I'm Home! Safe, sound and tired.  It was mid to high 30's crossing Donner Summit this a.m., but clear and dry and easy riding all the way to the coast.  Let me leave you for this trip with just a few images (you can click them to enlarge):

The Great Salt Lake, Sunday morning--

The Great Salt Flats near the Bonneville Speedway

Clouds building in Western Wyoming

And a Ride just doesn't get any better than this:

See you all on the next outing.  How does Idaho, Montana and Canada sound? Hmmmmmmm.

Made it into Salt Lake last night about 6 and found Diane and Burt's house WAY up in the hills about 6:45. Great place with views of the whole South Salt Lake Valley and the surrounding snow dusted peaks. Spectacular place is Salt Lake C!

I don't usually stop and buy T-Shirts at every HD dealership, like some people I know, but I looked up and found the Laramie Wyoming dealership and bought one, 'cause I earned it! The 200 miles from Cheyenne WY through Laramie and into Rawlings WY are sheer hell on a motorcycle this time of year. I'd say I had constant 35 mph cross winds the whole way, with frequent gusts up to 45. Additionally, while there is an occasional car on the highway, I 80 has essentially become a trucker's run. And those trucks create wholly different and spectacular wind currents and eddies! (I was wondering why I didn't see any other bikes the whole day!) But, obviously I made it. Winds since then have been occasionally problematic, but nothing unusual. But more or less consistent winds have helped make this a tiring 1500 miles (so far) from Kansas City to Reno Nevada, where I now sit.

I spent last night with Diane and Burt Mitchell and family—talk about a family that has come together in crisis! Burt had a life threatening major stroke just about a year ago this week, and has only been home from the hospital a few months. He needs full time care, which the insurance is not picking up, and between the full time employed wife (Diane) and sons Chris and Jason, and with occasional help from Burt's sister, they are managing somehow to have someone there all the time. Burt is fully aware of just about everything, and when not tired, can participate in a normal conversation—although he comes up blank frequently on names or words and needs assistance. But he tires easily. He is in a wheelchair when not in bed and eats etc with the family. He is also still on serious medications to prevent a recurrence of the seizures he had initially after the brain surgery that was required to stem the blood flow into the brain, and the medication also has a debilitating effect. He wanted me to pass on to all the Road King Riders his appreciation for the support, cards etc that he has received from his friends. He is making slow progress towards some level of independence, but it is still going to be a long haul for him and family.

They got me out of there early this a.m. And I promptly got lost trying to get out of SLC...I basically didn't believe what my gps was telling me to do. But I finally gave in, and eventually got out. To me, the suburbs of Salt Lake are kinda spooky. If you ever saw Edward Scissorhands, and remember the suburban landscape in that flick, you'll know what I'm talking about.

The trip across the great salt flats of Utah and into Nevada is absolutely stunning in its own way. I was lucking to have some weather action—no rain, just formidable clouds-- which helps give the landscape some definition. It is desolate, but in a very beautiful way. Today there were numbers of “mirror pools” along the highway in which you could see the full and sharp reflection of the surrounding mountains. It was cool, and rain seemed imminent on several occasions, but never materialized.

It is comforting to know that good old fashioned entertainment can still be had on a family budget. Just a few miles outside of venerable SLC, lap dancing apparently can be enjoyed for a mere $10 or –save that ten bucks and travel 100 miles westward-- and that same $10 will get you a ticket to “Extreme Midget Wrestling” at the Wendover Nugget Hotel and Casino! Welcome to Nevada!

Tomorrow is a reasonably short run home of just a couple hundred miles, and it will feel good to finally get there! This has been a wonderful trip in so many respects—seeing so many old friends and such fantastic scenery. Also the variation in landscape has been astounding. I've seen everything before, in bits and pieces, but to string together the monuments of Utah, the pueblos and mesas of New Mexico and Arizona, the Texas and Oklahoma panhandle plains, the bayous and cane fields of Louisiana and its crown jewel of New Orleans with its own special and spectacular food and music, and then to add to the string the colors of the Ozark hill country, the Tall Grass plains of Kansas, the Rocky Mountains and the high plateaus of Colorado and Wyoming! It has been quite an experience!

