Four Bikers and a Monkey

Saying Goodbye...

2006-08-04T20:03:00.000-07:00

Thank you all for following our journey. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Spank will be visiting with each of us on occasion, I'm sure, and if you'd like to follow any of our individual blogs (for those of us that have one or will start one) you can do so by clicking on each of our names on the right.

Thanks for your continued support!

To make it easier to read our adventure in sequence, please use the following links:

Counting Down
5 Days To Go

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14

After the Trip – Bike and Gear Performance

What I Learned…

What I Learned

2006-04-14T17:13:00.000-07:00

I learned that…

…if you can’t tie a knot, tie a lot.

…when you’re hungry, even raw pancake batter can be yummy.

…when looking at a dark campsite with your headlamp, all those reflective bits from bikes and gear look really spooky. Especially if you have a red light option on your headlamp.

…the one night out of 13 that you don’t put the rain fly on, it will rain on you in your sleep.

…mosquitoes will only bite the one person in a group that has bothered to put on bug spray.

…margarine packets from a restaurant don’t need to be refrigerated, but they do need to be packed AWAY from any and all electrical components.

…people will look at you funny when you’re an adult carrying a stuffed monkey around.

…kids love to sit on motorcycles if they’re parents say it’s ok.

…a trip to Wal-Mart with four people will take at least an hour and a half, no matter how little time you can afford to spend there.

…adding flavored non-dairy creamer powder to hot cocoa is yummy, but it’s not as yummy when the container opens and gets on everything else and makes even dinner taste like French vanilla.

…it takes four people to wash and dry two bowls and four cups without them getting dirty again.

…we all look funny with three inches of denim sticking out the bottom of our riding pants.

…a few extra packets of crackers from the table at the restaurant will become breakfast the next morning when you just add some military-issue cheese.

…ramen noodles are good, but beef stroganoff is better.

…you can make an apple/oatmeal upside-down cake out of very few ingredients and resources when your sweet tooth just won’t quit.

…some people just don’t like oatmeal no matter what you do to it.

…ascending 4000 feet in elevation in less than an hour can cause the temperature to drop and the scenery to overload your senses.

…the locals are the best resource for finding places to eat.

…Arizona state parks suck and New Mexico state parks kick butt!

…if you forget to bring your military ID card, an ordained minister card will still get the 10% discount at most hotels and motels.

…you should never forget your military ID card when on a trip.

…even if you come back with only what you left with, it won’t be packed nearly as efficiently on the bike as when you started.

…if your eyes are glued to the GPS screen looking for someplace to eat/stay/refuel, you’ll pass all the restaurants/motels/gas stations that aren’t listed with Garmin.

…if the sun is setting, it’s getting cold, you’re tired and want a place to sleep, you won’t be able to find a campsite or cheap motel room for at least thirty more miles.

…if the washboard gravel road you’re on looks like it gets better in the distance, it doesn’t. That’s a mirage. Whatever you do, don’t wave the rest of your street bike-riding friends down there into the trap with you.

…hand signals only work when everyone knows what the signal means.

…custom-molded earplugs should be made with reflective material. Second best is bright fluorescent orange, so that when one falls off your bike while riding through three miles of park entrance roads, you can go back and find it again in the dark.

…a Wolf will beat a rabbit every time.

…condensation happens even in the driest of deserts.

…when three people with filthy minds come across a perverted scene created by nature, the fourth tries to pretend she doesn’t see it.

…nobody can get the dam park fee out of the dam deposit box other than the dam park ranger who isn’t coming back until the next day.

…nobody will let four tired bikers camp on the lawn behind their RV park office.

…taking a trip with three friends for fourteen days can either make you better friends or bitter enemies. I’ll let you know what the outcome for this trip was after I decide…

Ok, bike and gear performance...

2006-04-11T18:27:00.000-07:00

- 3160 miles added to the VStrom. Some bikes had more, some had less. 2-up was usually the Strom and the Yellow VFR.

- The VStrom took a dive (while parked) at Bottomless Lakes outside Roswell, but it fell on soft dirt and there was absolutely no damage. Whew!

- The VStrom was used to charge the laptop at the same park that it tipped over in (that's why it was on soft ground to begin with - next to the picnic table) and it wouldn't start. Luckily, we had homemade MC jumper cables with us. When we rolled the yellow VFR beside it to hook them up, the Strom miraculously started on its own. Go figure.

- The right rear tail light on the SVS stopped working at Bottomless Lakes, but the bulb wasn't blown. They guys scraped the contacts on both the bulb and the receptacle, and it was working again.

- The Yellow VFR blew a fuse when Erik tried to scare some goats. He had installed the new LOUDER air horn only a week prior to the trip, and there wasn't time for a relay (or whatever it's called). He blew the fuse again (sacrificed it, really) during Dallas rush hour traffic when someone tried to run over Deb.

- The Yellow VFR had thermostat issues. In cold weather, it had very poor fuel consumption because it was stuck open. On warmer days, it was fine. The red VFR had the same issues before the trip, so Gavin had already replaced his.

- Throttle locks are either friend or foe. Mine worked fine, Gavin's was touch-and-go, Deb stopped using her o-ring at one point because it was getting stuck, and Erik lost his somewhere on the road after he rolled it out of position. Gavin and Erik are both looking at actual cruise control before the next big trip.

- Givi cases are not perfect. My key snapped, but I had a spare. Had I not packed it, I would still be able to open and close the cases with the stub and a pair of pliers, but it wouldn't have been fun. One of my cases stopped closing securely around Plano, but I've had that problem before and I have bungees cris-crossed on them for a reason.

- Erik's tank bag (came with the bike when he bought it) has a poorly-designed map pocket and anything placed in it will eventually blow away. This includes his mega-comfortable bacalava.

- Rubber tie straps that you cut to length and add snap clips to are the coolest invention ever! They are completely customized to avoid lots of flapping extra length, and they hold up great.

- Waterproof compression sack with built-in pirge valve was good, but the closure system on the one we had was tough. It basically required two people to close it properly, one to hold the stuff in the bag down away from the seal and the other to roll it and clip it.

- Adjustable bungee nets are priceless. We had three on the trip, one of which has seen better days (it was like that before we left) but they are great for getting 'just one more thing' onto the bike without having to fit it into an already-stuffed bag.

- We packed too much clothing. Granted, we only did laundry once and most of us ran out of clean clothes, but we could have easily done with losing a third to half of what we thought we'd need. Part of the problem was drastic changes in weather (had to prepare for Texas heat and mountain cold) but we didn't really care about wearing the same stuff over like I thought we would.

- Too many shoes. Knowing that hiking or lots of walking was going to be included, we all added a pair of shoes/sneakers in addition to our riding boots. We used them and our feet were happy for it, but we probably would do without them next time. River shoes (only Deb and I brought them) are a good thing to have, and they pack pretty small. If you ziploc them, you can just stuff them in with all your clothes and they take up less space than a pair of jeans.

- Stove: MSR Whisperlite International. Worked like a charm. The first few times we used it, we were just getting used to it. After a few days, we were pros. Worked well on the Coleman camp fuel that we started with, and just as well (but with a funny smell and a little more soot) with unleaded gas when we refilled it.

- Cookware: GSI Hard Anodized Aluminum with Teflon Coating. 5-piece set (small pot with lid/frypan and large pot with lid/frypan and a handle for all. We used just about all the pieces, and even set up a double-boiler of sorts to attempt to 'bake' in the small pot. It kinda worked. We also used a small grill that was supposed to be used to grill some steaks over open flame (dag nabbit, fire ban the whole time) to elevate the pan off the stove flame to make pancakes without burning them. Worked like a charm.

- Bisquick shake & pour (just add water) pancakes are amazingly easy. The WalMart brand stinks. Spend the extra $ .50 and you’ll see why.

- Tents: North Face Merlin 33 (both of them). Very nice tents. Easy to set up and take down once we got used to them, rain flys kept everything cozy (when they were on) and adequate vestibule space for stuff. Riding gear was stowed inside. A small hole was discovered on Erik's, but it's fairly small and easily patchable. The tent stakes STINK! You'd think that a tent that retails for $329 would have half-decent stakes. They bent no matter what the ground was made of. Both Gavin and Erik are going to buy some titanium stakes before the tents are used again. Stake mallet/puller was added at our first WalMart trip, and was cheap. The puller fell out of the handle the first time it was used, but we glued it back in with epoxy and it's fine now. I carried it on the outside of my right saddlebag, and it was joked about that I could pull it out of the bungee and fling it at a driver if necessary, and nobody would feel bad about the $1.97 we spent on it.

