I spent a few days in Florida. Florida is not a place for me. The billboards alternated between attorney advertisements and retirement schemes. The land is flat. It was pretty hot. None the less I took some time to sit still for a bit. As expected the local Five O stopped me for having a NY license plate. I didn't do anything wrong other than being far from home, which is wrong. Aside from that, I enjoyed riding up and down the coast line in minimal clothing. Explored a few beaches. Ate some decent food. Then it came time to set off again. I was a little hesitant as the real trip was about to begin. I've explored much of the eastern seaboard already and even rode through areas that were still familiar. I set my sights on the west and took off at sunrise.
I did not know where I would be stopping. I did not want to pound the miles again however there was not a whole lot that interested me on the map. I've used couchsurfing in the past with success and managed to find a host in Pensacola last second. It was still a decent amount of miles in one day though. Oddly I did not feel far from home when I stopped at this bay.
Below this sign, on the ground, was a loaded diaper and a few needle caps. Sigh. The welfare scum and junkies were clearly everywhere. If I think about it too much I get frustrated. It is a real problem and it is caused by real people with money. All I want to be is far from it. I can't fix the problem so I'll have to leave it behind.
As planned, I arrived in Pensacola. I was not impressed. Litter lined the streets. Lowlifes walked back and forth, seemingly with nowhere to go. Bad vibes all around. I got to my host's location, a run down cul-de-sac. Okay don't judge a book by it's cover. My host was a young college gal, stuck in a poor generation. She was nice however as the day went on, the environment changed my attitude. It was bad enough that my motorcycle was parked in the open where the lowlifes continued to walk by it, eyeballing it constantly. My host had a story that would concern me even more.
A week prior she broke up with her boyfriend. Okay, that happens. His name happens to be the same as mine. He still has a key to the apartment. He "loves guns" according to her. The holes in the wall are from him. The damage to her car is from him. Okay maybe she is just naive but really? Is it remotely considerate to host anyone, especially a male, after such events? She didn't seem concerned. I opted to sit in the chair, facing the front window, gun at an easy reach. I let my phone charge as I watched the hoodrats play their games outside, wheeling and dealing, jiving and fighting. I was far from home yet I didn't feel it. She went out for the evening and I simply hung out with myself. She came home drunk and upset. Apparently she found out her now ex-boyfriend had been continually cheating on her with all her friends. Yeesh. It's like I never left work. At that moment I decided it was my best interest to just stay on the road. I said my farewell quickly, threw my stuff on and hit the road at 4:00am.
I wanted nothing to do with this region. So I made it so. I pounded the miles until I got to Texas, my next rest stop. I cleared 1000 miles in one day just to get away. I had a sigh of relief as I got to Texas, although it is not a mountain paradise I did manage to find some excursions. Finally getting into what truly interests me.
A happy Nate
I thought about camping here. Instead I opted to hit my next rest stop with my cousin. I was back to dodging storms like I was in Florida. Heres the radar.
I arrived there safely and took another extended break. The meat and potatoes of this trip didn't go as I had planned, or hoped. Soon it became obvious to just roll with it. I took a few days off and enjoyed a pleasant stay with my cousin. Off I went to Austin, Texas to get dinner with an old friend. I arrived early and began scoping the area out for a place to stay the night.
The rain still came. I found a nice campground, seemingly free since there was no one there. I didn't think it was the off season but whatever. I enjoyed a local taco favorite with an old friend while I pondered my next move. West Texas was nothing. Flat. Large. Boring. The evening got late and I decided to ride through the night. Or at least try to. Again, here I was pounding out miles. I stopped for a break somewheres with no cell service. It was well into the night at this point. Churches make great stealth camping spots. There is no night activity and there is usually some outside structure that'll provide shelter. Best part is if you're caught, the people involved with churches are usually quite understanding. The one floodlight emitted an odd green glow.
