Texas, Big Bend, Carlsbad, New Mexico, Route 66, and home

Interstate 10 west of Baton Rouge becomes a miles long bridge across a large wetlands area - quite scenic for an Interstate. There was also a miles long traffic jam as I approached the junction with I-49, and to add to the frustration it began to rain hard. Back in California I could have split lanes, but not here. I kept looking for an accident to explain the congestion, but once past I-49 the road cleared and I was left to conclude that it was just the Interstate junction that caused the jam. The weather cleared along with the road, and I rode into Texas, through Beaumont and Houston and almost to San Antonio, where I turned north to Canyon Lake, where I met my friend, Russ, and stayed at his house for the night. This is the southern end of Texas Hill Country, and the next morning Russ outlined a route (mostly TX 46 and 16) that would take me on some interesting roads in the area. I stopped for breakfast in the town of Bandera at the Old Spanish Trail restaurant, which has quite interesting decor, including a John Wayne room.

counter at the Old Spanish Trail restaurant

From Bandera I rode south on TX 173 to US 90 near Hondo, which I followed west across Texas to the Rio Grande River in appropriately named Del Rio. The road goes along to border to Langtry, where I stopped to take a few pictures and visit the Judge Roy Bean museum. Judge Bean was obsessed with the British actress, Lillie Langtry, and even named his town after her, as well as his saloon, The Jersey Lilly, where he conducted business. Responding to many letters that he wrote to her, Ms. Langtry visited Langtry, Texas on one of her American tours. Sadly, Judge Bean had died two years before her visit.

  

After Langtry US 90 veers away from the border and it was a pleasant and quiet ride to Marathon, where I'd made reservations at the Gage Hotel. Built in 1927, The Gage is quite a fancy place and by far the most expensive place I stayed on the trip. 

After an excellent dinner at the hotel restaurant, I walked to the Marathon cemetery. There isn't much else going on in town - a gas station, general store, and one or two other businesses, including the brightly painted Eve's Garden Bed and Breakfast.

The next morning I got an early start for my ride to Big Bend National Park, forty miles south on US 385. I was very cautious of deer on the road, and indeed saw a few as well as a peccary, also called a javelina. I stopped at the park headquarters at Panther Junction, and rode a scenic loop on Panther Drive and Bobcat Loop. Unfortunately, my camera battery expired and couldn't take pictures of the bleak yet captivating scenery. Since I had two fully charged batteries at the start of the trip, I decided not to bring the charger, which would have added a whole three ounces to my load. Too many pictures at the motorcycle museums...

I headed west on TX 118 and stopped in Terlingua at the General Store. I was now on Farm Road 170, which runs along the Rio Grande and the Mexican border. From Lajitas to Presidio FR 170 is 70 miles of twists and turns and sharp changes in elevation - a real delight. It is also narrow with gravel patches and rough surfaces in places, so caution is a good idea. In Presidio I stopped at a Radio Shack and purchased a universal battery charger that would work for my camera battery.

From Presidio US 67 goes north to Marfa, and from there I rode TX 17 to Fort Davis, where I went up into the hills on TX 118 to the McDonald Observatory - well known to listeners of NPR's Star Date. There were scenic views of the surrounding countryside from the observatory, but I still hadn't charged my camera battery.

TX 118 ends at I-10 and I followed the Interstate west to Van Horn where I went north on TX 54. This is a surprisingly scenic route that joins US 62/180 and goes along the Guadalupe Mountains National Park and into New Mexico. I went across Guadalupe Pass, which at 5288 feet was the highest I'd been since the Blue Ridge Parkway. I spent the night in Carlsbad, NM and had dinner at the No Whiner Diner. I also charged my camera batteries, finally.

The next morning I rode into Carlsbad Caverns National Park and took the elevator down to the cavern, leaving the hour and a half underground walk to the caverns for another time. The caverns are huge and quite spectacular, and there were few people early in the morning in early October. 

After an hour or so I was back on the bike and retraced the twisty and scenic park road back to Carlsbad, where I got on US 285 north to Artesia. The town features seven larger than life bronze statues scattered about the downtown area, including one of an oil derrick that celebrates the town's oil heritage.

From Artesia US 82 west climbed steadily to a high plateau toward Cloudcroft, passing the Very Large Array of radio telescopes along the way.

