Day 13 April 6, 2006

Day 13
April 6, 2006
Palo Duro Canyon State Park, TX to Plano, TX

Peering out of his tent, Erik was greeted by a turkey only inches away. The overnight drizzles hadn’t left much moisture behind; they’d only woken us long enough to require adding rainflys overhead to keep us dry for the reminder of our blissful outdoor sleep. We were surprised by a white-tailed deer coming up close and personal looking for breakfast.





No time for breakfast for us humans, so after packing up our tents for the last time we climbed out of the canyon and into the gusting winds of Northern Texas towards the Thursday night Meet –N- Greet in Plano. We figured that since we were this far north and had a few days before we needed to be home, we would head over and put the word out that we’d be making an appearance. We also made it known that we didn’t yet have a place to stay in the area, and would accept any reasonable offer.

The local radio station had said that the winds would be gusting upwards of 50 mph. As we were pushed all over the roadway, we were certain they’d underestimated Mother Nature. At times, we were nearly at peg-scraping angles while riding in a straight line. By the first gas stop, Deb was on edge and declared this as the worst wind she’d ever ridden in. Erik said that according to the map, we had only another six miles of side winds before our course would turn toward the east and it would be at our backs. We hoped for the sake of our weary bodies that Erik was right.

We rode through sections of dry, dusty farmland that had obviously been subjected to recent draught. With the wind gusting as it was, the dust became airborne and blew across the horizon. It created thick clouds that brought visibility down from miles to mere feet, making it difficult to navigate roads and traffic. Breathing without inhaling all of the grit and grime was easier said than done, and even keeping our eyes open through the thick sections became a chore.



We opted to stop for lunch in Childress to escape the brutal conditions. We found Dawson’s Family Restaurant with an adequate buffet at a reasonable price.



The locals were surprised to see us on the road on a day like today, and were enthusiastic about our trip. One of them pointed outside and said, “that blue bike there looks like it’s about to blow over”. Sure enough, Deb’s bike was not as stable as we’d like so Erik moved it around to the side of the parking lot where the building could offer some resistance from the wind. Once settled and fed, we made a feeble attempt at an internet connection to see if we’d gotten any offer for overnight accommodations. We were only able to check phone messages, and Gary “tracker” Leavelle had made us an offer we couldn’t refuse to stay with him only five minutes from the coffee shop.

We cut off towards Plano farther north than originally planned in an attempt to thwart rush hour traffic, but instead found ourselves inching our way through smaller towns. Once we were clear and within twenty minutes of Plano, we stopped to call Gary for his address and to let him know we were almost there.

Arriving in front of his house, we were all glad that we’d finally made it. This turned out to be the second highest mileage day on the trip, topped only by the first day we headed out of Texas. We had a few minutes to hop off the bike to meet Lisa, Gary’s wife and co-sponsor of Four Bikers and a Monkey and to stretch before heading over to Shoemaker & Hardt, the coffee shop where the north Dallas crowd meets.



Only a few people were there when we arrived, but overall there were more than twenty or twenty five bikes in attendance by night’s end. We could barely keep up with names, but it was good to finally put faces with handles we’d jested with on the web. Stories were told, pictures were taken, and an attempt at a kidnapped monkey was blocked.



Spank was able to meet Scott “tourmeister” Friday’s old GS, too. The new owner, David, has been quite happy with the bike since he picked it up. When introducing himself, he adds in “more commonly known as the new owner of Scott’s bike”, but that should begin to fade over time as he makes a name for himself on Two Wheeled Texans.



After realizing the coffee shop had closed and people were starting to leave, we decided to head down the street to grab a bite to eat at McDonalds. We’d stayed away from fast food as often as possible, but it was the only thing open and we hadn’t eaten since lunch.



We got cozy in Gary’s daughter’s room (she’s away at A&M – Go Aggies!) and were asleep in short order. Tomorrow would be our last day on the road, and only 270 miles separated us from home.