days 16 and 17, and back at the Ranch

Days 16 and 17, July 24 and 25

From Golden, Colorado to Lakewood, NM

I’m back in SE New Mexico -- 17 days and 3,586 miles later. 12 nights sleeping in a tent, 3 nights with my niece in Golden, and last night in a motel in Las Vegas, NM

I left Renee’s on Thursday, July 24 and headed south -- frustrated because there were so many roads I’ve yet to ride and some that need to be ridden again. But my time was running out. I took Hwy 285 SW out of Denver, over Kenosha Pass at 10,001 feet and through Fairplay, at 9,933 feet. It’s amazing that people live up that high. In Buena Vista, I stopped for a buffalo burger at the same truck stop Clif and I hit on our way north. Then I took Hwy 24/285 south to Salida and into the basin that is home to the Great Sand Dunes National Park – beautiful, awe inspiring, unexpected. Eighty foot tall sand dunes – the tallest in North America – are created by a whirling action of wind. A place to spend much more time than I had on this trip. On the way out of the park, I stopped for yet more pictures along the road, and the wind was blowing so hard that I couldn’t keep the bike steady with just my feet and legs; I gave up trying to get a good photo and settled for keeping the bike upright. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

There were thunderstorms building on several fronts, but I wasn’t too concerned. Weather in the mountains can often be a small cell, one through which you may or may not ride. And if you do hit it, the cells are often fairly small so you ride through rather quickly.

I headed south on Hwy 285 and passed a motorcyclist on the side of the road, obviously doing some repair. I turned around to see if he needed any help (laughing because I don’t have a mechanical bone in my body but I do have a cell phone). He explained he was fine, was heading home from Alaska (9,500 miles in 3 weeks), and that he had to stop and lube his chain every 150 miles because of corrosion from the materials used on road repairs in Alaska. We talked for a while, and Denis explained he was going to Carlsbad (that’s about 20 miles south of where my RV is parked.) He suggested we could ride together, but he was going to stay on hwy 285 and finish on Thursday (he has a one-year old and three-year old at home, worth the extra push). I wasn’t interested in riding ‘til 10 or 11 at night, and I wanted to ride Hwy 64, the Enchanted Circle, stay at Coyote Creek State Park, and have breakfast in Las Vegas, NM, before riding in on Friday. As it turned out, I should have ridden on with him.

Denis waved as I turned east on Hwy 64 at Tres Piedras. The clouds were blacker in places, and the ride was pleasant. I stopped at the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, just west of Taos, and the winds were really picking up.

I needed to eat and planned on staying the night at Coyote Creek State Park that is close to exactly nothing. I had ridden through a light rain for maybe 30 minutes when I stopped for supper in Angel Fire. Next I filled up with gas, still a light rain. Now, I’m wondering – I do not want to set up a tent in the rain. So do I ride by Coyote SP and stay instead at Storrie Lake SP in Las Vegas? I turned south off Hwy 64 onto Hwy 434, one of the prettiest rides in the state – long valleys of green that reach up to tree-covered mountains, and great twisties. But the rain was picking up a bit more. And it was getting dark, fast. Hwy 434 crosses that beautiful valley and then dips into the trees – the ones that grow on the mountains – on an easement across private land. The road is less than two lanes wide; it has no centerline and no markings on the shoulders. That’s appropriate though because there are no shoulders. The road drops off, kerpluck, three inches here, three feet there, and then ten feet down to the creek, but who’s looking because you have to focus on the road to stay on the road. And since it’s in the mountains, the road twists and turns, all without the benefit of signs or other hints as to what’s going to happen next. Oh yeah, since it’s private land, you cross a cattle gap coming in and going out, and share the road with the owner’s cattle. All of that generally makes a great ride, but did I mention it was getting dark? As soon as I was totally committed to this dark, twisty tunnel of trees, the bottom dropped out of the sky and the thunder rolled. And now it’s pitch black. I rode about 15 miles in first gear at 10 MPH, and passed only one vehicle in the downpour. I hydroplaned two times, both briefly but enough to keep one focused. The second time was when I got to the section where they painted a center line (double yellow, no passing). In the curves – which was most of the distance - I’d been riding down the middle of the road because I couldn’t see the edges of the road in the midnight black. The road, and the world, was so black I didn’t realize I’d come to the painted lines ‘til I started sliding on them. I managed to stay on the road, and gingerly passed the entrance to the State Park, relieved because I knew the road would quickly improve. It did, but the weather didn’t. And it was still a long ways down to Las Vegas.

