Wednesday, July 20


The place I stayed last night was the worst one of the trip. When I checked in the man was nearly rude, and he was just nasty to his wife who was also helping check me in. He spoke to her in another language in front of me, and while I couldn't understand what he was saying, it was the tone ... a nasty, dirty, ugly little man. The name of the place was the Regal Motel in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Don't stay there.


On the road again at 8 a.m. I knew I had a lot of miles to get to Sun City to see Spinner, about 700, but I'd talked to her and she knew I'd not be in until Thursday afternoon. She had things to do anyway, so it all worked out well for me. I'll take a northern route through the mountains so I can avoid some of the heat and not have to do it until I'm only a couple hundred miles from Phoenix.


Since I now had two days to do those miles, I elected to to the route Biker Bill (AKA Hobbs) had mentioned, up to Angel Fire and around through Red River and Questa, near Taos. I took off and had a delightful ride, saw a couple of deer and a turkey right next to the road. The temperature was the best, T-shirt riding but not too hot. But I still had my hydration vest and neck snakes soaking in water since I knew I'd need them later.


I was on some real backroads, and then saw the sign ... gravel. What the heck's going on? I stopped, looked at it, and then decided it was not for me. I didn't know how far the gravel went and I didn't want to do 10-20 miles of it. (Hobbs told me later it was about 15 miles and not so bad, but I saw a lot of gravel, good-sized rocks and an opportunity for me to get myself in trouble out in the middle of nowhere all by myself.) So I got the bike turned around and backtracked. That was 60 miles or so out of my way. I hate to backtrack. But rather that than gravel. Yesterday the wrong town; today the wrong road, except it was the road I'd picked. It just wasn't a good one.


It took me a few miles to get unangry, but I was finally back on track, through Mora, and on to Angel Fire. Angel Fire is a beautiful little town, in a beautiful setting in the mountains. It's the site of a Vietnam Veterans Memorial built by Dr. Victor Westphall in memory of his son, David, who died in Vietnam in May 1968. It's the only state park in the United States dedicated exclusively to Vietnam veterans. The building sits high on a hill, and is visible from a distance, a white, futuristic-style that fits somehow.

This is the memorial chapel.

Doc did most of the work himself, and you can see that it was an incredible act of love. There's the chapel, that is truly a work of art. It's like a theater inside, with seating, and boxes of Kleenex for those who should need it. There is a light, photos and a wreath. Some have put down items that a loved one might have used. You can light a candle, which I did, in my mind to honor those who died, those who were there, those who still suffer from a war from which they did not come home heroes.


Inside the visitor center there is a museum dedicated to various people who died, a nurse, David, and others. It's a display of photos of men killed in action but David's is always in the middle.


There are other statues, including one that is called "Dear Mom and Dad" which reflects a soldier faced with the dilemma of writing home to his family, but not knowing what to say about what he's doing so they will understand, a Huey helicopter and walkway bricks for U.S. Veterans either living or deceased. Hobbs says there is a photo of him in this memorial. I wished I'd known before so I could have looked for it specifically. Next time. Maybe he and I can go together on a different road trip.

Dear Mom and Dad ...

While I was never in a war, and was very insulated living in Alaska, this memorial truly pulls at your heart because of the love shown, the dedication in memorializing a beloved son, and the honor bestowed on others who served in that war. There were other vets there and I could overhear them talking about the Vietnam war. Ihope that seeing this park and all it has to offer helps to heal their hearts and spirits.


From Angel Fire I continued to Red River and Questa, which is the Enchanted Circle, and a beautiful ride, with plenty of riding for those who like curves and scenery that will blow your mind. Trees, creeks, it's the best kind, and not so hot you couldn't enjoy it.


I reached Taos to gas up and then head west on Highway 64, to Farmington where I hoped to make a quick stop at the shop. While there two bikes and a caravan of cars took off. I was wondering what that was when a young lady leaned out of her car window and hollered at me, "Viva Los Montoyos." What was that? Inside the gas station, because there was an issue getting the credit card to work, I asked. The attendant said there was a family reunion. Too fun. I should have followed and maybe been invited to a barbecue or something. But I needed to get on the road.


Taos makes me wonder about things. I stopped to take a photo of some type of earth-friendly community. All the homes, and there are a number of them in this area, are built partially into the ground. They all have colors in the clay, appear to use tin cans and bottles as decoration, and look like something out of a science fiction movie. But they are beautiful in their own way, even making you think of other countries with spires and castles.

Earth-friendly building.

As I rode on I then saw a noose with an effigy of a person, with a sign that said this is how we still do it. It gave me the creeps and the chills. I did not stop to take a photo of it. Very strange.


Harlow is a hard-working girl, but she certainly isn't the Road King. She's not as agile in the corners, nor as quick as a bike that had a kit that allowed it to pass everything but a gas station. She's much more languid and laid back, but a pleasure to ride. I'm thinking of ordering a tourpack for her so she doesn't appear to be such a "Clampett" bike. And I'm tired of loading it in a certain way every day and still looking like a Clampett. We'll see.


I forgot to tell you all, when Onery was leading me to the Harley shop in Colorado Springs, I passed a guy on a blue bike, Road King I think. I waved, and he blew me a kiss. Then he ended up behind me. At the stoplight we chatted and he followed us to the shop since that's where he wanted to go, too. He was meeting his soulmate of 30 years he said. He was going to call her and she was coming there to meet him. He was a long, tall drink of water and quite pleasant, from Kentucky. But with his accent I had a bit of difficulty understanding him. But it was a brief and friendly encounter. I hoped his lady would come, be kind, and maybe there would be some joy. I left before finding out.


Tonight I did not ride in the dark, but it was close. It was still dusk when I arrived in Kayenta. Riding through the rock formations at that time of day was surreal. I marveled at the beauty since I've only ridden through here during the daylight hours. It's a totally different and unusual ride, and something that cannot be captured by a camera.


Got food, got fed, got phone calls done and got to bed.