- Sleep Pad: REI 2.5 – I loved it. Packed easily, self-inflating, you can add air if you need, and it made sleeping on the ground very comfy. I also took air out and put the pad in the hammock for a nap in AZ.

- North Face 40 Degree Sleeping Bag. I was cold some nights, but I also didn’t dress properly going to bed on those nights and it got below 40 on a few. The bag will work well for 3-season camping here in Texas, but mountains are not what it’s made for.

- Genmar up & back riders – worked like a charm to put my arms and shoulders in a very comfortable position for high mileage days.

Day 14 April 7, 2006

2006-04-09T18:43:00.000-07:00

Day 14
April 7, 2006
Plano, TX to Houston & Katy, TX

Morning came all too quickly, but the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and an egg casserole made it easier to get-up-and-go.

Gary and Lisa had been amazing hosts for the night, and paused for a picture during their morning routines. Thanks again guys!

The bikes had been parked on the back patio overnight, so getting them out into the driveway and loaded became our first chore on this, our last day on the road.

The lack of excitement was evident, but we made the most of the day and tried to avoid highways and boring, straight roads. We headed farther east before heading south to Houston, and were soon surrounded by lush greenery. The closer to home we got, the more we could feel the humidity of the gulf coast kick into action.

We’d complained about dry, chapped skin during the trip because moisture in the air is a constant for us at home. We’d missed the humidity’s ability to keep our skin and hair nourished. Now that we were getting closer, it felt almost unnatural to have it all around us again.

We ended up in Grapeland for lunch, and Erik was excited to announce that one of the most famous Texans was born near here in Crockett. Davey Crokett? Daniel Boone? Some other founder of Texas? Not quite. It was Erik himself whose family had lived around here when he was born and he was two when they moved. His granny had even designed the painting on the water tower.

The City Street Café had great food, as did most (if not all) of the mom and pop shops we’d frequented these last two weeks.

Erik was shocked to find that he was the proud bearer of the golden fork. Nothing special came of it, but it sparked talk of Willy Wonka.

We opted for a run through the Sam Houston National Forrest on our way down into Houston. It was a beautifully sunny and warm day, and none of us wanted it to end. Actually, we didn’t want the trip to end. As good as it would feel to sleep in our own beds, the return to our jobs and lives was not something we were necessarily looking forward to.

Splitting off in Tomball, Erik and Deb waved goodbye and headed for Katy. Gavin and Rebecca continued down 149 to northwest Houston, arriving at Gavin’s house in short order. Tired wrists and aching backs beckoned for a nap, but Gavin was intent on getting out of his gear and into his truck to pick up his Beagle Winston.

Back home with his dog by his side, Gavin parked the bikes in the garage and quickly unloaded them, piling the gear, supplies, and luggage into the living room. A mess to be cleaned up later… now it was time for a long overdue nap in a comfortable bed, air conditioning, and soft sheets.

Day 13 April 6, 2006

2006-04-08T14:45:00.000-07:00

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.

Day 12 April 5, 2006

2006-04-06T23:10:00.000-07:00

Day 12
April 5, 2006
Santa Rosa, NM to Palo Duro Canyon State Park, TX

Once again we got a late start, and while packing the bikes Rebecca’s luggage key snapped. The plastic that holds the metal key (like a handle) simply couldn’t bear the load any longer.

After getting the Leatherman (a very cool multi-tool) out to get the key out of the lock, Rebecca found the spare that she’d brought along. It was intended as a backup in the event the original was misplaced, but this was just as good a reason to remember things like spare keys when you pack for a big trip. To compound the fact that we were running behind getting the bikes loaded, the clip holding the tail bag onto Erik’s bike snapped in two. The situation was easily remedied with a custom-cut (to length) rubber strap with a new clip.

We rode a few miles into town for some breakfast before re-entering Texas, and settled on this place, the Sun Restaurant.

The eggs were quite delicious, and other than the cigarette smoke wafting towards us from a nearby booth it was a decent place to eat.

There was no need to stop and take a picture at the Texas state line. We’ve all seen it. It’s strange how the landscape begins to change as you enter this section of the country; the grass and rolling plains replace the jagged mountain cliffs that graced us with scenic views just a few days prior. It was a stark reminder that this trip – this adventure – would soon be coming to a close. We still had a few days left, but the finish line was in sight.

Hitting Amarillo for a fuel stop, we decided that a stop at the Cadillac Ranch was in order. Although somewhat local for us Texans, it was still far enough away from home that we wanted to get some pictures while we were up here.

Nearing Palo Duro Canyon State Park outside of Amarillo, it was clear why this was called the “Grand Canyon” of Texas. We’d missed out on the real thing in northern Arizona due to poor weather (low of 20 overnight, high of 35 with snow showers likely), but this was a good consolation prize.

The Texas State Parks and Wildlife system is very accommodating, and the park ranger had first hand knowledge of which campsites down in the canyon were most suitable for us. We were able to camp underneath a 60 foot wall of rock, and we were told the nearby trees would help shield some of the wind that was expected overnight and into the next day.

The wildlife in the park is outstanding. There were turkeys and deer wandering around the campsites, and it was obvious that they’d become accustomed to the humans being around. They barely flinched when we rode by.

Once settled, we headed back out of the park (doubled up again) for dinner. This afforded a few more moving pictures.

Just a few short miles outside the park gates (this time we made a mental note that the gates close at 10), we found Bambino’s Pizza. It didn’t look like much, but we were hungry and willing to give it a try. As we opened the door, the two tables and young boy doing his homework had us second-guessing our decision.

Yet again, we were pleasantly surprised at the quality of food offered up at a seemingly unknown hole in the wall. The selection was limited to only pizza, calzones, and gyros but all three were absolutely delicious.

The roads back into the park were quite a bit different without any daylight, and the deer standing on the edge of the pavement within arms’ reach made for a few pucker moments. We managed to get back to the campsite without any near-misses (with the deer or each other) and settled in for more headlamp dominoes. Before too long, it was nearing midnight and we called the game on account of sleepiness. Rebecca believes that it was because she was so far out in the lead that nobody thought they could catch her, but a three to one vote had the dominoes being packed away.

The warm night (another sign we were back in Texas) and light breeze had fooled us into thinking we’d be better off without the rainflys on the tents. As a light drizzle came down, we all awoke and had to scurry to get them securely fastened. I guess that’s one more thing we’ve learned – expect the unexpected.

Day 11 April 4, 2006

2006-04-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

Day 11
April 4, 2006
Santa Rosa, NM

Once again we awoke to a morning that was discernibly colder than it had been when we had submerged ourselves in sleeping bags the night before. Today was set to be another break from riding, so we had time for breakfast and a day trip. Pancakes again, but we were running low on syrup and supplemented it with jelly packets scrounged from Jerry’s a few days ago.

While we got dressed for the local day trip, Spank ran off to the playground to monkey around. He told us that this was his favorite park yet because of the great climbing web and rock wall that he had found.

We decided to join him and have a little fun in the sun ourselves.

We hit the road in search of a few local geocaches, and found three without too much trouble. They weren’t inside the park as we had originally thought, but were not far into town.

Unfortunately, we didn’t leave much room for Spank so he stowed away under the bungee net…

There was talk of heading for Las Vegas for lunch (Las Vegas, New Mexico, that is), but we decided that our stomachs could not endure the hour-long ride and instead opted for Joseph’s, a local eatery on historic Route 66.

Once inside, we were greeted and showed to our table, then we were each given a newspaper. Well, it only looked like a newspaper – it was actually the menu. Clever idea.

Scattered inside the paper along with the edible offerings were pictures, commentary, and a story or two about the original owners of the restaurant. The choices were borderline overwhelming, and the meals themselves were plentiful. Gavin ordered a Mexican burger, which is a hamburger with Mexican-style fixins wrapped in a tortilla instead of nestled on a bun.

Chips and salsa were served prior to the meal, but as an added bonus we each got a soppapilla with out meal. Bountiful honey poured over them, they were devoured quickly.

We stopped by the Visitor’s Center to see what else there was to do in town, but to our demise it was closed (despite the OPEN sign displayed in the window). We peered through the window at the rack of brochures to get an idea of what our options were.

We could see that there was a Route 66 Auto Museum just down the street, so we decided that might be a nice way to spend the afternoon. There was a $5 entry fee to see an assortment of cars and memorabilia, but there was adequate seating in the lobby/gift shop for those who didn’t really have a strong desire to walk through the displays.

Spank had fun checking out all the mini cars.

And even found a sticker with his name on it!

A few of Gavin’s photos from inside the ‘museum’:

After the auto museum, we returned to our campsite and decided that a friendly game of dominoes was in order. Well, it started out as a friendly game.

