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!