I wish I had taken more photos, and I will be editing this blog to add some when I get things organized; But to tell the truth, much of the scenery I rode through is of such a majestic sweep that no photograph can capture it. And this doesn't even address what other motorcyclists know, and most car drivers don't understand, and that is the “being out there” aspect. When you are privileged to ride through this great country on the outside of your transport, you feel it, smell it, inhale it in an entirely different way. When the wind blows, you feel the dry dust or cold wet against your skin. The sun burns you and is in your eyes in ways impossible to experience from the inside of a car. You can smell the harvest in Kansas and smell the copper smelter outside of Salt Lake. Because people are somehow instinctively attracted to what you are doing, you get to talk to strangers a lot more; At just about every stop, people will come up to you and talk about your trip and share their memories of trips they may have taken. My hat is off to the many touring bicyclers I passed, and I suppose that is what I am talking about in its purest form: but dependence on your own motive power means you are time limited, and could not possibly string together the 6,000 miles I was able to package on this trip. So each form of transport has its advantages; but nothing can compare to the experience of wandering around this great country on the back of a motorcycle.

It was funny that both of the other long distance tourers I had a chance to really converse with on this trip made the same comment about the value of spontaneity that motorcycle travel provides. I was probably the most structured of the three in my travels; all either of them had was a beginning and end date and an eventual destination—and I'm not even sure of that with respect to the one of them. Both thought they were going to take off the next day for “X” location, but they also were still looking at plan B. When I was coming across Wyoming yesterday, I had several opportunities to hang a right and head on up to the Tetons and Yellowstone. And the weather forecast was still favorable. I was sorely tempted—but in the end I was also tiring out physically from riding so much and I was starting to miss home just a bit. I've been on the road now for over three weeks, and it's probably time to head home. Because I have had access to email, I sort of voluntarily structured an end to this trip by scheduling a music session with our group LUNA for the day after tomorrow. I did get to “pick and grin” a bit in Kansas City, but I miss my music!

Besides, if I did everything this trip, what would I do on the next one?

I'll let you know as soon as I know.

I know, I know—I'm a couple days late on the blog. Sheesh!

Gillian Welch was fabulous, as was her sidekick David Rawlings. I don't know why she is the only one getting billing publicity. I think people come just as much to see Rawlings, and he's got his own CD out now. He did one cut off of it, and the rest were off her CDs. But they were great! I had a pretty good seat up in the first balcony, but when I got there it was occupied by a guy who wanted to sit next to his friend. So he offered to trade seats, and I ended up downstairs right in the center about 15 rows back. Perfect seat and a wonderfully appreciative audience. Good evening all around.

The morning of concert day I spent washing the bike and roaming around Wichita's Old Town...To tell you the truth, it's pretty (albeit a bit ragged at the edges and with construction going on), but there ain't much “there” there, to steal Gertrude Stein's line about Oakland CA. There are a couple of lively bar/restaurants, but that's about it. I had a cup of coffee and spent about an hour chatting with a nice guy named Darren from Australia who is riding is Harley Heritage Classic from Pennsylvania, where he bought it, to LA where he will have it shipped to Australia. After all the duties etc, he will still come out ahead, even counting the cost of the trip, compared to buying the same bike in AussieLand. Anyway, we had a great conversation about biking across America—he's having a great time, and says everything they're fed down under about Americans is dead wrong: He has found nothing but friendly, helpful people here. (So who is it that's feeding them all this info about the Ugly Americans? He sounded very genuinely surprised about what he found here.) So I told him if he really wants to see the country, he had to go through New Orleans (from Wichita) to get to LA. I think he is going to do it!