Once over the 8600 foot pass after Cloudcroft, the road descends slowly through a pine forest to US 70 where it ends. I went north to Tularosa, where I took US 54 to Carrizozo, then west on US 380 to Socorro where I got on US 60 - small back roads across the center of the state. This is all beautiful high plains country, there was no traffic, few towns, and the weather was perfect. I stopped a bit earlier than I would have liked because my GPS didn't show any motels for 100 miles, and the days were becoming shorter. The Western Motel in Magdalena was the type of place I looked for during the trip.

Forty miles down the road the next morning I stopped for breakfast in Datil, which featured two motels, neither of which were on my GPS. So, the GPS database is like the Internet - lots of information, and some of it is even accurate. I followed US 60 through Pie Town on the Continental Divide and into Arizona across the 7500 foot Cerro Montoso summit and into Show Low, where I turned on AZ 260, a small road through the mountains that ends in Camp Verde at I-17, where I took AZ 279 towards Jerome, an old mining town in the mountains that has become a town of artists and tourists. It reminds me a bit of Park City, Utah 20 years ago with a sort of unpretentious hippie vibe - the VW van in the picture below fits right in. I stopped for a quick walk around and coffee, and even bought a framed print of a raven at the artists' co-op.

US 89A from Jerome towards Prescott is a scenic ride that climbs and twists its way to US 89, which I rode north to I-40 and then the Interstate to Seligman. This was another instance where my GPS showed only one motel in town, but I knew from previous experience that there were several. As it was I had my choice of rooms in town. 

Seligman makes a big deal of being on historic Route 66, but it wasn't crowded this late in the year.

The Romney Motel where I stayed had its own peculiar charms - maybe the owner just likes old cars.

The following morning I skipped breakfast at the Roadkill Cafe, although it seemed enticing, and headed east on Route 66 towards Peach Springs.

I always stop to visit the Hackberry General Store, which is part Route 66 museum and part souvenir shop.

The previous day in Prescott, I'd seen a tour group of ten or so Japanese motorcyclists, and that evening when I walked to dinner in Seligman I saw them pull into the Route 66 Motel. As I left the Hackberry General Store they all pulled into the parking lot.

After Hackberry Route 66 climbs up into the hills and connects with I-40 in Kingman. After a few miles on I-40 I exited again to follow Route 66 over Sitgreaves pass into Oatman, another old mining town that is now a minor tourist destination as well as a popular stop for local motorcyclists. I stopped for breakfast there, and took a picture of a couple of the free ranging burros, who will come right up and beg for a handout of a carrot or apple.

The iconic 1959 Cadillac shows up in the strangest places. While on a bicycle trip along the Danube in the spring, I'd spotted one parked in front of a restaurant in a town outside of Budapest, Hungary.

After Oatman Route 66 straightens and levels out, but it is still a scenic ride in a bleak sort of way. It connects to I-40 near the California border.

One of the things I worry about when I'm on a road trip is becoming ill, and the previous night I'd felt feverish and achy. In the morning I still felt ill, so I took a couple of Tylenol, and continued to do so throughout the day. Fortunately, the weather was pleasant all across central California. 

In Barstow I took CA 58 west through town, where the going was very slow with a lot of lights and shopping centers, but eventually it cleared up enough that the traffic moved along at the limit. I stopped at Kohnen's Country Bakery in Tehachapi, signs for which I'd seen on the Interstate. I had coffee and pastry and Kohnen's did not disappoint.

I'd originally planned to stay near Fresno that evening and visit friends there, but I didn't think they would be happy to see me if I were ill and contagious, so I decided to see if I could ride straight through to San Francisco. Even though it would be a 760 mile day, I was afraid that I would be feeling even worse the next day and perhaps not be able to ride. In Bakersfield I went north on I-5 and then took CA 46 to Paso Robles. CA 58 to Atascadero (just south of Paso Robles) is a more scenic and less traveled road and my usual choice, but I was feeling worse as the day went on and I just wanted to get home. As it was CA 46 is being widened and there was quite a bit of traffic and construction, but fortunately, the traffic moved at the limit most of the time. I made a brief stop just past Cholame to pay my respects at the James Dean memorial, stopped for my usual turkey and jalapeno sandwich at Margie's in Paso Robles, then went north on US 101 the rest of the way home. Thirty-three days, 10,200 miles. 