I sat still for a bit. The redbull in me wouldn't let me sleep. Back to the road I went. I began nodding off as I'd come to and realize I had no idea how long I haven't been paying attention. The highway was flat and straight but on a motorcycle one really needs to pay attention. A truck stop came upon me and I pushed my bike into the edge of some bushes with the license plate facing away from traffic. License plates are highly reflective and it was bad enough my bike was orange. I matted down some grass and laid there. Trucks came and went all night. I napped briefly on and off. It was still dark and I headed back out.
New Mexico was near. Truck traffic increased immensely as I neared the oil fields. I was in an odd place, having not slept for over 24 hours. The constant wind noise and joint fatigue seemingly faded. The sky on the horizon began to lighten slightly, signaling an imminent sunrise. A sparkle came from the horizon however it was not the sun.
Huge flames danced in the sky from an infinite number of wells scattering the barren landscape. It was surreal. I stood there and just watched. When trucks weren't blasting by at 90mph (speed limit is 80mph), I could hear the sound of the fire. Sunrises are always nice but this one was surely different.
I took my time getting to the caverns of New Mexico. I ate a gas station breakfast and watched all the truck traffic. After doing a few circles due to construction and poorly marked detours, I made it to the caverns.
I haven't been to a cave since I was a child and the memory of that is quite faded. This tourist attraction was well marked with definitive paved path leading you around the caverns. At first glance it seemed it may be short lived but there was an impressive amount of area to explore. The formations inside caverns are always interesting. Massive holes and pits. Stalagmites and stalactites. Wonderful.
The asians filled this natural wonder. Something I really began to chuckle at throughout the trip. It would appear that non-residents that don't speak much if any english are the ones enjoying majority of the natural wonders of this country.
I took my time in the caverns. Finally feeling like I could slow the trip down and not ride so much. Not too far from the caverns was White Sands, a crazy oasis inbetween two mountain ranges. While perusing google maps I saw a giant white blotch in satellite view, thus leading me there.
This place was astounding. I walked over one dune of sand and immediately felt like I was lost in the desert. The sand was not like beach sand. The sides of dunes were extremely soft however once you reached the tops, the sand was as hard as concrete. I rode through a small storm to get here and now I looked back at the storm and could clearly see the whole storm cell heading my eye. The vast views were just that, vast. The wind whipped up and I couldn't do anything other than watch the cell roll in with lightning jumping around.
Two others joined me. Middle aged peace loving hippies. Why am I still judging people by their covers? I watched as the couple took off their footwear and rolled up their pants to run around barefoot. They seemed happy. Here I was standing in tightly tied boots, wearing my backpack still. Alright. Enough of this. I chucked the boots. Hung my pack on my bike and went out there. Naturally I worried about someone ransacking my bike. Stealing my stuff. This worry would keep me near my bike. Too scared to go explore. I crested a large dune and walked down the other side. I could no longer see my bike. I didn't care anymore. This was awesome.
I saw the couple dancing off in the distance. Even from here, they seemed happy. Happy and free. I headed back to my bike and they came back too. Although not a big deal to some, it was difficult for me to just talk randomly. Without intent. Without some goal. Also known as small talk. I've pretty much always had some underlying subconscious reason to talk to anyone. So I learned their story, at least a tid bit of it. He was in the Air Force years ago. They were married. They found it amusing how they too found this place simply by taking note of this unusual giant white spot on google maps. He also noted that he was stationed not far from here and yet never visited the white sands until now. I noted that I too have been visiting places that were always there but was simply too busy and blind with life. He then offered to send me pictures he took of me from a distance. A few months ago I may have been taken back by this. But I wasn't. I had no problem trading numbers with a stranger. He said it looked really cool when I was standing on top of the biggest sand dune (I naturally go for the highest point).
Awesome.
I am in this picture. A mere black spec on top of it all.
He was a stereotypical hippy, peace tattoo, leathered skin, scraggly hair but well mannered and educated. I thanked him for the pictures and we went our separate ways. On my way out, I saw three young boys riding stripped down who knows what they were choppers. Just like from the movie Easy Rider. I thought to myself that I really want to know these boys story. Were they out doing the same thing as me? Later in the day I saw they were parked near the entrance. I hesitated and didn't stop. Strangers were still strange. I really enjoyed being more open and less caring about the petty stuff but I still had a long ways to go.
