AZ Day 7 - A Day of Adventure. . . .

Last night I plotted my route and uploaded it to the GPS when I got one last email. A buddy from Dallas/Fort Worth and a personal Motorcycle God of mine provided some intel on the Big Bend National Park. He wrote:

"You simply must ride TX 170 from Presidio to Study Butte. It's mandatory, bro."

When you get a directive from a man who spent the better part of 2007 riding damn near everywhere in America, including Alaska, you'd be well advised to head his words. I did. Unpacking my GPS I rerouted my trip and set my sites on Presidio, TX, 643 miles down the road...643 miles that I turned into 700!



I awoke early and hit the road as the sun was rising. Heading out of the resort I spied a local coffee shop just opening for the day so I scored my first good cup of coffee since Amarillo...not known for their coffee but Starbucks is now officially everywhere.

Just as I was thinking everything was going my way I hit my first obsticle of the day, a road block. Damn!

Turns out there was a bad wreck down the road and the Deputy was blindly sending everyone any direction but where I wanted to go. I stopped to talk and take a picture and when he found out I was from Georgia he took interest in my trip and offered a short cut if I didn't mind a dirt road. I've ridden probably twenty or thirty miles on dirt roads and since the average speed is around 20-25 mph that equate to over an hour of dirt road experience. A Goldwing is about as far from a dirt bike as is possible but if you stay out of the soft stuff and use the rear brake she'll handle it just fine. I had to traverse four miles of dirt roads before my first turn so I set off, keeping my speed down and steering clear of the soft stuff.

The road quickly became heavily rutted, looking like a washboard with 4 inch ribs. The vibrations were too much for the bike (or at least me) so I found a patch of hard soil by the side of the road. However it soon became soft so I maneuvered through the washboard and found another patch of hard pack. However, once it ran out I was again on the side of the road on solid ground--until it was no longer solid.

The front wheel lurched to the right and I saw a fence ahead of me. Wrenching the bars to the left I turned her to the washboard and thought I saved her when BAAAM! I went down.

I was traveling no more than 20 mph when the bike fell. I was aware enough of my circumstances to keep my hands on the bars but my left foot was ripped from the peg and dragged behind me. I remember clearly thinking "Oh shit. My foot is going to either get crushed by the rear side guard, a curved chrome bar, or I might get lucky and just have a sprained ankle after the saddle bag lands on it.

Turned out I was extremely lucky and avoided any injury. Due to the soft sand damage to the bike was minimal but it also allowed the bike to effectively settle beyond it's usual ~45 degree angle. I've practiced picking up the bike and it's not hard with proper technique. However, between the angle and the soft sand preventing me from getting a good foot hold the bike just laid there.

Note the marks from my boots sliding in the sand as I tried to lift her the first time.

I felt a pain in my lower back as I tried to lift it and then saw the bike was laying in front of a farm house. I figured I'd give it one more try and then knock on the door and try to get help. Kicking foot holds in the sand I was able to get the bike up and on the sidestand. After a brief inspection I determined there was no damage so I started her up and rode off. Fortunately the main (paved) road was less than a quarter a mile away!

Back on track, I hit I-10 just east of Phoenix and headed towards Texas. But first on the agenda was making my way through Arizona and a sliver of New Mexico. The mountains along the interstate provided a nice break from the monotony of the road.

Between the detour and dropping the bike I was a half hour behind schedule but I was making good time on the interstate until I saw a road sign that read "Saguaro National Park." Aw, crap! An entire childhood of watching cartoons with saguaro cacti in them made me take the next exit and head to the hills.

After refueling I headed into the park for a quick tour. It was wild!

To say this things are big is an understatement!

And while some cacti were just past bloom others were blooming or preparing to do so.

And I even found a curvey road to play on. Hot damn!

Back on the interstate I headed into New Mexico.

This view:



Sure beats this view:



A week on the road has taken it's toll on my body. Despite slathering myself in sunscreen I've gotten burned on the nose and cheeks, with the nose starting to peel today.

But rolling into Texas I finally saw clouds. I think late afternoon was the first time I've had a cloud between myself and sun since I left Little Rock, Arkansas.

Texas is a great state for riding with a generous view of speed limits, even on surface streets.

But there's also the flat lands.

The last few days have taken quite a toll on my windshield.

I was surprised to see a balloon in the middle of a Texas field.



But when I passed the entrance I noticed there was a radar platform on the Balloon. A military crest on a sign was the tip off that the balloon is there for border surveillance purposes.

I had no reservations for the evening as I wasn't positive I'd be able to make Presido. And after adding nearly 50 miles to my trip by taking the side tour of Saguaro National Park it was looking less likely.

But before I grabbed a room I needed chow.

For the unitiated, there's a joke (fact?) among riders that Goldwingers tend to gravitate towards Dairy Queens. Well, maybe that's true. But when you're a Goldwing rider from Georgia you go to Dairy Queens in Texas.

After dinner I ran across the street and purchased a higher sunscreen my snacks for tomorrow, a bannanna and couple of apples. But if tomorrow goes like today then that might be my breakfast and lunch.

No more pics for late afternoon as I was riding through deer country and it was all I could do to keep my eyes on the road and hand and foot over the brakes. A little over a year ago a well known motorcycle safety expert, Larry Grodsky, died when his motorcycle collided with a deer just outside Big Bend National Park at night. The same park I was going to, at night. I slowed my pace and made it into town but my motorcycle God's words about Grodsky's death were ringing in my ears; "anyone who rides a motorcycle through The Bend at night is asking to die."

Larry Grodsky died here.