It somehow morphed into a three hour domino bonanza, with singles, doubles, and one-on-one challenges before calling it quits for the night.

Day 10 April 3, 2006

2006-04-05T10:40:00.000-07:00

Day 10
April 3, 2006
Lordsburg, NM to Santa Rosa, NM

Without the sun peering through the tents to wake us up, we slept in the motel room until someone finally stirred and asked “what time is it?” There had been much confusion over time zones, and it was only compounded by the clocks jumping ahead for Daylight Savings one of these last few nights. Thing is, Arizona doesn’t believe in Daylight Savings, so we jumped an hour just crossing the state line back into New Mexico. We’ve learned that our phones are the most accurate resource, since they get the time directly from the towers that know where we are better than we do.

A quick shower or two, then we loaded up the bikes lickety-split. We’re continuing to pack the bikes more efficiently as the trip progresses, and it has helped save time in the morning. Breakfast was scrounged from what we had with us to save on time (a muffin, some pop tarts, and assorted beverages) and we were on the road heading east again.

As we hit yet another scenic byway, it was clear that things were about to get twisty. Gavin pulled over to make sure everyone would be Ok with the route and got three thumbs up. He double-checked with Rebecca to make sure she was doing Ok with the tight turns, and she said that she’d be slow, but that she could do it.

Well, slow she was. Deb was patient and stayed in the back so that Rebecca would not feel alone, but gave her enough space to keep from feeling crowded when she slowed for the turns. Gavin and Erik were up ahead, having lots of fun evening out the wear on the sides of their tires. They stopped every few miles to make sure the girls were still on the road and making progress, then continued on their way once they saw the familiar Suzuki headlights closing in.

Atop a pass, there was a pullout and the guys figured it was as good a place as any to stop for a break and make sure everyone was still Ok.

Extra attention was being paid to Rebecca’s agreement to ride through here, since she had not done as well the day before. She agreed that it was a nail biter, but that the trees helped block the view and masked the height of the cliffs they were on. She was taking it extra slow (so slow, in fact, that she had to pull over to let a station wagon by) but was trying to keep her focus on the road and not her fear of it. Deep breathing, a mellow music mix on the MP3 player, and the knowledge that Deb was behind her all attributed to her ability to redeem herself from the embarrassing experience just 24 hours earlier. Somehow, confidence was starting to set in.

Noticing the road showing even tighter turns to come on the GPS screen, Gavin recommended a cut-off for the girls to take to get off the mountain. On the map, it showed a left turn just ahead that would meet back up with the guys four miles later. Unfortunately, the turn-off was not there. The guys waited for the girls to catch up to let them know what was ahead, and that we’d meet back up at the bottom.

Once down the mountain safe and sound, we eventually ended up in Williamsburg, NM for fuel and lunch. We found Café Rio, with a pleasant waitress and books at the table if you felt like getting some reading in with your meal.

We had a chance to work on the story some more, but Spank was itching to get back on the road and out of this one-horse town.

We were heading east while the sun was setting in the west. The GPS had us in a dead heat with the sunset, but we were determined to make it to the campsite in Santa Rosa before darkness fell across the land. As the shadows grew longer, our throttles gained momentum.

We were close, but failed to achieve tent pitching without the need for headlamps.

Once the campsite was made cozy for the evening, Deb and Erik settled in for a few heated games of Scrabble. Gavin and Rebecca called it a night and let sleep take over.

Day 9 April 2, 2006

2006-04-05T09:48:00.000-07:00

Day 9
April 2, 2006
Roper Lake State Park, AZ to Lordsburg, NM (via Clifton, AZ)

…we awoke to a leisurely-paced Sunday morning, knowing that we could spend extra time getting packed since we were scheduled to ride up the Coronado Trail and camp in Alpine. “Chilly” Bob had suggested the route before he packed up his RV and headed out.

Most of the RVs rolled out also, and by noon the campsite was quite calm. We had time to sit and relax, get the story updated to the web for the last few days, and decide that today would be the ‘turning point’ on the trip. We’d gone about as far west as we could with the limited vacation time allotted, but we didn’t want to head back the same way we’d come. Instead, we’d head up north and then hook around to the east.

We hit the road by 2pm, just in time to make check-out. North on 191 towards Clifton, the wide open sweepers were amazing. A quick fill-up at the Circle K in town, and we were on our way.

Or so we thought.

Clifton is a mining town. The copper mine stretches for miles, and the only way over the mountain is to wind your way up through a labyrinth of hairpin turns with steep inclines. Trucks over 40 feet long were not permitted due to the tight radius on some of the turns.

And here’s where even well laid plans sometimes fail. Rebecca is afraid of heights. Add to that her fear of hairpin turns, and disaster struck hard. She panicked. Fear overtook her, and she simply could not continue to climb the mountain. She stopped on the side of the road as early as she could and waited to be rescued. For a few minutes, she waited and watched as other riders whizzed past on sport, adventure, and touring bikes. She tried to relax and take in the beauty of the mountain around her, but it was only enough for her to rationalize going back down into town and figuring out a different route.

Eventually, Gavin and Erik came back, asking if she was Ok with the standard thumbs-up. She vigorously shook her head no, and was directed to go up one more curve to a pull-off where Deb was waiting patiently. Once stopped and off the bike, she was able to take some deep breaths and drink some water. Gavin assured her that it would be Ok, and that we would go back down if she wanted to. She did, but only as a passenger.

Willing to help in whatever way necessary, Erik agreed to escort Gavin and Rebecca down the four miles that we’d ascended on his bike and then ride back up as Gavin’s passenger to bring the extra bike back down.

Now past five o’clock, a quick stop at Dairy Queen (the worst one ever) for some refueling and a pow-wow was in order to decide where to stay the evening. Once again, four bikers and a monkey were homeless with sunset only a couple of hours away. We knew another go with the rangers at Roper Lake State Park may be pushing it so we had to move to plan B. According to the web, the Gila National Forestry Park offered $5.00 primitive camping & was only 10 miles away.

We headed out of Clifton in search of the turn off only to find a 27 mile scenic byway with a treacherous hill for an entrance, rutted corners, washboard gravel and no signs of civilization or mention of any campsites. Erik was elected to scout ahead to check the conditions of the road. Misled by a pullover, Erik waved the group down only to find out that this was not the campsite and the road ahead was not paved & went on (seemingly) forever.

Now heading back from whence we came, daylight had faded. Safford was where we had started, but was not where we wanted to end the day. While making some phone calls to motels in the area, we spoke with some locals and discovered that not camping in Gila was a smart move. It seems a local girl was pulled out of her truck and buried by the side of the road under a pile of rocks. Creepy.

We decided to push on to the east to make some progress before calling it quits, and decided on Lordsburg only 75 miles away. Once there, we grabbed the quickest, cheapest, easiest motel room we could find.

It wasn’t much, but it was a warm bed and a roof over our heads without having to set up camp and worry about taking it all back down in the morning.

Day 8 April 1, 2006

2006-04-02T13:42:00.000-07:00

Day 8
April 1, 2006
Roper Lake State Park, AZ to Wilcox, AZ and Back

After checking the forecast for the Grand Canyon, it was decided that another night here would be optimal. To his dismay, Erik was sent back to the ranger’s station to renew the permit. This time, it was the head ranger on duty.

Erik: Good Morning
Ranger: How are you today?
Erik: If I was doing any better I’d have your job
Ranger: You must be doing pretty good then. How can I help you?
Erik: I need to renew our permit
Ranger: Hold on one second (and went inside to look in the blotter, and with a shake of his head) Bikers Unite?
Erik: Yes (bowing his head in shame)
Ranger: I heard that you’d talked to one of the other rangers yesterday and that y’all came to an agreement that you only had to pay once. (here follows a lecture of the rules of camping in Arizona state parks, but we won’t bore you with the details) If you look hard enough, you can find flaws in any rule. Since we already have an agreement, we’ll make an exception and honor it again. You only need to renew this for one day, right?
Erik: Yeah, we’ll be leaving tomorrow
Ranger: Good.

Erik resisted the urge to proclaim victory for the bikers out loud, and waited until he recounted the story to the group back at the site.

“Chilly” Bob Larson, our neighbor in an RV, was kind enough to give us some ideas for day rides in the area. Originally from Florida, he was now roaming the country with only what he could fit in his home on wheels.

He pointed up the nearby mountain to a set of antennas and told us of a road that went up there. There was no way down the back of the mountain with the road closed due to snow, so if we ventured up we’d have to come back down the same way. Intrigued, we decided it was an invitation to an adventure we couldn’t pass up.