After leaving the Aussie, I decided to find the local Harley dealer and look for a cool t-shirt. I also had a broken latch on my tour pack (the “trunk”), so I figured I'd get that fixed. Once I got there, I had them check the front end to make sure it was still holding up after being adjusted in Carson City. Well the latch got fixed, and the front end checked out fine, but the service manager came up to me and said he thought he heard something funny when the bike was shut down: he asked if it had been shifting and running smoothly. I allowed as I had intended to ask them to look at adjusting the clutch, as it seemed not to be starting out in first very smoothly. “Aha!” he said-- (don't you hate that!?) “I think its your compensator assembly. Hopefully, your compensator nut just needs tightening.” No such luck. The entire compensator assembly was out of spec and needed replacing. So I spent the entire 4 ½ hour afternoon before the concert lounging around the dealership while they got it done—all, of course, under warranty. Bike runs and shifts now like a dream.

Thursday I packed up and had breakfast for the second day in a row at the Town and Country Restaurant. I know a lot of places get touted as great “old fashioned diner restaurants”, but this one is the real deal. If you're ever in Wichita, do NOT pass up having breakfast at this place. Other meals are probably good too, but the breakfasts are superb. Great waitresses too! (Age 65 is, I believe, the threshold age for starting there.)

Thursday I tooled up the road to Kansas City, checked out the old neighborhood (everything looks pretty much the same) and then headed over to Topeka to meet up with my high school buddies Bob Lohse and David Graham (dentist and doctor, respectively) who were the other members of my high school folk trio (the No Name Three). Fortunately, I didn't need their professional services for anything, so we had a good dinner and then retired to play music, which we proceeded to do until the wee hours of the a.m. Thanks to Bob and Kathy Lohse for their great hospitality:  I had a comfy bed and hot shower in their beautiful home, and then got up this morning, was fed a healthy breakfast, and rode 544 miles into Denver. Tomorrow its Salt Lake City and a visit with riding buddy Burt Mitchell and his wife Diane, if I can get there in a timely fashion. Burt had a major health setback, but is progressing well.

A note about the topography here abouts. On my way to Kansas City from Wichita several people mentioned how lucky I was to get to ride a motorcycle through the Flint Hills. --Ahem.-- A Kansan's idea of what constitutes a “hill” needs some work. I was well into them before I realized where I was (due to a sign that told me I was now in the Flint Hills). It was as if Mother Nature had given a little burp, and then said “Excuse me!” “Gentle, Rolling..etc” would vastly overstate the case here for the presence of “hills”. That was –at least-- my impression yesterday. Now, having driven through Western Kansas and eastern Colorado, and presuming that the Kansans probably migrated north from the Texas panhandle and Oklahoma --the absolute flatness of which I am also familiar with-- bringing with them their sense of topography, I am willing to concede that relatively speaking , eastern and southeastern Kansas does exhibit some sort of contour, much like that of a very hopeful 11 year old girl. (And it's just as sweet and pretty, too!)

Bye for now!

Just had a hot shower and fired up the little Primus stove and brewed a french press full of decaf. Its about 70 and the tree frogs are squeaking away. (How would you describe that sound? It ain't 'croakin' that's for sure.) If you ever want a camp stove ask me what the model of this Primus is. I didn't believe the claim, but its true. It brings a quart of water to a boil in just about 1 ½ minutes!

Did a bit over 500 miles today, which is pushing it a bit for me these days, but they were “easy” miles..I got away early and had smooth sailing all the way, including getting through Little Rock at rush hour this a.m. When all other directions of travel were at a standstill. The highway goddess is looking after me!

Arkansas is beautiful this time of year. The highway led me north/north west up through Ozark country and the leaves are starting to change. Don't know what elevation I was at, but it was chilly enough all day for full riding gear without underlayers. By the afternoon and well back into Oklahoma, all jacket vents were open.