It was still raining when I rode into Las Vegas at 10 pm. I stopped at the first motel and gladly paid them $85. I left everything on my bike and peeled off my wet gear. After a long HOT shower, I was asleep. Slept in ‘til 8 AM this morning, passed on the cold bagels at the motel, and went to Charlie’s, my favorite restaurant in Las Vegas, for the long awaited breakfast. Then I headed south towards Lakewood. I reluctantly watched the mountains flatten out as I headed back into the desert.

Back at the RV Park, I switched over to my truck and returned to Artesia to pick Grace up from the kennel.

I wondered when I left if the sugar would begin to get bitter, if the time would come when I was ready to head home, if I’d want off the bike. And the answer was – no. Though I got tired, I didn’t get tired of the bike, or even tent camping. I’d have been happy to just keep riding. There some things I’d like to change – get a custom seat, add highway pegs, maybe a bigger windshield. Next time.

days 13, 14, and 15 Golden Colorado

Day 13, 14, and 15 July 21,22, and 23, 2008

From Fort Collins, Co to Golden, Co – not far at all

I made a slow start from the campground in Poudre Canyon and headed south to my niece’s in Golden. I met Renee at her work and convinced her to take off early. After visiting with Renee, Rob, her husband, and two girls – Rowan and Jules – over a great home-made supper, I slept in a BED for the first time in 13 days. Life is really good.

So good, in fact, that I’ve hung around for a couple of days. Golden is the home of Coors Beer, a great place to hike, and a progressive town. This morning Renee and I took a hike and watched horses gallop by. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

I've tucked in a couple of pictures of my family.
And tomorrow morning I load up the bike and head south. I’d like to pick Grace up from the kennel on Saturday morning (early), so I have two days to ride. (By August 3, I’m heading back to Florida with my rig, so I can be there for my son’s birthday on August 6). It was 900 miles from Lakewood to Golden, the long way (mid-state, Durango, Montrose, Gunnison, Buena Vista,) but it’s 630 if I only do some of the mountains, and 570 miles if I stay on the east side of the Rockies. We had thunderstorms this afternoon, so my travel plans for tomorrow are weather dependent. It’s not much fun riding those high mountain passes in the rain, so I “might” take I-25 south to the New Mexico border and then slip over to the mountains in the west.

My time in Golden has been great – and now it’s time to head back.

There are so many roads I haven’t been able to take, and tons I’d love to ride again. And it’s time to head back.

day 12 Wy to Co

Day 12, July 20, 2008 – Sunday

From Rawlins, Wy to Fort Collins/Poudre Canyon, Co. – 254 miles

OK, not only do I not count well, I also don’t know what day it is. Seems I assigned July 26 to Day 11. Oh, well. It’ll be July 26 pretty soon.

I’ve stopped for the night at another KOA – this one has a better view.

I meandered through the day. Again, I changed plans over breakfast. My niece in Golden had other plans for the evening. I decided to head towards Vail, no make that Cheyenne, - not Cheyenne, OK Vail, but then. I went west from Rawlins on I-80 and then turned (I thought) on Hwy 130. But it was really Hwy 30. Close enough? The sign said Medicine Bowl and Linda said there were great roads there. Well, Hwy 30 north from Walcott takes you directly to nowhere. And the wide spot in the road called Medicine Bowl is NOT where the mountains roads hide. I rode 60 miles, passed Hwy 72, which would have taken me to the hamlet of Hanna. When I got to Medicine Bow, I stopped at the only store in town and a young lady with dancing eyes explained it was 60 miles to the grocery store, and that the attraction further to the east, Como Bull Famous Dinosaur Graveyard, had gone downhill the last 10 years and was now closed. But the worst part was, I was north of the Interstate, in the barely rolling desert and getting further away from anything I wanted to see. So I turned around. I thought of getting a good picture, but it’s hard to photograph nothingness, sort of like a black hole. Turned into Hanna, just because, and turned around (again) at the sign that read “To Mines.” I’ve gotten some good practice doing U-turns on the bike. Sometime later, I was back exactly where I came from. But this time I went south on Hwy 130, and the world began to heave and turn green. Stopped at Saratoga and had lunch beside a river. Amazing what food does to improve my attitude. The mallard added a nice touch. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

But I still didn’t know where I wanted to go. I turned east with Hwy 130 and made an incredible ride across the Medicine Bow Mountains. Linda was right. I stopped at Libby Flat and wondered if my asthma was acting up. But the sign explained my problem – at 10,847 feet you’re suppose to be short of breath. I walked up to an overlook and this cute furry critter. I asked the father of a young boy, “Is that a golden marmot?” His son explained, “It’s a wat!” Looked like a rat, once I thought about it.