Key West, Everglades, Orlando, Gulf Coast

Key West is one of those motorcycle destinations, being one of the four corners of the US, and I was finally riding to it. In fact prior to this trip Florida was the only state I hadn't visited. It was an overcast day with the occasional sprinkle, and I rode along through the small towns and islands that dot the route. I arrived in Key West near midday and followed US 1 to a park at the end of the road.

 I rode around a bit, past the Hemingway house, and parked on Duval St, a few blocks north of the touristy main drag and walked back to the business area. If you ever need a T-shirt, Key West is the place to go. I poked my head into Sloppy Joes, and took a picture of Captain Tony's across the street, the original site of Sloppy Joes. After a good lunch that took too long, I walked back to the bike through the rain and headed out of town.

I hadn't stopped on the way to Key West, but I'd noted the interesting towns along the way, and I made a few stops on the way back since I wouldn't have a problem getting to Florida City before nightfall. Even though I was still full from lunch, I made a point of stopping at Mangrove Mama's for a slice of key lime pie.

Key West being a big tourist destination, the businesses along Highway 1 do their best to stand out.

Since Key West was the turnaround for the trip, I woke up the next morning in a relaxed state of mind and decided to ride through Everglades National Park. This was the off season for the park, and there wasn't much going on - very few vehicles in the parking lot at park headquarters. I was happy to see that someone in the park service has a sense of humor about the flat landscape:

I retraced my route out of the park and headed north on FL 997 to US 41, where I headed east across the swamplands to Naples. Even though I grew up in Ohio, I had never tasted the famous chili at any of the Skyline restaurants in Cincinnati. Fortunately, there was a Skyline in Naples, and I stopped there for a late lunch. (To tell the truth I didn't think it was all that great.) Judging by the vehicles on the streets of Naples,  it must be a very wealthy town. I stayed on US 41 to Fort Myers and then headed north and east on FL 80 to FL 29 to US 27, which is a main north-south route through the center of the state. I looked for a place to stay in the old town of Sebring (home of the historic racetrack) but eventually stopped at a cheap dive along US 27.

The next day I rode north on US 27 until I-4, where I went east into Orlando. After a quick stop at the Orlando BMW dealer to buy a quart of oil (they were out of BMW synthetic), I found my friends' bicycle shop. The rest of the afternoon I had a tour of Orlando, and the following day we went for a bicycle ride on a dedicated bike path in College Park and Winter Garden.

I left my friends' house and went back to US 27, which I followed until just before Chiefland, where I turned north on US 129. US 27 is a major road at this point, and, even though there wasn't that much traffic, I wanted a smaller road. This part of Florida is described as horse country, and it is easy to see why with large pastures and rolling countryside along the road. US 129 joins old US 27, which goes east to Gainesville, but I went west and stopped at Mayo for cookies and a cafe con leche at the Old Florida Coffee Company, a shop that wouldn't look out of place in San Francisco.

Old US 27 joins the new US 27 in Perry, but I went west on US 98. I'd thought about staying on US 98, which goes along the Florida Gulf coast, but I figured that I'd see plenty of the gulf in Alabama and Mississippi, so I cut off on FL 267 and then followed FL to the interestingly named town of Niceville, where I went north to pick up I-10 east to Pensacola, where I found a motel.

The next morning, a Saturday, I was up early and rode to the Pensacola BMW shop  to buy a quart of BMW synthetic oil. My bike uses about a quart every 3000 miles, and my spare quart was down to a half. In the shop I was surprised to see a well-used BMW F650 single in the window - Benka Pulko's bike on which she rode around the world.

Back on I-10 I rode around Mobile and just inside Mississippi went down to US 90, which follows the coast. This is a slow road with many small towns, but it is always interesting to ride along a large body of water. The area suffered a lot of damage from hurricane Katrina, and there were many wooden sculptures along the road that were made from large pieces of driftwood.

Sections of US 90 have beautiful mansions along the road, which apparently survived the hurricane.

A light rain had begun to fall, and I continued through Biloxi and Gulfport to Bay St. Louis, where I turned north and joined I-10. Beyond New Orleans I went south on I-310 and in Raceland I turned north on LA 1, which goes through small towns in bayou country, including Thibodaux and Napoleonville, where much of the movie Because of Winn-Dixie was filmed. Thibodaux is a fairly big town with an interesting few blocks of old downtown area, but Napoleonville seems to be mostly deserted.