I have to say I've become a big fan of this jacket: I got it for the trip because I wanted one all purpose/all weather jacket—at least up 'til temps hit the sweltering level. This one does it so far. By itself its surprisingly warm with just a tshirt, and its plenty roomy enough for my preferred double layering system of a light wool sweater plus a polyester fleece. Haven't had to use either this trip so far. (The jacket comes with a zip in Thermal layer, but I've never found those to be all that great, and they're something of a hassle so that got left in the closet.) It fits close, so you're not flapping around in the wind, but its quite comfy. The jacket has a dozen zippered vents and has snaps designed to hold some of them open. The venting seems to work well up into the high 80s' --above that I wear a light mesh shirt that has good air flow and reflects heat well. The jacket is the Tour Master Pivot 3. It also has armor in arms shoulders and back. The jury is still out on the armor: It is very comfortable to wear—I can't tell it's there at all. But it makes the jacket considerably more bulky to pack. We'll see. All in all though –and especially considering the price of about $160.00, this jacket is a home run so far.

Got into Wichita about 4:30 and set up camp for two nights at a great private camp/RV park. Showers are HOT and unlimited, its quiet and shaded and I have power at the tent site for $2 extra. (One RV park wanted to charge $8 for power; I passed.) Wichita is much bigger than I anticipated—about 300,000 people, and has a lot of stuff going on. Being right on the Arkansas and Little Arkansas rivers lends a coolness to the air I think. (For those North of the state line, that's pronounced Ar-Kansas River BTW, not “arkansaw”). Its a pretty city too, at least what I've seen so far. Tomorrow I'm going to tour around, and go into old town to see what's happenin'. Then on to see Gillian tomorrow night! Will report later.  

It interesting to come back to Kansas for the first time in 25 years.  It is noticeably different than neighboring states such as Arkansas and Oklahoma...Its absolutely flat here. and very "developed" agriculturally speaking, with less of the open forest or open range feel. Kansans do have a good sense of humor though.  The residential subdivision next door to my camping site is called Auburn Hills.  And next door to that is Maple Valley.  I'm sorry, but to get valleys you gotta have hills, and Auburn "Hills" is somebody's idea of a good joke.  I think "The Dunes" down the road must refer to the sand traps on the local golf courses.

Musical highlight of the day--there is a great Country music station out of either Little Rock or Ft. Smith AR.  They play a lot of the oldies of country, including--today, back to back: "Rednecks, White Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer" and "Its too hot for fishing, too hot for golf, and too cold at home"!  I'd plumb fergot about those two absolute classics!

Here we are with Stand by Me!

On the Road Again! Left the Prytania Hotel this a.m. About 8:45, with kisses and hugs from Big Daddy and the First Lady, and simply followed my gps northward--mostly because it wanted to take me back via a different route than I took coming in, so I didn't much care where it led me. (I decided to take the northern route (as stated yesterday) to pick up Gillian Welch's performance in Wichita on Wednesday.) How to get to Wichita, however, is a subject worthy of some debate. There are no clear and direct routes, and the alternatives each have pro's and con's. One other reason for taking the northern route is the chance that I will be able to connect with some old high school friends who reside in Topeka and Olathe, KS—both cities within the ambit of the “greater Kansas City Area” (at least according to Kansas Citians). (Although I claim Hawaii as my home of origin, I did officially graduate from High School in Shawnee Mission Kansas, and I still have some friends there, including the other two thirds of my high school folk trio). Problem is, since I didn't plan anything, they don't know about this wonderful opportunity... Sooooooo.........IF I can connect with them, it will be great.

It turns out my gps wanted to take me to Kansas City via St. Louis! I demurred at the point in the road called Memphis, and turned left towards Little Rock, which is (roughly) where I am right now. What happens tomorrow depends on whether I can reach any of my KC contacts. Right now I'm planning in the dark. Keep the suspense going, as they say in the blogging world—where will he be tomorrow; whom will he be with? I don't know any more than do you.

I passed through Memphis, and right by the exit sign to Graceland, with considerable angst...As the song says, “...for reasons I don't understand, some part of me wants to go to Graceland...” I also want to spend some music time in Memphis. And some river time. A lot of time, in fact. But I've decided this will have to be a different trip. I can't cram everything into this one, and musically speaking I'm running on overload already this trip with so much great music to absorb.