My friend Helen from the RV Park in Lakewood has been at a RV park in Cheyenne for a month or so. So I decided to drop by and see her. But she decided to hook up and pull out, this morning.

OK, now what? By then it was too late to make the ride through the mountains to see George and Linda near Vail (another couple from Lakewood). So I kept turned south on Hwy 287 and enjoying. The world began to change yet again – the boulders are larger and so are the trees. Red Mountain looked like its cousin in northern New Mexico.

And now I’m north of Fort Collins. Tomorrow? I guess breakfast will tell.

day 11 Idaho and Wyoming

Day 11

July 26, 2008

From Victor, Id to Rawlins, Wy 422 miles

Have you noticed that I can’t count?

I stayed in Victor, Id for 2 days – I was just tired. Which worried me a bit ‘cause. What if …what if I really was too old for this foolishness? I was a long way from home to start wimping out. But all I needed was to sit and watch the wind blow through the trees for a day, and I was ready for the road this morning. Plus I bought me a high tech thermo rest pillow – no more scrunched up dirty clothes in a helmet bag!

I’d have been happy to head the bike towards Oregon, or British Columbia, or most anywhere. But instead, I meandered south – plans often change at breakfast. Over a repeat of huevos rancheros I looked at options. I thought I would head north along the eastern border of Idaho then drop down on the east edge of Yellowstone (to hit some cool, twisty roads and avoid the foot dragging traffic in the park). But when I did the math (read my first sentence again), I realized that would add 700 miles and I might not have enough time. So, I meandered south, winding between Idaho and Wyoming through some incredibly green-beautiful space on various highways but mostly Hwy 30 and 89. I saw two eagle nests with small heads poking over the ledge. Then the green began to turn brown, then to the desert colors I know from SE New Mexico. The mountains lay down into rolling hills, then into sandy knolls.

I stopped briefly in Montpelier, Id at the City Park, to stretch my legs, eat some fruit, and brose through a local car show. Kids were playing baseball at the park (the team in red was making the most noise ); people were walking around with their dogs; some guy was singing away, even though not so in tune. I made another stop in Afton, Wy to photo the antler arch. No matter what they say on the news, American is alive and well.

I think I’ve cleared up the glitch so you can see pictures now. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

I picked up I-80 south of Kemmerer, Wy and began to make some time. I rode hard today and I’m tired. But it’s a good tired.

I’m at another KOA. To my surprise, KOA’s work well for me when I’m alone and pushing hard. Otherwise, I prefer the state park or mom and pop type. But with the KOA I’m assured of clean bathrooms, people around to keep away the “varmints” (two-legged kind), electricity for my laptop, and often free coffee.

Tomorrow, I’ll head to Renee’s, my niece in Colorado.

days 9 and 10 Victor, Id

I left Dubois heading west on Hwy 26 through the Bridger Teton National Forest, winding with the Wind River through canyons and then climbing into the incredible backdrop of snow capped mountains. I stopped in Jackson Hole for lunch but couldn't shake off an overall feeling of Tired. So I gave me permission to sit down for a couple of days. I rode over to Victor, Id, on the quiet side of the Tetons to a campground. And here I sit.
This morning, I rode into Driggs, Id for breakfast and a bit of shopping (bought a pillow - my neck is very tired of lumpy clothes stuffed into my helmet bag and vaguely disguised as a pillow -- and a jet boil to fix tea/coffee at camp.) Other than that, I've just sat around working on this blog and watching the wind blow. Tomorrow I'll head out again - probably north to Bozeman, Montana and then begin drifting back south. Wish I hadn't needed this rest stop - but I did.

Day 7 Ten Sleep, Wy

Day 7

July 15, 2008

From Custer, SD to Ten sleep, Wy. 331 miles.

I didn’t get on the road ‘til 1 pm. I went to breakfast with Greg and Lynell and met a female rider on a BMW R1100R – young, attractive, a few days ahead of her husband whom she will meet at the BMW International Rally in Gillette tomorrow. It’s unusual to see other solo women riders – and good.

Well, I’m finally legal. I went to Rapid City and got my SD driver’s license – couldn’t pick up the renewal on my license plates tho. Have to go “home” to Emery for that.