That part of Louisiana can't be no more than three feet above sea level anywhere, and the road is never far from the Mississippi River. Every town has a surprising number of churches, and each small town also seems to have a "Gentlemen's Club" just outside the city limits. Strange place, Louisiana. There is the occasional brightly-painted voodoo shack along the road and the graves in the cemeteries, as in New Orleans, are above ground.

LA 1 runs into I-10 just west of Baton Rouge, and I found a cheap motel along the Interstate. Tomorrow - into Texas.

Virginia, Maryland, Carolinas, Florida

It was muggy the next morning when I set off on NC 18 towards Wilkesboro, where I got on US 421 east. That road merged into I-40, and I followed it through Winston-Salem. I-40 eventually joined I-85 and I stayed on that until Richmond, VA, where I got on I-95 North. The rain that had been threatening all day hit in Richmond in the late afternoon and I rode through a downpour almost until Fredericksburg, where I found a cheap motel. There were good back roads that I could have taken, but I've found that in the east you really can't make very good time on them, what with a small town every 10 miles or so. I'd made an appointment for a new rear tire and a minor service at Morton's BMW in Fredericksburg for Wednesday morning, and I wanted to be there when the shop opened in the morning.

The Royal Motel in Fredericksburg was a dump, even by my very low standards - I probably should have checked out the room before I checked in. The next morning Morton's got right to work on the bike. I had breakfast while they did the service, then returned to the shop and read in the waiting room for an hour or so until the bike was done. They didn't have the Metzeler Z8 to match my front tire, but the Michelin Pilot Road 3 has a good reputation, so I was happy with that. They also found that the paralever bushing was loose, so they tightened that and replaced a burned out license plate bulb. I was out of the shop at noon and got back on I-95 north to I-495 to US 50 and by 3:30 I was at my friend's house in Shady Side, MD.

The next day we drove into Annapolis and walked around and had lunch. I'd only been to Annapolis once before many years ago and then only to have lunch at the yacht club. It's a great old town with interesting shops, restaurants, and bars and it was nice to have a down day and walk around.

The next day I retraced my route to I-95 and stopped at Morton's again to have them tweak the throttle body balance. It seemed to me that there was just a hint of vibration, and after they made a slight adjustment the bike was perfect - well, as perfect as a bike with 111,000 miles can be.

The weather was warm and dry and I-95 isn't a bad Interstate as those things go. I rode through North Carolina and stopped just over the border in South Carolina to take a picture of South of the Border, signs for which I'd been seeing for the last 100 miles. A long time ago South of the Border was a small place to buy alcohol - the county just over the border in North Carolina was dry. Now it is a huge tourist trap. I took a picture and got out of there.

The next day I got off I-95 and headed for Beaufort, South Carolina. I walked around the restored downtown area, very upscale, and found a place to eat, then headed south out of town, stopping to take a few pictures of old, southern mansions, complete with Spanish moss in the trees.

I also stopped at the entrance to the USMC Recruit Depot at Parris Island - much less intimidating than it was in 1968 at 4:00 AM when I first saw it.

Back on I-95 I soon crossed the border into Florida and found a motel south of Jacksonville. The next morning I got on Route 1A and rode north along the beach for awhile before turning around and riding into St. Augustine.

 In St. Augustine I and walked around for an hour or so taking pictures, then got back on I-95 and continued south.

Someday I'd like to ride US 1 all the way down the Florida coast through all the beach towns, but I'd have to allow at least a couple of days for that. As it was I turned off I-95 at I-75 and rode south on the toll road to avoid the traffic on I-95. I found a motel in Florida City near Homestead and planned for an early start the next morning to head for Key West.

Ruby Falls, Rock City, Tail of the Dragon, Wheels Through Time

Ruby Falls on Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, is one of those tourist attractions from the 1930's that hasn't changed much over the years. I left Ft. Payne, AL on I-59 and took I-24 towards Chattanooga, TN and followed the signs. Inside the gift shop you purchase a ticket for the tour that begins with an elevator ride that takes you deep underground. It is about a half hour walk to the falls: "The highest underground waterfalls in the world!" Once at the falls you can admire it and take pictures, and then the lighting is shut off to be replaced by music and a colored light show on the waterfalls. Tacky, yes, but it is an impressive falls.