I don't remember where I stayed for the night. It may have been a cheap hotel. I was motivated to camp/couchsurf/stay with friends but I did stay in a hotel a couple of times. After a few days of not showering it was nice to clean up a bit. My budget allowed a few stays too so it did not bother me. So I will just assume I stayed in a hotel that night.
My motorcycle was in dire need of maintenance, so I shot out of New Mexico into Arizona. Upon crossing into Arizona, I liked it. The environment was alpine and reminded me a lot of the eastern Cascades in Washington. Dry but the smell of ponderosa pine is lovely.
So far in the trip I managed to gas up often, never bothering to fill my spare fuel tank for emergencies. A typical behavior of mine, have means for a backup but not use it. I climbed the mountain pass in AZ. I haven't seen a gas station in awhile and was now deep in a park. Theres no driveways or any buildings. Beyond the trees of the alpine line, I could see high desert for eternity. I crested the peak and noted that I didn't have many miles left until I was empty. There was no cell service so I was left with doing all I could do, move forward at a leisurely pace to conserve fuel. With approximately less than 10 miles left, I saw a sign for "gas this way" and overpaid for gas. Getting stuck in the desert was the last thing I wanted to do. Oddly I still didn't fill my spare tank.
I did the math and it appeared there was enough towns on my way to the Grand Canyon. I ran into a new problem. My key would stick in the ignition. Not only would it stick, it'd stick in the "on" position. I could turn off my bike with the kill switch however the battery would drain with it left on and I also needed the key to open my gas cap. Sometimes it would take a few minutes of wiggling to get the key out of the ignition. I always got it out but I now feared breaking it off or finally getting to the point where it would stay stuck.
None the less, I got to the Grand Canyon. I was now experiencing National Parks in the summer. Long lines. Slow traffic. People everywhere. Yes I think people should see the Grand Canyon. It's really cool to look at but it is short lived. It is a giant hole.
I hiked down a path into the canyon itself. There was a path that led to the bottom and naturally, I wanted to go there. Time and equipment would keep me from doing so. I'd like to come back someday and make the trip. Instead I opted for a short hike and then a return to the rim for the sunset.
And a few more...
The rain still came. I found a nice campground, seemingly free since there was no one there. I didn't think it was the off season but whatever. I enjoyed a local taco favorite with an old friend while I pondered my next move. West Texas was nothing. Flat. Large. Boring. The evening got late and I decided to ride through the night. Or at least try to. Again, here I was pounding out miles. I stopped for a break somewheres with no cell service. It was well into the night at this point. Churches make great stealth camping spots. There is no night activity and there is usually some outside structure that'll provide shelter. Best part is if you're caught, the people involved with churches are usually quite understanding. The one floodlight emitted an odd green glow.
I sat still for a bit. The redbull in me wouldn't let me sleep. Back to the road I went. I began nodding off as I'd come to and realize I had no idea how long I haven't been paying attention. The highway was flat and straight but on a motorcycle one really needs to pay attention. A truck stop came upon me and I pushed my bike into the edge of some bushes with the license plate facing away from traffic. License plates are highly reflective and it was bad enough my bike was orange. I matted down some grass and laid there. Trucks came and went all night. I napped briefly on and off. It was still dark and I headed back out.
New Mexico was near. Truck traffic increased immensely as I neared the oil fields. I was in an odd place, having not slept for over 24 hours. The constant wind noise and joint fatigue seemingly faded. The sky on the horizon began to lighten slightly, signaling an imminent sunrise. A sparkle came from the horizon however it was not the sun.
Huge flames danced in the sky from an infinite number of wells scattering the barren landscape. It was surreal. I stood there and just watched. When trucks weren't blasting by at 90mph (speed limit is 80mph), I could hear the sound of the fire. Sunrises are always nice but this one was surely different.
I took my time getting to the caverns of New Mexico. I ate a gas station breakfast and watched all the truck traffic. After doing a few circles due to construction and poorly marked detours, I made it to the caverns.