The ride back from Rapid City to Buffalo, Wy was all interstate but it felt good to be able to run out some miles. From Buffalo I took Hwy 16 – beautiful ride. Within minutes of turning west from Buffalo the road began to climb up rocky hills that grew into mountains; earlier I was hot, riding in a short sleeve shirt and my mesh jacket with the windshield down. That changed with the altitude, and I stopped to put on my liner. Hwy 16 runs with Crazy Woman Creek, a favorite fishing hole. I’ve never seen so many bugs! They sounded like rain splattering on the windshield.

I found a campground in this tiny village of Ten Sleep. Bikers have set up five other tents. Most everybody is heading east to the BMW Rally in Gillette. I met another woman rider, Linda, who travels alone a lot tho not this trip. She mapped out several favorite roads, so the buffet increases.

Day 6 July 14, 2008 still in Custer, Wy

Day 6

July 14, 2008 - Monday

Custer, SD

Clif and I got a slow start on a day with a short agenda and rode over to the Crazy Horse Memorial on Hwy385. As we parked, there were people staring at the mountain as though something was about to happen. I said, “They don’t often blast, but I wonder…” Then there was a loud boom with dust flying from Crazy Horse. I had to scramble for my camera, but the picture gives you some idea. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

The monument for Crazy Horse is an amazing tribute to the spirit and history of Native Americans; to what us white people did to them in the name of our greed, and to the tenacity of a dream. The sculpture dwarfs Mt. Rushmore – it’s 563 feet high; the face is 9 stories high. Korczak, the sculptor, worked alone for years, climbing stairs to play around with dynamite and art. His children continue his work; their grandchildren may not see its completion. It remains a family project financed by ordinary people; they refuse government aid.

After touring Crazy Horse, we had a great lunch and then our roads finally forked. Clif headed west and I stayed on in SD. I needed my SD driver’s license and the office wasn’t open on Mondays. Clif was going to visit his sister in Idaho and then ride to Glacier, Washington, and Oregon before returning home to California.

I called friends from Lakewood – Greg and Lynell – who have their motor home parked at a campground in Custer and rode over. I set my tent up beside them (There goes the neighborhood), and enjoyed our visit. There was another couple from Lakewood at the same park; Bob and Ede joined us for a cookout. They retired to the luxury of their motor homes, and I crawled back into my tent. Again, pixs on Picasa.
http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

Day 5 Custer, Wy

Custer, SD

Sunday, July 13, 2008

After breakfast at a dusty café that serves rib sticking food, we headed north out of Wyoming into South Dakota. A short day of only 180 miles with stops at Wind Cave NP, Custer SP, and Mt. Rushmore.

At Wind Cave we took a cave tour and then went above ground to the largest opening for this immense cave – a hole no bigger than a cowboy’s hat, one through which wind blows at 30 MPH - in or out, depending on the barometric pressure, breathing for the cave. Though there are 100 miles of known passages in Wind Cave, it remains only 5% explored after 100 years. More pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr.

From the National Park, we headed toward Custer’s State Park just in time for a bison reunion. We saw several large herds with lots of babies at various (safe) distances from the highway. The babies are a light brown color. A mile down the road traffic was stopped by a herd crossing and clogging up the road. I was wishing for a safe, metal vehicle to wrap myself in. With legs and bodies fully exposed, we stopped and waited for the buffalo (mamas, babies, teenagers…) to file amongst the traffic as they dawdled to the other side. We closed the gap between our bikes and the car in front of us so the bison wouldn’t elbow their way between us. There was a ranger herding the buffalo off the road using his pickup; I asked if we should wait or go on. He said, “You’ll probably be OK. But don’t poke around.” Probably be OK. We eased forward, stopping for various brown heads and butts. But the pictures turned out. http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

After the buffalo parade, we had to wade through a herd of wild burrows. Again, good pictures but I was less than enthusiastic with nothing between me and them.

And though I’d argue it yesterday, today’s roads were even better. There were several cork screw turns with decreasing radius turns so tight you’d be reading your own license plate. 270 degree turns, sliced by tunnels, with the road bucking up or dropping out from under you. When they post a curve here at 15 MPH, it’s best to believe them. To top of the ride, we had a late lunch of BBQ pulled buffalo.

The “purpose” of this ride was to see Mt. Rushmore. The ride was more fun.

And then we found a campground in Custer, SD – clean showers with plenty of hot water, plus wifi, electricity and water at each site. Did my first laundry, so now the clothes I stuff in my helmet bag as a pillow are clean again. Life is good.