[Note to self, and an alert to others: if in a motel six, make sure you and your neighbor agree on what channel to set the TV on, that way you can pretend you want to listen to the same one, and you might not be able to hear the neighbors commentary on whateveritisyou'rewatching.]

In any event, depending on whether I can connect tonight or tomorrow with old friends, I will go tomorrow to either Kansas City, Topeka, Olathe or Wichita Kansas. At least I've got the state nailed down! I will let you know pretty much concurrent with my own knowledge.  All I know for sure is that I get to see Gillian Wednesday. Here's a preview: this is a great clip of Gillian with David Rawlings AND John Hartford playing a simple fiddle in the background. This must have been shortly before Hartford's death from the big C. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLcNmeXMk5U&feature=related

My goodness, but time passes quickly here in the Big Easy! Someone pointed out today that I was falling behind in my blog, and I note that I haven't posted since Thursday! And here it is Sunday, goodbyes are being said and bags are being packed.

What can I say about the great and relaxing time we've had. Found Tuba Skinny on Royale Street, and had the chance to chat a bit with Erika Lewis (vocalist). I gave her my card and told her I'd find a venue for them if they ever make it out to the Mendocino Coast. Then we listened to another jazz group that was excellent and came fully equipped with swing dancers who were very talented and worth seeing just by themselves. Came back and visited some more with Grandpa Elliott over the next few days. Met some friends of his who stop by to check up on him, and learned that he likes a blue 'power drink' of some sort and a diet coke, so we made sure he was supplied. Heard him sing some more and play his harmonica on Friday and Saturday; he wasn't around today. However, in his stead we were able to listen to Doreen's Jazz group. Doreen is a remarkable clarinetist and jazz vocalist, but the highlights were her 9 year old daughter who sat in on the drum set and proved to be quite accomplished, and a 3 year old that Doreen babysits and who can actually produce sound out of a mini slide trombone he plays with.

We capped the day off with dinner at Zea's, our favorite (or one of them) NOLa restaurant –convenient as it is across the street from our hotel. Best fried shrimp I've ever had. Thank goodness I'm about to go off the fried seafood diet—I think I've developed gout in my little toe. Hope I can get my boots on tomorrow.

This a.m. I was trying to decide what route to take home (leaving in the a.m. Tomorrow). Weather across the country is uniformly benign for the serason.. Clear warm days and cold nights. So that was no help. I looked up music events in the little music enclave of Austin Texas, thinking I could route myself through there and catch some music, but couldn't find anything that grabbed my interest. On a whim, I googled Gillian Welch's schedule, and lo and behold—she's playing this coming Wednesday night in Wichita Kansas. “I can get there!” I thinks to meself. So I book a ticket on-line, and am all set to hear Gillian Welch at the Orpheus theater in Wichita KS 7:P30 this Wednesday p.m. Thereafter I'll probably head across the plains into Denver, Laramie, Salt Lake etc and towards Truckee and the descent into California and home.

Thanks again to Big Daddy and the First Lady for an absolutely wonderful, unstructured time in the Crescent City.

Don't know when I'll have access to the internet again. But I'll post asap. Adieu all!  

Wednesday: What a nice relaxing day! And capped by a great musical treat.

We needed just to decompress a bit, so the day was spent doing laundry and hanging out at the hotel as new people slowly drifted in. A few more are expected tomorrow and the next day, but most are now here. Hanging around the laundromat was also fun, as its a great way to see the hum and buzz of the Garden District under its daily routine. The Garden District is a part of NOLa that many tourists never get to see, and it has a whole different dynamic than the French Quarter, which is what most people come to see. The Garden District is known for its beautiful architecture and stately homes, but it is also a warren of converted apartments, shops, and really good restaurants, pubs and music places.

Every Wednesday night at 5:00 in Lafayette Square, the city hosts a free concert, with money from food sales going to support the local food bank. This Wednesday the headliner was Irma Thomas, a local celebrity and fantastic soul/jazz artist who has actually also won an Emmy or two, I think. Regardless, she was astounding! And such a treat for us. Afterwards, we went to a local pizza place where one can enjoy such things as prosciutto with caramalized onions etc. Fantastic food. One block from the hotel.