I haven't been to a cave since I was a child and the memory of that is quite faded. This tourist attraction was well marked with definitive paved path leading you around the caverns. At first glance it seemed it may be short lived but there was an impressive amount of area to explore. The formations inside caverns are always interesting. Massive holes and pits. Stalagmites and stalactites. Wonderful.
The asians filled this natural wonder. Something I really began to chuckle at throughout the trip. It would appear that non-residents that don't speak much if any english are the ones enjoying majority of the natural wonders of this country.
I took my time in the caverns. Finally feeling like I could slow the trip down and not ride so much. Not too far from the caverns was White Sands, a crazy oasis inbetween two mountain ranges. While perusing google maps I saw a giant white blotch in satellite view, thus leading me there.
This place was astounding. I walked over one dune of sand and immediately felt like I was lost in the desert. The sand was not like beach sand. The sides of dunes were extremely soft however once you reached the tops, the sand was as hard as concrete. I rode through a small storm to get here and now I looked back at the storm and could clearly see the whole storm cell heading my eye. The vast views were just that, vast. The wind whipped up and I couldn't do anything other than watch the cell roll in with lightning jumping around.
Two others joined me. Middle aged peace loving hippies. Why am I still judging people by their covers? I watched as the couple took off their footwear and rolled up their pants to run around barefoot. They seemed happy. Here I was standing in tightly tied boots, wearing my backpack still. Alright. Enough of this. I chucked the boots. Hung my pack on my bike and went out there. Naturally I worried about someone ransacking my bike. Stealing my stuff. This worry would keep me near my bike. Too scared to go explore. I crested a large dune and walked down the other side. I could no longer see my bike. I didn't care anymore. This was awesome.
I saw the couple dancing off in the distance. Even from here, they seemed happy. Happy and free. I headed back to my bike and they came back too. Although not a big deal to some, it was difficult for me to just talk randomly. Without intent. Without some goal. Also known as small talk. I've pretty much always had some underlying subconscious reason to talk to anyone. So I learned their story, at least a tid bit of it. He was in the Air Force years ago. They were married. They found it amusing how they too found this place simply by taking note of this unusual giant white spot on google maps. He also noted that he was stationed not far from here and yet never visited the white sands until now. I noted that I too have been visiting places that were always there but was simply too busy and blind with life. He then offered to send me pictures he took of me from a distance. A few months ago I may have been taken back by this. But I wasn't. I had no problem trading numbers with a stranger. He said it looked really cool when I was standing on top of the biggest sand dune (I naturally go for the highest point).
Awesome.
I am in this picture. A mere black spec on top of it all.
He was a stereotypical hippy, peace tattoo, leathered skin, scraggly hair but well mannered and educated. I thanked him for the pictures and we went our separate ways. On my way out, I saw three young boys riding stripped down who knows what they were choppers. Just like from the movie Easy Rider. I thought to myself that I really want to know these boys story. Were they out doing the same thing as me? Later in the day I saw they were parked near the entrance. I hesitated and didn't stop. Strangers were still strange. I really enjoyed being more open and less caring about the petty stuff but I still had a long ways to go.
I don't remember where I stayed for the night. It may have been a cheap hotel. I was motivated to camp/couchsurf/stay with friends but I did stay in a hotel a couple of times. After a few days of not showering it was nice to clean up a bit. My budget allowed a few stays too so it did not bother me. So I will just assume I stayed in a hotel that night.
My motorcycle was in dire need of maintenance, so I shot out of New Mexico into Arizona. Upon crossing into Arizona, I liked it. The environment was alpine and reminded me a lot of the eastern Cascades in Washington. Dry but the smell of ponderosa pine is lovely.
So far in the trip I managed to gas up often, never bothering to fill my spare fuel tank for emergencies. A typical behavior of mine, have means for a backup but not use it. I climbed the mountain pass in AZ. I haven't seen a gas station in awhile and was now deep in a park. Theres no driveways or any buildings. Beyond the trees of the alpine line, I could see high desert for eternity. I crested the peak and noted that I didn't have many miles left until I was empty. There was no cell service so I was left with doing all I could do, move forward at a leisurely pace to conserve fuel. With approximately less than 10 miles left, I saw a sign for "gas this way" and overpaid for gas. Getting stuck in the desert was the last thing I wanted to do. Oddly I still didn't fill my spare tank.
