Leaving Missouri and entering the West proper the scenery finally begins to change. At a stop for lunch in Oklahoma City I noticed the scenery wasn't the only thing that had changed - my rear tire was also changing shape, from safe to bald. After getting laughed out of the service department at the fancy High End Boutique Style Harley shop uptown (I asked if they could help me out), I stumbled on Fort Thunder HD just south of downtown O.C. What a great shop! Not only is it one of the last shops still retaining the walls of it's roots but the staff in the service department made my bald tire a top priority. They pushed me to the front of the line and had me out the door in no time with an oil change to boot! "Travelers are our first priority" I was told by the Service Manager. Cool. While waiting for my new rubber I found I really nice Evo powered rigid out back. I snapped a couple shots of it for you to see - take a peek. Nice and clean eh? The owner was a HD mechanic. He came out and told me about some speed traps heading into Texas to watch out for. All in all a great experience at Fort Thunder HD. As I crossed into Texas the sections of ridable Route 66 began to grow. Riding along them I came across scores of old gas stations, motels, bars and places I couldn't place. Neat places with plenty of ghosts. The following morning I found myself in Fort Sumner at the grave of William H. Bonney - Billy the Kid. Like the Kid once did, his headstone wears shackles - it found it's way out of Fort Sumner so many times the local law had no other choice. Lonely place his bone yard, nothing else around - for miles. After tossing a coin and nodding hello I jumped back on the RoadQueen and headed North towards Taos.
On my way across a mountain pass shortcut given to me by an old timer I got absolutely dumped on. I had rain running down the neck of my jacket, down my back and into my 527's. Then it got cold. Real cold - 30 degrees cold - then it began to SNOW. Not good on a twisty mountain pass at 10,000+feet. So I'm creeping along at a walking pace when I discovered my rain soaked leather jacket had FROZE solid. Then as I crested the summit the weather changed just as fast as it had went south. The sun broke through the low clouds and began to warm up me and my frozen gear.
The Taos Inn is my favorite place to stay (so far) in all my travels. Great rooms, hoppin bar, live music every night and some very, very colorful history. It feels like home to me. Taos is also home too much history including some that is over 1600 years old. I'm talking about the Toas Pueblo which I did not get any pictures of out of respect for the Native Americans that still call it home. It's a place that has energy so deep it simply impossible to describe through words.
The Rio Grande gorge bridge is also a stones throw from the Taos Inn and I made it a point to stop by. Places that make you feel insignificant when you experience them tend to stay in my memory banks a long time and the Rio Grande is no exception. Spooky big.
to be continued...
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