Geared up and heading out two-up yet again we headed for the hills. We knew it would be cold up top since we could see the snowy peak from our campsite, so liners and warm clothes were the order of the day. Spank had complained about his view from the back of the bikes, so we let him have the best seat in the house for this romp (Mad Max style).

The mountain was steep and the ribbons of pavement wound around it ascending through trees, snow, and a few small mountain cottages.

“Wow” was the best description we could come up with when we stopped at the first available pull-off.

Reaching the top, we were over 9,000 feet in the air. The view was spectacular, and was well worth the treacherous hairpin turns. We let Spank play in the snow for a few minutes while we set up for a group photo.

Pictures just don’t do any justice to the views during the descent. Here’s just a sampling, but you really need to get out and see this part of the country for yourself to truly be awed by the beauty.

Back on level ground, we headed towards Wilcox to have a late lunch. We were told that the route would have a five mile stretch of hard-packed, passable dirt. It turned out to be washboard gravel, and was not nearly as bad for the V-Strom as it was for the VFR.

Once in Wilcox, we found the small but cozy Rodney’s. No room to eat inside, but tables out front and what appeared to be a patio area in the back. We figured we’d hit the jackpot upon noticing the personalized autographed pictures on the wall of Willie Nelson, Lorenzo Lamas, and Steve McQueen’s brother.

We placed our orders, sat with our sodas, and were taunted by the mouth-watering aroma while we waited. The food was spectacular and very reasonably priced, and Rodney was one of a kind. Unfortunately, he can’t read this for himself because he said he didn’t even know how to turn on a computer.

The result was empty plates and full bellies.

Well, not full enough that we couldn’t walk a half block over and get some ice cream and baked goods for dessert.

Once safely back in the park (well before the gate-locking curfew this time), we all decided a nap sounded like a great idea.

13 hours later…

Day 7 March 31, 2006

2006-04-02T11:40:00.000-07:00

Day 7
March 31, 2006
Rock Hound State Park, NM to Roper Lake State Park, AZ

Rise and shine. Breakfast consisted of granola and pop tarts. We had planned an early start, and were able to get packed, loaded, and moving by eight o’clock local time. Getting back down the hill was seemingly easier than the ascent the night before. The cattle must have still been asleep; they were not roaming near the road this time.

A quick stop for fuel and to adjust Deb’s cargo (it had been loaded while on the side stand and was lopsided) before high-tailing it out of town and towards Arizona. Our route necessitated getting back on I10 for a brief period, but we were able to split off onto Hwy 70 heading northwest. We inadvertently passed the state line and had to circle back for a picture, but it was worth it.

(We may not hit very many states on this trip after all. Anything much farther north than we are now seems to be too cold or has snow flurries forecasted.)

Just a mile into Arizona, we found ourselves pulling over again, but this time it was a mechanical issue. Deb’s speedometer had abruptly decided it was not going to cooperate, however her tachometer and indicators were still fully functional. With a quick roadside check for loose cables or wires (and the addition of an exhaust burn to Erik’s forehead while looking), we determined it was going to be a more intricate endeavor figuring out the problem and coming up with a resolution. Since she was pacing us, we knew she wouldn’t be speeding and could do without it until the next full stop.

Miraculously, after the next gas stop, her speedometer was working again. We will have to keep an eye on it going forward, but we are hoping for the best.

Just a mile or two down Main Street, we found Jerry’s Restaurant (not to be confused with Denny’s) and were very pleased with the standard diner fare. We were afforded the opportunity to sit in a large corner booth with plenty of space for ourselves and our gear, access to an outlet for charging, and a great view of the Comfort Inn next door that offered free wireless internet. Yeah, we sponged some free web.

We also got to meet Bob Clark, a local rider and president of the Easteren Arizona Motorcycle Riders Club.

He says he found us by following the smell of burning rubber, but we think he’s just a jolly man that likes to meet riders that come to his town. We were right – he sat and talked with us for a while offering up stories of rides gone by, details about upcoming rides, and places to go and things to do and see in the area. His riding club is putting on its 14th annual Observation and Poker Run in a few weeks. An observation run follows a route of 150-200 miles, then asks questions at the end about things that you were supposed to see along the way. If you don’t pay attention, you can’t win prizes. Either way, the Special Olympics is the real winner and gets the proceeds.

Bob offered up a great route idea up 191 through the Coronado Trail. He had ideas for gas stops along the way, places to eat, and spots to stop at for scenic photo ops. When we asked him if there was a Honda shop where we might replace Erik’s missing fairing bolt, he said that unfortunately there was none, but that he used to be a mechanic and had an assortment of nuts and bolts back in his garage that we were welcome to look through. We told him we’d see how the events of the day unfolded and he gave us his phone number and told us to call if we needed anything while here in Safford.

After finishing up our early afternoon breakfast, we headed for Roper Lake State Park. This time, we sent Erik and Gavin through the park to find our nesting spot before putting any money in any box. This park was beautiful like all the others, was set on a lake with swamplands and high grass to house the ducks and other assorted wildlife.

Gavin and Rebecca walked down to the restroom while Erik and Deb began setting up camp at the chosen site. Returning to see the tent already up, Gavin hesitantly suggested a site closer to the water that was not reserved this weekend. It offered a covered structure over the picnic table, which the original site didn’t. Three out of four campers agreed that the second site was better, even though the original scouts had agreed nixed it.

The definition of “happy camper” would be Erik walking a hundred yards across the camp area with fully-erected tent hovering above his head, murmuring the whole way. Nobody knows quite what he was saying, but it’s probably better that way.

After moving, we realized we had to go back up to the ranger station to let them know about the site move. Erik was somehow nominated for the task, and hopped on the bike to take care of it.

Erik: I need to move my site
When the ranger got the envelope out of the lock box and noticed there was only $12 in it, he informed Erik that since there were four bikes, each bike would have to pay an entrance fee.
Ranger: Please deposit $30 more
Erik: You gotta be kidding me, right? (censored for public viewing) For $40 I can go get a hotel. The manager of the site told me that one was enough since we can fit four bikes into one parking space.
Ranger: It’s in the rule book that a motorcycle is a vehicle and we charge per vehicle, sir. Since you’ve spoken with the manager, and the head ranger will not be in until tomorrow, I guess we’ll make an exception this time.
Erik thanked him, turned and walked away, threw his fist in the air for the other campers waiting in line to see, and shouted “Bikers unite for cheaper camping!”

Arriving back at the new site, Erik was obviously no longer upset about the changing of the site. His new focus had turned to the park ranger and the entire state of Arizona for their inadequate rules regarding vehicle fees in their park system. He was certain that the park rangers here should be over working at the dam park like the other dam rangers.

Once the site was setup for the night, Rebecca was able to hang her hammock (for only the second time so far on the trip) and take a relaxing nap. Little did she know that while asleep, the others would abandon her for a geocache high atop the lookout. They also happened upon this on their way back…

(no snakes were harmed in the making of this story)

Rather than eating Ramen for the fourth night in a row, we decided to head into town for dinner since it was only seven miles from the campsite. We were looking for the Wendy’s we’d passed on our way in to keep it cheap, but when we couldn’t find it (hmm… maybe that was a different town?) we decided to hit up ‘ol trusty – Jerry’s again.

Dinner fare was just as great as breakfast had been earlier in the day, but since Gavin had such a hard time choosing between eggs and pancakes before, he stuck with the breakfast side of the menu again.

We made a quick run over to the local Wal-Mart for a few more essentials (more pancakes, and extension cord, and a head lamp for Deb - her pen light just wasn’t cutting it), then we headed back to camp. As we arrived, we saw exactly what we had hoped not to see.

We forgot the cameras on this little outing, but trust us that the looks on our faces were priceless when we saw that the gate to the park had been shut. It’s an electronic gate with a keypad, but at no time were we given a code. There isn’t supposed to be any vehicle traffic in the park after 10 o’clock, but here it was a quarter after 11 and four bikers were stuck. The monkey was back at the campsite having a good ‘ol time with some of the neighbors he’d cozied up to in our absence.

Erik jumped over the gate to see if the was anyone in the ranger’s station and Gavin was working on unhooking himself from his bike while Deb and Rebecca played with the keypad. They tried all kinds of codes that make patterns (they usually set the codes that way so that people don’t forget them) but nothing was working. 123#, 321#, 426#, 258#. Nothing. Just beeps telling us we’d gotten it wrong.

“What about 1234?” asked Deb, and sure enough – open sesame! We quickly hurried through, afraid that it might be on a timer or that it might have set off an alarm in the station. Riding down towards the campsite, rabbits were running rampant trying to get themselves caught under the wheels of the bikes.

