Keep on keepin’ on
November 16, 2020 Filed under Uncategorized
Another fine day on the road! Clear and cool. Time to load up.
Nick was pleased this morning, for he had repaired his torn glove with a little sewing kit, and now his hands would both be warm.
The first thing we did after packing the bikes was to roll across the road and check out the tank, at Nick’s suggestion. It was pretty dang cool.
On the way out of town we stopped at a coffee shop and got their version of iced mochas. For breakfast, Nick chose their lasagna with green chiles, then devoured it in seemingly less than a minute as we stood outside.
“It’s actually pretty normal lasagna,” he said. “I was expecting something with maybe corn in it. Something New Mexico-style.”
While we were standing around, an old man rambled by. For some reason he mentioned that his grandmother had grown up on land near the nuclear testing site in Nevada. Nick commiserated with him, reciting all kinds of scary facts abut the radioactive fallout that had blown eastward from the site. The guy’s expression was hard to read. I couldn’t tell if he was unsurprised by everything Nick was saying, or quietly horrified. Eventually he tipped his hat to us and rambled on.
We got back on the main road parallel to the highway, then went up a very steep hill, passing under the highway to the northern side. At the top I declared it was break time.
Before hitting the highway again we met an old man who ran some kind of car museum. He asked the usual questions about the bikes and then talked about a business he had back in Arizona.
“If you’re passing back through there, give me a call,” he said. “You’re welcome to camp any time.” He handed me a business card which I tucked into my saddlebag. It would be pretty weird if we actually passed through there, but, who knows?
We rolled under the highway again, then took an onramp. Once again the shoulder was nice and wide, but also littered with dangerous trash.
An hour later Nick rolled to a stop with a flat tire. We changed it by the roadside with trucks roaring by, and I extracted two short slivers of steel from the inside with my needle-nose pliers. Probably acquired from running over the belting of earlier truck blowouts. We reassembled everything, moved our clothing layers around, and kept pedaling.
Nick recalled our conversation from earlier, and added:
We rode well into the night, listening to more of The Worst Hard Time. The wind never did help us, though it did stop fighting us for the second half of the day. Every hour or so we would unwrap a chunk of pizza from tinfoil, nibble it down, and toss the crust into the weeds.
The final stretch into Tucumcari was a series of increasingly steep hills that hadn’t registered on Google Maps, which annoyed me a great deal.
THE QUOTABLE NICK, #4
We got to our exit, which drew us away from the highway and towards the center of town. Along the way we saw some spooky abandoned buildings and just had to check them out, even if it meant missing all the open restaurants.
We checked in at the motel and then dashed downtown for Chinese food, a type of food I hadn’t had in what felt like ten years. It was exactly as I remembered it. But it was still the best option in a town otherwise dominated by the all-mighty hamburger and steak.
We chomped, sorted through our gear, and traded memes back and forth.
The last thing I did was pull the busted tire tube out and soak it in the sink to locate the puncture, then prepare and apply a patch. The patches were vital: I seriously doubted that I could find a replacement tube for a 20-inch wheel in any of these small towns. If it really came down to needing a new one it would probably be fastest to order one through Amazon and hunker down for a few days while it arrived.