, Becky!)

I went up to a meeting at the Spring Valley Club, but there wasn't anyone there, except for (quite possibly) the only other sober young person visiting from Seattle, Katy. So we made our own meeting because it only takes two of us. We talked a lot about faith and how to acquire it, and a lot of other things too. It was a very nice meeting. (Often the two person meetings are the best.) We both agreed that it was nice to see another sober Seattlite and talk to someone who knows where we come from, geographically that is. Thanks, Katy.