Turning down towards our site, Gavin thought that we’d made a wrong turn and pulled over to turn back around. At the same time, unbeknownst to Gavin or Rebecca on the red bike, Erik had shut off the power to the yellow bike and he and Deb were coasting down the hill without lights in an attempt to remain quiet. We almost collided, Erik and Deb coasting at almost 25 mph and Gavin and Rebecca halfway through a U-turn. Yellow and red make orange, but luckily we avoided that scene by mere inches. Grabbing a handful of front brake, Gavin was now faced with keeping his bike from hitting the pavement as it went over to the left. Instinctively, both he and Rebecca had gotten their left feet down and were holding the bike up with pure adrenalin. Nothing scratched, broken, or bent, but both Gavin and Rebecca would be sore in the morning. I guess we’ll have to stay in this beautiful setting for another night.

Day 6 March 30, 2006

2006-04-01T10:08:00.000-08:00

Day 6
March 30, 2006
Ruidoso, NM to Rock Hound State Park, NM

Our hopes for an early departure were hindered by the late night laundry fiasco involving an uncooperative dryer. While waiting for downy softness, at least Rebecca was able to update the past days accounts.

Fooled by sunny skies, Spank headed out for a romp in the playground only to find that the wind had not died down. It seemed that the same gusts that had failed to push us off the road yesterday were back for another round.

As we wound our way through the mountains, descending in elevation, the chill in the air seemed to fade.

The morning’s debate over thermals and liners was quickly becoming a moot point. As we crested a hill, we were presented with either the beauty of the white sands of New Mexico or a plethora of snow - the group prayed it was the former.

In Alamagordo, we stopped for a quick picture of an odd-looking statue. It’s a roadrunner made entirely out of radiator parts and scrap metal.

Our objective was to find our first out-of-state geocache since our desire to find one earlier in the trip had not panned out. The first search took us to a scenic desert location in Alamogordo.

Surrounded by cacti, we were protected by our riding gear and did not succumb to the perils of the thorns.

We signed the log, traded some goodies, and returned to the bikes on the nearby dead-end street. With temperatures nearing 75 degrees, we now had the arduous task of removing liners and opening vents. We knew this would all be for naught later in the day, but it was necessary to remain comfortable in the mid-morning sun.

Our next search led us to the New Mexico Space Center.

The log-only cache was cleverly hidden in launch rail of the A.J.A.X. missile system displayed on the hill. We looked around and marveled at some of the historic achievements in engineering that were proudly displayed.

Spank was excited to find the gravesite of his distant uncle (and often forgotten American hero) Ham, the first astrochimp. As a tribute, he decided to “Salute to the brothers that couldn’t be here”.

Val, working in the gift shop, suggested Mom’s for lunch. No, not her own mother, but rather a homestyle restaurant in town. We arrived at Mom’s Home Cookin in short order, and received prompt attention by the wait staff. These ladies were the absolute definition of attentive, and were sweet as pie.

Both Rebecca and Erik indulged themselves with the special of the day, consisting of Salisbury steak with potatoes, veggies, and Texas toast. The drinks were bottomless, which quickly quenched our thirst.

On our way out, we met Dan from Las Vegas who had returned home to Alamogordo on his Suzuki 1500 six months ago. He recalled the long days in the saddle and wished us well on our journey. It’s great meeting like-minded riders along the way and turning strangers to friends with only short conversations.

Hitting the straight highway was not the most fun route, but got us to the dam park without much trouble. Leesburg Dam State Park, that is.

We had called ahead to confirm availability, were assigned a campsite at the front desk, and took off in the gravel to find Site #10. After a little confusion, we found it – and its current occupant. He had paperwork for the site, so we headed back to the dam Visitor’s Center to correct the snafu. The ladies waited while the men made arrangements for site #12 to be our home for the night, but after a short recon mission it was determined that dam site was booked as well.

Having no other dam sites available (other than the gravel parking lot they called ‘primitive camping’) and the money stuck in a dam locked box and irretrievable without a dam Park Ranger, we made a call to Rock Hound State Park, and Gloria was able to guarantee accommodations and honor our dam permit for the night. Under no circumstances should anyone stay at that dam park. The dam staff was unorganized and had no idea what dam sites were already booked.

Rock Hound was 45 miles away as the crow flies and sunlight was fading. Little did we know that on the paved roadway, it was almost 80 miles away. Getting there was half the battle – passing through the open range with the free-roaming cattle and getting up the heart-stopping hill in thick, loose pea gravel was to be an entirely different story.

The failure of the last two riders to observe Erik flailing his arms as a warning to stay back and avoid the incline almost cost us dearly. We managed to narrowly avoid two scratched up bikes, but emotions were running high. Picnic tables were quickly moved aside so that tents could be pitched on concrete slabs instead of gravel, since no campsites were available and we had to occupy the day use area.

Now settled, we were afforded the opportunity to see a beautiful sunset. It was one of many on this trip already, but certainly will not be the last.

We were nestled between the glowing city lights in the valley below and the majestic mountain peaks seemingly within arms reach. There was a quiet calm all around, and the twinkling of the stars above had the effect of a mother’s lullaby on an infant child.

Day 5 March 29, 2006

2006-03-30T07:22:00.000-08:00

Day 5
March 29, 2006
Bottomless Lakes State Park, NM to Ruidoso, NM

The wind had picked up overnight, and it was chilly. Breakfast consisted of pancakes – we managed to get a lower simmer from the camp stove by placing the grill over the flame, providing more space under the pan. We’ve started getting more creative with the meal options, and this “just add water and shake” pancake mix is certainly going to make it back into the mess kit more than a few times before the trip is over.

Deb and Erik made a quick recon ride down to the bath house, and met a father and son team on a Goldwing from Albuquerque. They’d frequented this park on at least a dozen occasions and love coming back. We can certainly see why.

A hot shower was long overdue, even if we had to “mash the button” for more water every thirty seconds. Annoying, but rejuvenating. An electric hand dryer provided the first opportunity for the girls to dry their hair since leaving Houston.

On the road again… I just can’t wait to get on the road again… Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway…

Highway 246 from Roswell to Capitan was a roller coaster of twists and turns amid the hills, and is an absolute must for any motorcyclist visiting this area. We could have done without the gusting wind that seemed to want to push us off the road, but save for a few locals and a gravel truck along the way, we were alone for almost 80 miles of riding heaven.

With the elevation approaching 5,000 ft., the temperature was dropping quickly and we pulled over to don our liners to stay comfortable.

Capitan is the home of Smokey Bear. “Only YOU can prevent forest fires!”

Although we’re hoping to eventually find a campsite in an area not under a burn ban, it is clear that the dry conditions and gusty winds make fighting fires almost impossible.

Only a few more miles into town, we found Tom’s BBQ, “Best in the West”.

Suzanne Freeman (a former Houstonian), owner and operator, was there to serve up some great homestyle grub and “Luv Ya Blue” was all she needed to say to spark up old-time football conversation.

She offered up advice on where to spend the night, since some of the local campgrounds were still closed for the winter.

Cobbler and brownies with ice cream toppers were the perfect sweet treat, and then we hit the road again in search of overnight accommodations. Banito Lake Recreation Area was nice and scenic, but the camping area was less than primitive. We sent Erik down the gravel road for recon this time, and he said it was as if they’d stuck a sign into the ground on the side of the road – no table, no grill, nothing.

We made a few phone calls and headed back for town to try some of the local RV parks. Unfortunately, none had available tent camping. The only suggestions we received were for the strip of hotels and motels down near the ski area. With sunlight quickly fading, we conceded to staying in a room for a night and giving the camping gear a rest. Motel 6 offered the best bang for the buck with an indoor pool and hot tub, continental breakfast, and laundry facilities.

Once the bags and gear were nestled in the room, the guys set to the task of plugging in the TV. Now here’s a pair that have their priorities out of whack.

Pizza delivered from Dominoes in 20 minutes, laundry stuffed into the less-than large washing machines, and a few minutes of news and weather got us ready to plan for the next few days. We’d like to make it to four corners within the next two days, but it might be a stretch. The weather looks to be especially cold and windy to the north of us, so we may have to adjust to stay south of the jet stream. Clean, dry clothes feel good against the skin while you fold them in a heated room with cable TV. Ah, the joys of camping….

Day 4 March 28, 2006

2006-03-30T00:12:00.000-08:00

Day 4
March 28, 2006
Bottomless Lakes State Park, NM to Roswell, NM and Back

Waking up and knowing that you don’t have to break camp and pile all of your stuff onto the back of a motorcycle is quite refreshing. Staying another night in this tranquil setting was an easy decision to make, allowing us to spend the day taking in the sights in nearby Roswell.