Thursday: after a leisurely sleep in, I took the bike over to a local car wash and put it through four cycles of the system. That got the dust off. I don't think I'll ever get all the bugs and dirt off. Eli and I then took the trolley into the French Quarter where we spent the day. Went up to the Mississippi River and watched the tugs and barges, which is a lot more interesting than you are presently thinking it is. That is one BIG river. Then a quick snack of jambalaya (me) and seafood gumbo (her) and then to Cafe Du Monde for beignets and chicory coffee. (Counting the fried shrimp dinner I had this evening, I think I gained ten pounds today.)

The real treat today, though, was running into Grandpa Elliot on the corner of Toulouse and Royal streets in the Quarter. We were walking along, and there he was—I thought. He was all alone, doing nothing, so I eventually went up to him and asked if he was who I thought. He was, and said that yes, he would sing something. So he sang Stand by Me and –since there was nobody else around –I sang along with him! What a thrill. Elizabeth and I then sat there with him and talked for a while, and he sang five or six more songs. Finally, someone came along and brought him some food, and we had to move on. I may try to find him again tomorrow, and get a picture.

For those that don't know him, he is the older, and second to appear, singer in this Playing for Change video. He has been a street performer in New Orleans for decades, beginning in 1948 or 1949—he was a bit vague on this-- when he started tap dancing on the corners for change. He still earns most of his income by street busking, but as you can see from googling him, he has also played concert halls from LA to Boston to Europe...but he keeps coming back to busking on the corner of Toulouse and Royal in New Orleans French quarter.

Another trolley ride “uptown” tonight for dinner at O'Henry's –fantastic food, and the trolley takes you right by Tulane and Loyola Universities which sit cheek to cheek along St. Charles Avenue. We were joined tonight by the last stragglers to roll in, one by plane –most by the more traditional Gypsy Tour mode of transport: Harley-Davidson. Thanks again to Big Daddy, the First Lady and Buddy the dog!

Some are heading off tomorrow to do a bike ride tour of the Garden District.  Eli andf I are not so energetic, but may try to find a way to ride the river (ferry) over to Algiers on the south bank of the Mississippi.  Want to find Tuba Skinny if they're playing the street anywhere -- My favorite New Orleans busking group.  We know they're in town, because we saw the singer--Erika Lewis-- in the crowd Wednesday night at the Irma Thomas concert.

They call this town the Big Easy, and there is a gentle easy pace to time here.  Don't think that was necessarily the derivation of the nickname, but it fits in so many ways.  Certainly, its easy to figure why people fall in love with the city.

Got in to Natchatoches about 4:00 yesterday, after a run of great weather and great roads, with no significant construction delays and decided to finish the run into New Orleans, as it was only 200 miles more. So I got into the hotel about 8:30 p.m., in time to meet up with some of the other early arrivals as well as Big Daddy and the First Lady. God bless Garmin and its Nuvi gps device, or I may never have found New Orleans, let alone the hotel. Elizabeth flew in about 4:00, so she was here to meet me.

Weather could not be more perfect. Yesterday late afternoon, coming across the Atchafalaya waterway into Baton Rouge everything was absolutely gorgeous. The light, cypress growing out of the water, everything just stood out starkly....Bigeaux Lake, Atchafalaya river, Henderson swamp, Whiskey Bay, Bayou Teche....this is it: bayou country. Air is very low humidity for NOLa, and it feels very much like Hawaii right now as I sit outside typing with a cuppa java.

Agenda today will include doing laundry and finding a carwash for the bike...can't stand it looking so ugly when all these shiny chrome horses are rolling in for the get together. Have about 30 people from various states (Wisconsin through Florida—I'm the only West coaster, although one couple is coming in from Utah, which used to be the West Coast ( a long time ago.) At 5:00 there's a free open air jazz vocalist concert by Irma Thomas in Lafayette Park. Then perhaps its over to the French Quarter to get in some more music. Going to try and hear a lot of music on this trip!