Day 4 Wyoming

Day 4

Saturday July 12, 2008

Lusk, Wy (mid-central Wy on Hwy 85) 327 miles

A long day tho we didn’t cover so many miles .

Rode through the Rocky Mountain National Park. I don’t see how the Alps could be any better. Great twisties, amazing scenery. We stopped several times, and at the Alpine Center took a short hike up to about 34,000 feet to photograph some elk and experience the tundra wind whipping through my clothes. My feet weighed 150 pounds a piece, and when I tried to get my bike up off the kick stand it weighed in at just over 2,000. Amazing what a difference oxygen makes. Tree line ends at 11,500 ft, and up there at 12,005 feet there is a tundra similar to the Arctic, created by winds, severe cold and a lack of water. The elk seem to enjoy it, tho. There are pictures at Picasa.

We endured foot-dragging traffic through Estes Park and enjoyed winding out some miles on I-25 north. In Wy, turned east on Hwy 26 to finds miles and miles of beautiful open plains, with virtually nothing man-made. Ft. Laramie has a population of 243 – Lingle. is twice as big. Neither had a grocery store. There were two state parks, both had only pit toilets so we kept riding. My butt was beginning to hurt and I kept thinking, “We have to come to something – soon.” We topped yet another rise in the road, and sure enough, there were cazillions of miles of empty space stretched out before us. We spent the night in Lusk, Wy – small, quaint, dusty – those words are too big for Lusk. But it’s the biggest thing we’d ridden through for the preceeding 80+ miles.

Lusk had 2 campgrounds – the first had no tent sites. The second was a gravel lane behind a run-down looking restaurant. We knocked on the door of a clean double-wide, and the owner explained we could tent on the grass for $10 a piece; the bathrooms were clean and the showers were hot. Plus, the grass was soft – I’d been on gravel and rocks for 3 nights, so it was a welcomed change. All in all, it was one of my favorite campgrounds – quiet, clean, showers. A place I wouldn’t have stopped alone – but after this, I may next time. The pictures help tell the story. Lusk is another snippet of America – another reason to ride.

I’m pleased with the trip. I wondered how I would hold up to serial days of riding, bookended with nights on the ground. I’m having a great time on the bike, and am pleased with distances I’ve covered. At times, I hurt (butt, left knee, both hands…), but it walks off pretty quick and aleve gets the remainder. I’m sleeping well at night – my new sleeping pad is a pain in the butt to inflate but very comfortable -- and it doesn’t make my back hurt.

I have 42,000 miles on my bike, and of those probably 39,000 have been riding alone. This time riding with Clif has been interesting and good. I’ve stopped the bike in many a place I wouldn’t have attempted alone, ‘cause Clif doesn’t mind being my reverse. And it’s fun to have someone to point out things to – an elk here, a donkey there. His wife Carol is OK with his aged, weird riding partner.

Days two and three - Colorado

Days 2 and 3, July 10 and 11, 2008

Colorado

From Heron Lake SP in NM to Montrose, Co. – then Montrose to the Rocky Mountain National Park 581 miles

I left Heron Lake Thursday morning and headed north into Colorado – rode by the RV park in Pagoosa Springs where Sara and I stayed 8 years ago. A short ride west on Hwy 160 and I was in Durango. I ate a good Mexican lunch with sopapillas as I listened to the thunder roll. I came out to wet streets and rode through sporadic showers. Had to go very slow on roads that taunted me – faster, faster. There’s a lot of road construction – everywhere. And the wet, twisty Hwy 550 between Durango and Montrose was no exception. I got some good pictures during a particularly long construction delay. Molas Pass at 10,899 feet was beautiful. Again, see http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

I rode into Montrose a bit morose. Seems I played the game “what if” a bit too much and scared myself. Hadn’t done anything stupid, but my confidence was lagging. I was tired and my spirits were damp. And then I hit my first ticket shock for tent camping - $24 for the privilege of sleeping on their grass. But the campground had a great shower. After I was set up and fed, another bike pulled in. Clif is from California, rides a BMW RT1200, and had taken a month to ride around. Like me, tent camping.

Clif is a CPA with much experience and ambition – and this month he’s between two jobs. So, he borrowed the money he’d saved for his daughter’s college tuition and bought this touring bike (leaving his Harley at home with his wife Carol and son). Makes perfect sense to me. He assured me that when he gets home he’s going to sell the BMW to fast forward his tuition repayment. As we talked we realized we’d mapped out almost identical road trips. So Friday morning we left the campground together, heading west.