We all agreed 2-up was the easiest option for the day’s excursion. Before heading into town, we accepted Debbie’s (the camp hostess) invitation from the previous evening to come take a look at the offerings of the New Mexico State Park Visitors Center nearby. She went through a number of displays with us and was very knowledgeable about the park and all of its offerings and history.

She took a special liking to Spank (hopefully Sockette won’t get jealous when she sees this).

She also allowed us the opportunity to charge up the laptop and camera in a wall socket while looking around and then journeying through a scenic eight mile loop through the park. A parking lot with access to an overlook provided ample opportunities for more photos.

Due to the treacherous terrain and Rebecca’s fear of heights, alternate approach methods had to be used to achieve proper photo alignment…

And this was the result:

Riding as a passenger affords more opportunities for photos along the way as well.

Erik and Gavin set to the task of figuring out why Deb’s blinker had gone out. It couldn’t be a fuse, because the front blinker was still operational. After removing the lens and inspecting the bulb, it was determined to be caused by corroded contacts. A few quick scrapes with a pocket knife, and it was good as gold.

With the infamous alien city of Roswell sitting only fifteen miles to the west of the park, we couldn’t resist becoming tourists for an afternoon.

Having received a tip, we headed for Martin’s Mexican Restaurant for lunch in town. Good food at great prices, and friendly service. Couldn’t get WiFi, but we managed a cellular connection to get more pictures uploaded.

The UFO museum offered first-hand accounts of the supposed extraterrestrial crash landing back in 1947. For $2, you get to walk around a collection of affidavits, newspaper clippings, drawings, and maps of debris fields. As if presented in scientific format, there are interactive displays offering a recorded radio broadcast, aerial photos, and eyewitness accounts of all things related to Area 51.

We found convenient parking right next to the John Simpson Chisum statue and across from the local courthouse. We found a city employee working in the plaza and asked if we could take the bikes up onto the walkway to get some photos. “Sure. I designed it, so I guess I can say yes.”

Jim Sexe (pronounced sexy) designed the plaza and base for the statue, and proudly pointed out his name on the plaque when we thought he was pulling our leg. What are the odds?

Jim gave us some ideas of where to go next. He said that about 70 miles west was a loop that would be both scenic and fun to ride. It winds through Lincoln and over to Ruidoso, which he highly recommends adding as a stop on our journey. It’s locals like him that provide this type of inside information that is crucial for our continuing adventure.

Just a half mile down the road, the Roswell McDonalds boasts one of the most outrageous facades for a fast food joint. We sat for a few minutes with a drink and some ice cream, and set a plan in place for dinner that evening.

Another three miles, and we were shopping at Wally World to restock the rations and pick up a few assorted items. We’d all but given up on thrashing tent stakes with rocks, so we splurged and spent $2.97 on a mallet. Spank got to ride in the front of the cart, but he was pretty well behaved and didn’t pull anything off the shelves.

He also made a few friends in the arcade.

As we poked our heads out the door, it was evident that dark clouds had rolled in and the ground was beginning to show signs of a drizzle. We quickly loaded our goodies and our now slightly-damp selves onto the bikes and high-tailed it out of town and back to the seclusion of our campsite.

Ramen noodles and crackers for dinner, some fruit punch to wash it all down, and we set to the arduous task of getting the last two days of memories documented for all to read. As the wind picked up and lightning flashed over the adjacent butte, the guys rigged up a military poncho/tarp to block the gusts. It worked rather well, but as the night progressed the evening bugs began to congregate around the luminous fluorescent (and now duct-taped) light perilously strung above us on a makeshift pulley. Not able to withstand the swarming any longer, they group split up and sealed themselves from the creatures of the night inside their respective tents. Tomorrow shall bring a new city, new sights, and new adventures for Four Bikers and a Monkey.

Day 3 March 27, 2006

2006-03-27T20:16:00.000-08:00

Day 3
March 27, 2006
Carlsbad, NM to Bottomless Lakes State Park, NM

We woke up to the view of beautiful mountains and fresh air.

Now out of Texas, we were in no rush to leave because we had no destination. Oatmeal and some snacks for breakfast, and hot showers provided by the KOA. They were very nice and clean, and had heat lamps over the showers and everything.

Gavin and Erik were able to switch out the blown fuse without any issues, and all was right again in the land of blinkers and brake lights.

Packed back up, we were headed back towards Carlsbad Caverns National Park. Knowing that the walk-through tour was estimated at an hour and a half, we opted to stop for lunch beforehand. We happened upon this – the No Whiner Diner.

The restaurant was Rebecca’s pick. As a child, her parents had made comedic imitations of the classic Saturday Night Live skits “The Whiners”. Whenever the kids got squirmy on road trips, they’d pull out the whiny voice and funny one-liners, but the jokes were often lost on the youngsters. Now older and wiser, Rebecca likes to remember those great times – and what better way than this aptly-named eatery.

The food was great, and we were able to pick up wireless internet in the area. We quickly got the previous day’s entry up on the web for the eagerly awaiting spectators like you.

Spank went for a walk to the playground next door, and found his own iron horse.

Bellies full and a few packs of crackers stowed for later, we saddled up and headed out. Spank decided to hitch a ride with Deb for a change, and later informed her that her right rear blinker was out. What is it with this bunch and lights?

Someone let Erik have control of a camera for the ride over to the caverns, so we have lots of this…

On our way up the winding ribbon of highway, we stopped for some scenic photo ops.

Once atop the mountain, the Caverns awaited. We bought our tickets (only $6, not a bad deal) and headed down 750 feet in the elevator to the labyrinth of caverns below. Expecting high humidity, we were all pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t nearly as bad as a mid-summer day in Houston.

The pictures are too numerous to post in their entirety, so here is a sampling…

After the caverns, we raced the setting sun heading north to Bottomless Lakes State Park.

We won the race, but upon arrival we were faced with a decision – primitive camping ‘over yonder’ for $10 or a site with water and electric (surrounded by RVs) for $14. After a quick recon mission through three inches of pea-sized gravel, Rebecca made the decision that Deb would certainly NOT be traveling through that section. Debbie, the camp hostess, met us at the entrance and helped us decide. The choice was clear – primitive, scenic camping nestled in the hills next to a lake.

We made quick time of tent erection, and pulled the V-Strom closer to the picnic table so as to get some power for the laptop. Bad move on our part. May we present exhibit A:

Little did she know, but when Rebecca tried to unlock her still-mounted saddle bag, the sink hole lying in wait below the side stand decided to give way. Nothing broken, bent, or scratched thanks to the soft dirt, but a large hole in the ground that we would have to watch out for the remainder of our stay.

Bungee cords were used to string up everything from gear to bags to camelbaks. While attempting to get the largest of our lights hung over the picnic table, Rebecca had the misfortune of knocking it off the table, crashing down on the concrete below. Not to worry, electrical tape and duct tape to the rescue! Exhibit B:

Some dehydrated backpacking food was prepped and served, and before anyone could say “whistlebritches”, it was 10:30 local time (which, at some unknown point, changed from Central to Mountain) and time for us to call it quits on day 3.

Day 2 March 26, 2006 Sonora, TX to Carlsbad, NM

2006-03-26T21:56:00.000-08:00

Day 2
March 26, 2006
Sonora, TX to Carlsbad, NM

(sung to the Folgers theme song) “The best part of waking up is Debbie in your bag”, but we’ll have to take Erik’s word on that. He says it wasn’t too cold for him last night because she’s a good conductor of heat. Heat was certainly a good thing – the overnight low temperature tied a record low for this day in history here at a blistering 30 degrees. By midnight, the livestock actually started to quiet down – which helped those of us who were restless and cold and having trouble sleeping.

Sunrise came and went, but the huge globe of fire hadn’t warmed up the air much even a couple of hours later when we finally emerged from our nylon shells. We quickly layered on clothes and got the camp stove fired up to boil some water for breakfast: oatmeal and cocoa. We realized we hadn’t gotten any pictures of the campsite last night, so we snapped a few and then set to the arduous task of packing everything back up and back onto the bikes.

The wind was clearly attempting to have us stay put – it was a hard, steady wind with unpredictable gusts that made packing up tents look more like flying a kite. We finally got it all tethered and hit the road.

First stop, Déjà vu. Ozona – the same gas station that we had stopped at yesterday when trying to find a campsite. This time it was quick – nobody even removed their helmet (which appears to make all the difference in the world between a quick refueling and a break lasting at least a half hour).

Back on the road, the wind was throwing us everywhere. Even at the “calm” spots, it was pushing us steadily enough that the bikes were all leaned over despite riding in a straight line. We arrived in Fort Stockton for some lunch, but we don’t want to hit the local DQ. The GPS says there’s a Mexican restaurant only a mile away, so we head in that direction. La Rosita – small, quaint, and decent food.