Big Daddy and the First Lady are wonderful hosts as usual, and have gone to a lot of trouble to put together ideas and directions for doing whatever people feel like doing—sort of an unstructured event with guidelines ;)

And BTW, I have started a photo album:  you can find it at https://picasaweb.google.com/hippiedave5/BetweenTheLines?authkey=Gv1sRgCMyuyLX0rN6bbw#

I''ll add more when I have time once I get to New Orleans.

Addendum to last night's post: wind blew all night across New Mexico. Woke me up several times during the night, but the ol' tent lived up to its reputation, and didn't budge, sway or do any other things unbecoming to a tent. I'm now a confirmed big fan of the Base Camp 6 by REI. However, as much as I really like being able to stand up in it, it probably is a bit much for one person, especially traveling on a MC. So I may think of selling it and getting its smaller sibling—the Base Camp 4. Traveling alone, I find that being able to sit up in a chair and read, inside with good light, is the most important tent attribute (once you've found one that will keep big rain and wind out, of course), and I think the Base Camp 4 would suffice for this.

Today was supposed to be a day that I put a lot of miles under the tires. I'm aiming to get to NOLa mid -day on Wednesday the 5^th, so I gotta hustle a bit. But I only got 406 miles down the parkway here, and am in Shawnee Oklahoma, just east of Oklahoma City.

I left Tucumcari this a.m. fairly early, but had to stop frequently because of the heat. The main thing though was the infamous winds across Okla. “Oklahoma! Where the wind blows freely across the plains!” Isn't that how the song goes? In any event, they were blowing today from the south right across I 40. On a motorcycle, this means that you are constantly steering to the right to prevent being blown off to the left; and they aren't constant of course, and are affected in terms of force and direction by every one of the (many) semi's that you pass. As a consequence, you end up working pretty hard all afternoon, and by 5:00 when –losing another hour to the time zone deal—I hit Okla. Cty, I was plain tired. So I holed up in a motel in Shawnee. This will get me an early start tomorrow. (Note to self—stop coming into major cities at rush hour!)

So tomorrow I am hightailing it south-easterly across parts of Texas and into Louisiana at Shreveport, and then south into Natchitoches. Don't ask me how to pronounce that—all I remember is that it sounds nothing whatsoever like what it looks. I came this far east on Hwy I 40 to avoid going through the Dallas-Ft. Worth complex. We'll see if its a good call, because it means I'll be on back highways the whole way. They are always more interesting, but also uniformally slower.

I do wish I had some good, reliable recommendations on places to find good cajun cooking along the way. I have found through bitter experience that recommendations from fellow bikers are often unreliable, as they tend to like cheap and plentiful, preferably both. Last trip we went out of our way to find a couple of recommended places; one was closed on the day in Q, and the other was disappointing, although obviously a local favorite.

If I make it to Natchitoches tomorrow, it will leave me only 250 miles or so into NOLa on Wednesday—if I get to Natchitoches super early, I might just go ahead a run all the way in. I kind of doubt it though, as the back road routes will not be quick. More tomorrow.

This is the post for Sunday Oct 2, 2011

“Weed, whites and wine, and show me a sign...