I did the math and it appeared there was enough towns on my way to the Grand Canyon. I ran into a new problem. My key would stick in the ignition. Not only would it stick, it'd stick in the "on" position. I could turn off my bike with the kill switch however the battery would drain with it left on and I also needed the key to open my gas cap. Sometimes it would take a few minutes of wiggling to get the key out of the ignition. I always got it out but I now feared breaking it off or finally getting to the point where it would stay stuck.
None the less, I got to the Grand Canyon. I was now experiencing National Parks in the summer. Long lines. Slow traffic. People everywhere. Yes I think people should see the Grand Canyon. It's really cool to look at but it is short lived. It is a giant hole.
I hiked down a path into the canyon itself. There was a path that led to the bottom and naturally, I wanted to go there. Time and equipment would keep me from doing so. I'd like to come back someday and make the trip. Instead I opted for a short hike and then a return to the rim for the sunset.
A few minutes later...
Along the way back up I came across a baby squirrel. Maybe it was sick or injured or didn't care, but you could pet it.
Perplexing but okay.
A few more Grand Canyon pics.
Wildlife really doesn't care.
I left the Grand Canyon the next day and headed to my next rest stop, my step brother in Phoenix. As soon as I came off the higher elevations it was literally like riding into a blow dryer. The daily high was 115. I don't care if it is a dry heat. It was horrible. The heat stole the water from my body, leaving my nose and lips crusty. I actually rode with my faceshield down cause my interior temperature was cooler than it was outside. My legs felt a burn through my pants everytime I touched the gas tank. My bike was continually over 200 degrees. People live here? Voluntarily? Despite excessive hydration I still feel like I barely made it. I parked the bike and vowed to not ride for a few days.
The next few days were pretty much a haphazard three day binge. Eating, sleeping and drinking. I became a regular at the local water hole. The heat never left. Even over night it was around 90 degrees so you pretty much stayed indoors all day and sometimes the night too. I was feeling more free than ever, striking up conversations with complete strangers, sharing stories and buying others drinks. All things that I never really did. I even set an unofficial record for highest bar tab. Not exactly something for the resume. I didn't feel obligated to take much for pics. I was too busy. In the past, especially the beginning of my traveling, I documented a lot. That has faded. No longer do I have 500 pics to go through. While hiking with an old friend, she stopped and just sat there in the woods of West Virginia. It was scenic but she had no desire to photograph it. The scenery was for her memory. Since then, I've been drifting away from trying to document everything. Enjoy the moment for what it is.
And that is what I did. Some of it I don't quite remember. There was good food and drinks. Yelling and talking randomly. Drunkenly checking out various art galleries. And even patching up the village drunk who fell on his own glass. His blood got on me and I washed myself in bleach. The scent of bleach stuck with me for rest of my trip pretty much. There was even some of this:
A truly spontaneous tattoo. A small memento for the trip. Also done by a self proclaimed Hell's Angel. Another thing that I would have never considered. The few days flew by, money was blown but all in all, good times were had. I was even harassed by homeless people for drinking PBR.
Phoenix, or at least the part I was in, seems to be decaying just like everywhere else. Homeless people sleeping in shadows. Police cruisers darting all over the place. Run down buildings with no signs of a future. Crazy people walking the streets at all hours of the day. The few days were over and I felt good.
The bike maintenance was done in the parking lot of an Autozone, a trick I picked up from others. Buy the oil, change it in their pan, and return the old oil right there.
Along the way I got a flat. Fortunately I've had a lot of motorcycle flats and had a plug kit with me. It sucked cause of the Arizona heat but otherwise the fix went fine.
I woke up the next day at 3am to leave when it was cooler. Cooler as in 85. Of course I didn't really think it through cause I had a mountain pass to the north. It was 45 degrees an hour outside of Phoenix. My body really didn't appreciate it but I made the best of it.
I felt rebuilt. It was time to head north to refine myself.