The service left a little to be desired, but it was obvious that the locals were catered to more than these funny-looking travelers. Spank enjoyed the chips and salsa (once we got the waitress to bring some, that is).

New Mexico, here we come!

The goats were the demise of Erik’s fuse. Yup, you read that right. Somewhere around Red River Gorge Erik wanted to find out if the goats on the side of the road were “fainting goats”. These are animals that freeze and simply fall over when they hear a sudden noise. They aren’t harmed, just a little dirty. Maybe Erik was being taught a lesson about being mean to them, because the use of his horn (a new one installed just last week) caused the fuse to blow and the loss of not only his horn, but his brake light and turn signals as well.

The horn would have come in handy a half hour later when he was trying to flag down our self appointed fearless leader on our way up into Carlsbad Caverns National Park. We’d entered the park without stopping, but Deb and Erik were soon realizing fuel was low and there was no indication of fuel or camping up this road. Deb and Rebecca both watched and laughed as Erik got right up behind Gavin, waving his arms in the air with exaggerated movements. No sign from Gavin that he saw him. Was his gear blocking his view from his mirrors, or was he simply having too much fun on these twists and turns due to the absence of any twisties the entire ride here?

Not wanting to run out of gas, Deb, Erik, and Rebecca pulled off into a small parking lot for an “exhibit”. Not sure what (specifically) was being exhibited, but the scenery was outstanding.

Gavin eventually came back for us, having reached the end of the road, taking some pictures, and asking someone about camping. We managed to make it back down the hill before running on fumes, and once refueled we headed towards the city of Carlsbad to find a campsite.

Billboards were everywhere promoting hotels and motels, but only two for campsites. The Carlsbad RV Park and Campground with WiFi, an indoor pool, and “family fun”, and the KOA 20 more miles north. We had decided during the planning stages of the trip that we’d be keep it cheap – no fancy hotels, motels only when absolutely necessary, and no KOA due to the price.

The Carlsbad Campground was rustic (to say the least) and was right on a major highway. It was $16.50 a night, but the tent sites were a mere hundred yards from passing cars with no screening.

Despite the low price, we all agreed we’d have to spend a little more than we had planned and we moved on. A quick stop at Autozone for some fuses for Erik and a call to the KOA, and we were back on the road for 20 more miles.

The KOA had a gravel parking lot, but thanks to Deb’s new lowering links it wasn’t much of a hassle. By the end of this trip, we should be pros at maneuvering in less-than-ideal conditions. We chose the “tent village”, which amounted to a grassy area for the tents, gravel parking for the bikes, and a covered area with storage, a picnic table, and electricity. To top it off, there was a grill, a fire pit, and electricity on the site. Clean bathrooms and hot showers, a general store, and friendly staff. It was worth the $40.

The sun was setting and we got the bikes parked, then headed over to the store/restaurant to see what we could muster up for dinner. There had been a pot luck, but it was already over and the banquet room was mostly empty. As it turns out, they had closed the kitchen early because of the pot luck, and we almost decided to order a pizza. Not wanting to wait, we picked up a pack of hot dogs, some buns, and a few sodas. We were going to head back to the campsite and boil them on our stove, but Connie, our lovely KOA hostess, insisted that she boil them up for us in the kitchen. We sat and ate, and as the pot luck was cleaned up we were given the leftovers! Chips and salsa, guacamole, some taquitos, and even some pizza rolls. We didn’t much mind being charity cases.

Got back to the campsite, set the tents up in the dark, then we settled down for a game of Scrabble. Deb ended up winning by only five points, but Spank didn’t really have any good letters to work with.

Settled in for sleep in now-cooler but not quite cold temps. It’s forecasted to get down to 51 degrees, so thermals weren’t necessary.

2006-03-25T21:39:00.000-08:00

Day 1
March 25, 2006
Houston, TX to Sonora, TX

“Is that frost on the windshield?”

It was early and it was cold. Not as early as it should have been for the aggressive plan to get out of Texas in one day, but also not as cold as it could have been considering the oddities of the weather in Houston.

“At least it’s sunny,” and that it was. Clear skies and open road awaited the group as we headed west. First stop was the gas station on the corner to top off the tanks and adjust the tire pressure on the now heavily loaded bikes. Breakfast from a gas station is never great, but it’s fast, and easy, and cheap.

Traveling down the freeway, each rider had an issue that warranted a stop. Oddly enough, none thought to pull over before Erik finally made the “over there” hand signal near Luling. Seems nobody wanted to hold up the group with their own issues, not realizing that they would be helping the others out with the stop as well. Gavin had a severely runny nose, Rebecca had left some vent zippers open on her jacket and was freezing, and Deb and Erik were both in pain from their earphones. We topped off the tanks again while we were there, and headed back out with even more determination to get some miles under our belts.

As we hit San Antonio’s city limits, the clock showed 12:01. We’re not making great time, but we should be able to make up for it after lunch. Or so we thought…

Stopped for lunch in Boerne (pronounced Bernie, go figure) at the Flagstop Café. It seems Gavin and Erik had eaten here once before and were pleased with the selection and quality of food.

Spank made it known that he was being tossed around on the back of the bike – enough that his tail and foot were hitting Erik’s rear tire.

We tried to make it up to him by treating him to a big lunch, and some fresh brewed iced tea to wash it down.

Erik showing off his woman and his mug of fresh coffee…

Another stop in Junction, TX for some wake-me-up and more go-go- juice, and we concede to failing at our first mission: high-tailing it out of Texas on day one.

We knew it was a stretch goal, but we didn’t make a very valiant effort. Each gas stop took almost an hour, and lunch even longer. To make matters worse, we stopped twice as often as we had planned based on fuel consumption – the smallest tank in the bunch can handle about 175 miles, but we stopped at just under and just over a hundred. Only once did we actually go until Deb’s low fuel indicator came on.

We had to choose between a campsite 8 miles away or 60 miles away. Hmm… we all agreed we wanted to get as far as we could before the sun began to call it quits. We pass through Sonora and arrive in Ozona, but the “campsite” was actually an RV park. New plan – head into the adjoining restaurant to look up some campsites and sit a spell.

Drinks all around, and some toast for Rebecca. The waitress suggested Sonora as the nearest town with a decent campsite. A quick call to the Caverns of Sonora confirmed the availability of a primitive tent site for $11. We were on our way!

Arrived with enough time to set up the tents and hammock in the remaining half hour of daylight, and then we headed up to the store/souvenir shop/tour center. They run guided tours through the caverns every half hour, and we might do that in the morning before we head out. They also make their own fudge, so a sampling was in order. YUM!

As we walked back to our site in the dark, one glance upward revealed one of the reasons we were out here on this trip: the stars. Without all of the city lights polluting the view of the night sky, the most amazing field of astronomical miracles makes itself known. It’s a shame they hide behind all the smog back home – more people might be tempted to see them and enjoy the calm of the country if they knew what the universe had to offer in place of the evening news. (Note: Our feeble attempts at photographing the night sky were useless. You’ll have to take our word for it or get out from behind your computer and come see it for yourself.)

Sleep begins early for weary travelers. Although the mileage wasn’t impressive, it was a good start to our journey. Then again, any day on the road that ends with all of us alive and well sleeping peacefully in our tents is a good day. Might be a good night too, that is if the sheep will stop with all that racket and go to sleep already!

5 Days To Go!

2006-03-20T13:11:00.000-08:00

Ok, excitement is building as the trip draws nearer and nearer. This weekend Deb's SV was lowered - she can almost flat foot the bike now! Erik added a 12v accessory socket to his, Rebecca worked on her ammo can saddle bags some more (but didn't finish), and Gavin got his new Aerostitch Darien jacket and pants. He looks like a fireman, but it's a pretty spiffy getup and it matches his bike very nicely. Gavin also got some new boots, Rebecca and Erik both added new bungee nets to their stash, and multiple lists of "to do" and "to buy" are being compiled.

We all agree that while this seems like a very expensive trip, it's really just the quick gathering of supplies and gear that would normally occur over an extended period of time. Tents, sleeping bags, luggage... these will all last years and we will all be ready for any trip after this, be it overnight, long weekend, or six months around the world!

Counting Down...

2006-03-14T12:10:00.000-08:00

Only 11 days to go until we hit the road. Everyone is making their lists and checking them twice. I think we are all set, but nervous. Or excited. What's the difference, really?

Erik bought himself a small cutting board to keep his kickstand from sinking in, Deb got some assorted MREs from her father, Gavin bought some cool new riding gear, and Rebecca is making me my own pair of jeans! I'd say they're keeping busy.