From the gift shop there's a nice view of the surrounding area.

Rock City, GA is just a short ride from Ruby Falls and it is also part of Lookout Mountain. It's another one of those tourist attractions from the 1930's that looks like it was updated in the '50's and then left. All around the south you see signs proclaiming "See Rock City." I'm there mainly because the place is mentioned in Neil Gaiman's novel, American Gods. There are great views of the surrounding countryside, interesting rock formations, a tacky underground ultraviolet-lit  "fairyland" and there is also a gnome garden.

After a couple of hours walking around the paths in Rock City, and a short time in the gift shop, where I purchased a gnome for my daughter, I left and got on I-24 and then I-75 north. I exited in Cleveland, TN at US 64, which I followed to Ducktown, where I went north on TN 68 to Tellico Plains. It was a cool and gray day with a few sprinkles, but the road was smooth without much traffic, and the scenery was beautiful. I went east on TN 165 (the Cherohala Skyway), which becomes Highway 143 in North Carolina, which I followed to Robbinsville. Outside of town I checked in at the Two Wheel Inn, which as you might suspect caters to motorcyclists who are touring the area. Each unit has a small, motorcycle-size garage next to it.

The next morning I was up early and had a quick breakfast of granola bars and coffee in the room. I wanted to be on Highway 129 before the traffic and the cops were out. It was a Monday and after Labor Day, but I figured there would still be a certain amount of traffic. I rode past the Cheoah Dam, which figured prominently in The Fugitive, a movie from 1993 that starred Harrison Ford.

Soon thereafter I was on The Tail of the Dragon, and it lived up all the hype. I was respectful of the chilly day and damp pavement, but the smooth road and good sight lines were an invitation to go fast. I came up behind a couple of cars and pickup trucks in the 13 miles, and they moved over to a pullout or onto the shoulder as soon as they could - thanks guys!. The twisties end a few miles over the border in Tennessee, and I had just slowed down to turn around when I saw a state patrol car with a radar gun waiting up ahead - not today! I stopped to take pictures at a couple of overlooks on my way back on the road, so I was taking it easy looking for photo ops when another patrol car came by in the opposite direction. I suspect that on a sunny weekend day in the summer there is a state trooper for every mile of the road in each direction.

I turned off onto Moonshiner 28, which is just as much fun as TN 129, and stopped at the Fontana Dam before heading over some ridges and picking up TN 19 towards Bryson City.

Old railroad tracks and a deserted building always makes for a lonely picture.

By this time the sprinkles had turned into light rain. I continued on TN 19 through the town of Cherokee, where, inexplicably, there is Santa's Land Theme Park, and into Maggie Valley, a few miles beyond the entrance for the Blue Ridge Parkway. I had an excellent late lunch at the Maggie Valley Restaurant. Since I was in the south, I suppose I should call it dinner - fried chicken, mashed potatoes, greens, and fried okra. Fortunately, they were out of the rhubarb pie.

Waddling back to the bike, I rode a few blocks to Wheels Through Time Museum, founded by Dale Walksler, a former Chicago area Harley dealer and motorcycle collector.

Although the museum has bikes from all over the world, and quite a few restored motorcycles, it specializes in unrestored American models.

There are also a few automobiles in the museum, including this 1949 Cadillac from Steve McQueen's estate.

One of the most interesting motorcycles in the museum is the Traub, which was discovered behind a wall in Chicago in 1967. The motorcycle is from 1916, and was built by hand. It is the only one in existence.

The Traub, made by hand in 1916, is one of a kind.

There was enough to see that I could have spent the rest of the day at Wheels Through Time, but, perhaps because of my visit to the Barber museum just two days previously, I left after an hour and a half and headed back through town to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Also, I wanted to get a new rear tire installed and a minor service on the bike in Maryland or Virginia.
My original plan was to ride the entire length of the Blue Ridge Parkway before heading east into Washington DC. However, the rain increased as I headed up into the mountains and the fog, and I was keeping my speed at 45 mph not because I was worried about the park police, but because I couldn't see well enough to ride any faster.

I'm sure that is a very scenic overlook when there is no fog.

After about 50 miles I decided that it was pointless to stay on a road that was known for its exceptional scenic views if I couldn't see anything. I turned off near Asheville, NC and headed east on I-40 to Morgantown, where I turned off on NC 18 and spent the night in Lenoir.