and I'm willin'” or so the song goes, I think (tell me if that's a mondegreen)! But I am, in any event, in Tucumcari (New Mexico) at the seediest KOA I've ever seen. The only thing going for it is that it is less seedy than its competition, it is empty—so its quiet---and the flys go to bed after dark. Actually the whole part of Tucumcari that I've seen looks like its on the down slide side of life, but maybe that's just this end of town. I'll see more in the a.m.
This trip has had some great moments. Pulling into Chinle AZ last night smelling the heavy sent of sage I found myself listening to Ry Cooder's Buena Vista Social Club. Must sound like the combo of wine and chocolate sounds to me, but it was just perfect. Then this a.m., leaving Chinle, I'm surrounded by really BLACK thunder clouds and looking at a long, empty, straight ribbon of blacktop running out to the rising horizon and nobody else out there except a handful of horses scattered across the landscape, and what comes on the old music box? The acoustic version of Hotel California. Could not have been more perfect. Chinle also happens to be the site of the Canyon de Chelly National Monument (old anasazi ruins.) I pulled in to ask how you pronounce that, as I've always wondered, and to take a quick peek at some of the ruins you can see from one of the overlooks. With rain threatening, I elected to hit the road. (It is pronounced Canyon de Shay, btw.)
Had some rain, but mostly cool air so I had my storm gloves on. Went fine all the way into Window Rock (Jim Chee's old hangout, remember?) I hadn't realized how high Navajo country is. Coming (down) into Window Rock, I passed a 7000 foot marker.
Only today am I beginning to see more bikers...pickin's have been slim in that regard. And they're mostly going west.; do they know something I don't? Met this delightful Swede in Chinle who came over to talk bikes. He owns a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy back home in Sweden, but its in winter storage already. No sign of winter here yet, although the heat has broken. It is still hot enough to be wearing, but is thankfully decent at night
Although I'm supposed to have an internet signal here, I don't. So I'm typing this tonight in anticipation of posting it tomorrow a.m. If there in fact is a signal I can reach. Good night all. Or good morning, depending I guess on when you see this!

“A horse got loose in Kayenta Arizona today. The Sheriff's office reported that Officer ___ was able to herd it using his patrol car 10 miles down Highway 160 to its corral.” At least that's how I imagine tomorrows article in the Kayenta Times will look. Rolling southbound into Kayenta from Monument Valley this afternoon, I couldn't help but notice this large roan horse trotting briskly down the highway in the opposite direction. He was properly keeping to the slow lane, as he had a pretty good clip on for a trot but it was still a trot, and was followed in succession by 1) one sheriff's patrol car and 2) fifteen

other drivers too chicken to pass a patrolman herding a horse down the road, even though they were traveling well under the applicable speed limit at that location of 45 mph.

How did I get to Monument Valley and thence Kayenta, you ask? Well, by running away from thunderstorms all day, that's how. My original plan to hit the bustling western town of Durango Colorado got busted by bad weather forecasts, which seemed to have proven out. I went south out of Moab and took a side trip over to the Needles section of Canyonlands NP.  I have to say, the first couple of miles of the side trip you take to get there is worth it, but I'd strongly advise against spending the time and money to go all the way in unless you're determined to checkoff all the NPs on your list.  Canyonlands just doesn't have that much to offer the casual site seer. Now, I will admit that if you are into mountain biking, hiking, back country camping and/or rock climbing, it probably is the place to be!  

I was dogged by rain and thunder showers coming at me all afternoon from the direction of south western Colorado. So I got to see Monument Valley instead, although I got there too late to see the inside of the park, what I did get to see from outside was plenty. What an awe-inspiring landscape. It's definitely on my list of places to come back to, along with Zion and Arches.

Tonight I am in Chinle AZ-- home, if I recall my fiction correctly, to a substation of the Navajo Tribal Police where Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Officer Jim Chee spent many an entertaining novel. I have always wanted to visit the scene of the crime-stories (by Tony Hillerman) and it was fun today seeing octagonal hogans (the traditional Navajo dwelling), sheep pens and all the wonderful scenery Hillerman describes. I will miss Shiprock, which calls for yet another journey through here. This is truly beautiful land. (Saw a beautiful coyote today, too.)

So tomorrow I hit the slab (I40 east) in the general direction of where New Orleans is, and will play it entirely by ear how far and where I end up each day. I have 3.5 days to get to NOLa, which should be plenty. I'll be camping where possible and maybe seeing some sights. Don't know if any blog entry inspirations will hit. So you may not hear from me again until Wed. when I hit NOLa. Depends what, if anything, exciting there is to see in all of New Mexico, much of Texas and the length of Loosiana.

The Germans are here in Chinle too. I don't know if they read Hillerman. Heard one of them say to another in German, of course: “If we had won the war, all ziss would be ours! Of course, my Deutsch is just a tad rusty. Auf wiedersehen!