The big question: Are we ready?

Day 2: The Monkey Takes Over

2006-03-05T21:23:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I let these crazy biker humans run the show for day one. I wasn’t really sure what they had in store for me, so I sat back and chilled. Well that’s over with. Now, I’m taking charge!
For those that haven’t met me, I’m the monkey they have tagging along for these adventures to nowhere. They dress me up, they toss me around, and they have me strapped to the back of the bike. No gear, just flopping around in the wind. They say ATGATT (all the gear all the time), but I don’t even get a freakin’ helmet!

Sunday morning came too soon. They had me up late playing cards the night before, then expected me to just ‘rise and shine’ before the sun even came up? I think it was something like 6:30 when I peeked over and saw them heading for the picnic table.

I sent two of them into town to get some breakfast for the rest of us. They took Rebecca’s bike, since it would fare the best two-up on the unpaved road. She was considerate enough to take her luggage off it first, and Deb and Erik were on their way. They came back with the cooler bungeed onto the back of the bike. Just glad I wasn’t also strapped on the back there! According to Erik, there IS such a thing as a back seat rider, and Debbie’s picture is listed next to that entry in the dictionary.

The humans ate some breakfast-looking bakery stuff that apparently came from a gas station, but they all said it tasted good. Kolaches, donut holes, and cookies. Healthy, eh? “That was a strong raisin!” proclaimed Gavin after biting into an oatmeal cookie.

Precious, commonly referred to as “Miss P”, came by to see what all the fuss was about. At first I was glad the humans still had me up on the table, but I quickly came to realize that she wasn’t going to hurt me.

I went snooping around the wood pile for a bit, and took a few more pics.

I got to climb a tree with the tall human, Erik. Finally! You’d think these people had no idea what monkeys like to do or something!

Are you crazy humans going to pack up your stuff so we can go, or what? Time’s a wasting and you guys said you wanted to make the most of the day!

Apparently they think this is the proper technique for cleaning out the tent…

They finally had all their crap reloaded on their steel horses, and I got strapped back onto the bike for the journey home.

But first, a few stops to find local geocaches. One was at a scenic overlook in La Grange, where I got to come off the bike for a few pictures. Unfortunately, I got blocked by Debbie in this one.

So I got to pose for one of my own. Too bad it wasn’t sunny out.

We also met this guy. His name is Bob, and he’s from New Mexico. We told him about the trip we’ll be going on at the end of the month out his way, and he gave us lots of recommendations about where to go and what to see. He had a steel horse of his own, but his was much bigger than the others I’ve been riding with. They say it’s called a Road King, but I didn’t see a crown or scepter.

Then we went to find another cache, but this one was in the woods near a school. They found what they were looking for, then the humans went looking around in the area. They found this, a swing out over the river. Uh, hello? I’m the monkey. I’m the one that’s supposed to be swinging from trees!

They got hungry after all the tree-swinging cache-finding fun, so they went over to the local DQ. How many men does it take to get Rebecca out of her pants? HAHA! Seems Rebecca had some issues with her zippers, so this compromising position was just too much for me to resist snapping a pic.

While inside stuffing their faces, the group was pleasantly surprised to find that DQ is apparently the social center in this town. These lovely ladies had stopped in for their Sunday afternoon game of Dominoes.

After eating, the group headed home for Katy, Houston, and Huntsville. This weekend was a lot of fun, and I think everyone learned a little about themselves and their camping companions. Well, we could have done with a little less knowledge of this side of Erik, but it was still fun.

See ya next time!

The Funny Farm, Day 1

2006-03-05T20:09:00.000-08:00

“I love the smell of exhaust in the morning.”

Getting all of the gear onto the bikes was an ordeal for Rebecca and Gavin. Not quite a hassle, but something that needs to get easier. As we learn to pack the bikes it should just become more natural, but this morning it made for a late start and a few well-justified cuss words.

We rolled out the door and down the highway, met Erik and Deb (and the monkey), and we could finally say we were on our way. On our way to great things? To adventures? To sights and sounds and smells that we’d never experienced? Maybe. We were headed towards La Grange for a weekend camping trip at Spider Hill. We were hoping to use Dennis and Paula’s yard (or at least a small part of their 25 acres) to try out our accumulation of camping gear in preparation for our “big trip” out west in a few weeks.

We filled the gas tanks up in Brookshire and shortly thereafter stopped in Sealy for a quick lunch stop at Whataburger. in Sealy. A hundred miles or so later, we got turned around off the freeway – in just enough gravel to make turning the bikes around a little treacherous. We reached the road to the house, but to our surprise it was not paved. As always, Rebecca was sent ahead on a dirt recon mission to see if the street bikes would be able to traverse the terrain. She reached the driveway and was greeted with a smile and a wave from Dennis, who had been speaking with a neighbor. A quick call to the others to confirm that the hard-packed dirt was easily passable, and we were all up at the house in no time at all.

The lay of the land was beautiful. Rolling hills, trees all around, and loose dirt under foot to make setting the bikes on their kickstands almost impossible. Deb and Rebecca each had something to place underneath to keep from sinking in, but Gavin and Erik were scrambling for scraps of wood thin enough to fit. Once the bikes were steady, we got to the task of setting up the tents and unpacking the gear.

All four of us took the time to set up each tent together, which seemed easy enough. Should we split off next time and have tent races to see who can set theirs up fastest? We’ll have to see.

Sat back down at the picnic table to talk over “the plan”, of which there wasn’t any. Right then, a family of bees decided to revolt against Gavin and his can of Pepsi. Moved the Pepsi away, but they didn’t seem to realize the relocation. More bees showed up, so it was time to get the wasp spray and fly swatters to evacuate them.

We started a blog, and finally decided on a name: “Four Bikers and a Monkey”. Apparently “Fearless Foursome” was already taken. We can create a mission statement and have room to give each other a proper bio.

Meanwhile, Erik proudly displayed his (primarily) military issue first aid kit contents. Bandages, iodine, a plint, gauze, and even an emergency blanket. Does it really get that cold in the desert in March? Better safe than sorry I guess.

Got to test the new stove. We ended up with an MSR Whisperlite International for it’s portability (fits inside the smallest pot) and ability to run on all different fuels, including unleaded gas. For those that have cooked with gas before, you know that it can tend to build up carbon and clog – this particular model is easy to clear just by shaking. Well, you might want to wait for the stove to cool down before shaking it, but you get the idea.

Contrary to what Paula thought, we managed to not light the property on fire. There’s still a burn ban in the area, but a camping stove is considered an enclosed flame so it’s safe as long as we’re careful. Boiled some water and whipped up some hot cocoa with French vanilla creamer. YUM!

Dennis and Paula, being the gracious hosts that they are, took us on a walk of the grounds. They’ve been out here on weekends working on the property with the warm spring weather clearing paths and trails through the brush. The walk took us down the hill to the dry creek bed, then over to a large plateau that would be perfect for building a second house on the property. A Thoreau-esque cabin, perhaps? “Only if it’s got a big barn garage” answered Dennis.

Only two pine trees have been found within the acreage, but with careful clearing maybe some saplings will spring up in the next few years. Interesting cacti, stones of granite, and the occasional weathered animal bone peppered the path. This walk would have been impossible later in the summer, as the greenery would have been overgrown in many areas.

Dinner was an assortment of military MRE, beef stroganoff, and fettuccini alfredo with some pop tart and squeeze cheese. It was an experiment, really. Only needed heated water (easily done on the new stove), but we forgot a measuring cup. Guesstimated the amount of water we needed, but too much in the stroganoff and too little in the fettuccini. Runny noodles, and dry chunks of turkey. Um, yum? It was still better than the concoction called “country captain chicken” in the MRE.

Erik brought a magnesium fire starter, and had raved about how it was supposed to flash and easily start a fire by simply shaving some of the magnesium into a small pile and then sparking it with the attached flint. It had started getting chilly, so we decided to let him have some fun with fire and we’d put a few logs on. Being the ex-army boy scout, he should certainly be able to handle the task. Or so we thought…

“Well that wasn’t very impressive, was it”.

Short video clip

On his way back to the tent, Gavin made a new friend. A copperhead. Uh, poisonous!

Dennis locked it in place with a forked walking stick, and Erik grabbed a shovel. In no time (with a quick pause for a picture), they had it chopped into bits and dispersed in the woods. Definitely keeping the tents zipped shut tonight!

Some microwave popcorn (a camping luxury for sure) and a quick game of cards, and we were ready for bed.

Seemed like it was much later than it actually was, but that’s what happens when you don’t have TV and a house full of distractions. Ah, the joy of nature.