Now, picking up men while riding my bike is nothing new for me. My personal record to date is four at one time ;-) – a group from Texas I met at the Rio Grande Gorge just outside of Taos. We had a great, fast ride to Chama for lunch. Then there’s Dick – I picked him up at a construction delay on the Enchanted Circle… So I was comfortable with my new riding partner though I didn’t know how he was going to explain me to his wife. Part of the joy of our time together was knowing that either of us could just turn off at any moment – that the ride had no expectations and would last only as long as … it lasted.

After breakfast, our next stop was Black Canyon at Gunnison National Park. I knew of the town of Gunnison but knew nothing of the National Park. What a find! The pictures at http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr don’t do it justice but you’ll get an idea. The road down through Black Canyon to the river of its origin drops 1,800 feet in 3 miles, on a 16% grade. I’d never even heard of a 16% grade – but it’s a blast on the motorcycle.

Riding with Clif was good for me in many ways. He’s a very good rider, careful, and not obliged to always obey the speed limit. I realized how spookey, tentative, slow I’d gotten the day before. But with dry roads, lots of curve, and Clif to model, I was good to go.

We rode 350 miles on the best roads I’ve ever been on. Could the Alps be better?

Late in the afternoon, we rode two plus miles down a dirt road to a campground that was full – but incredibly beautiful and worth the ride. But then I dropped my bike in the gravel as I tried to turn around on the uneven ground. Ug. Maybe I need to buy Gypsy Rocket a new paint job.

I’m still sleeping well on my new pad - & that’s amazing. I’d gone through four others to find one that lets me wake up without hurting.

We came over Monarch Pass at 11,300 feet – good photo op. The motorcycle is doing great but is a little soggy on the high passes – an oxygen thing – so I need to drop down to 4^th gear to get it to jump. But in 4^th, it’s as quick as ever.

We spent Friday night on the western edge of the Rocky Mountain National Park. I’m enjoying getting to know something of Clif. I’m old enough and whatever else enough that he’s not uncomfortable (or interested) so I present no threat. We’re learning to be good friends. After we set up the tents, his wife called and he innocently said something like "We rode through..." Clif has been posting a blog since he left and had described/explained me there. But it seems Carol hadn't read it. So he quickly described me as "a petite grandmother of two" -- obviously Carol then asked my age. We were sitting together at the picnic table so I watched him squirm, "Well, I'm only guessing here, but I'd say 60...." and he looked at me for help. I laughed and held up one finger. Wish I'd been quick enough to hold up 9! But apparently a 61 yr old grandma of 2 was an acceptable riding partner.

So, tomorrow, Saturday, we’ll ride through the Rocky Mountain National Park.

Day one - New Mexico

July 9, 2008

Day one – fm Lakewood NM to Heron SP in north central NM, 352 miles.

On July 9, I put Grace in the kennel and left Lakewood, NM, on my motorcycle (Yamaha FJR 1300) with a faint plan that included spending 3 weeks riding and camping. Counting Grace’s kennel fee, I figure I can travel for $100 a day or less, so long as I sleep on the ground. I can’t afford for us both to stay in a motel ;-) I need to go to South Dakota to get a new driver’s license, so I’ll go there at some point. Why South Dakota? Emery, SD is the location of my mail forwarding service and the street address that gives me a legal residence. SD markets its residency, so this really is legal. Gypsies like me pay SD 3 percent sales tax when we buy vehicles, buy license plates but don’t hang around to use their services, and there is no state income tax – a win/win. Plus vehicle insurance rates are determined based on zip code—nobody lives in SD so the insurance is much less than in Florida.

I left Lakewood in a misty rain, and it continued to rain for three hours. At first, I ignored it – no big deal, light mist, it’ll quit and I’ll dry out fast in the desert. So I rode on, without rain gear. AFTER I was soaked to the skin, I decided that just maybe it wasn’t going to stop and I put on rain gear. When I pulled into Clines Corner, it was still raining. I took a two-hour lunch (the huevos rancheros were great), considered turning left for Utah, and reluctantly returned to the bike in full rain gear. I headed north, up through Santa Fe, and the rain stopped. I continued north through Espanola and Abiquiu and rode through those incredible red/yellow/brown cliffs that mesmerized Georgia O’Keefe. I’ve uploaded photos to Picasa – you can access them at http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr

Click on My Photos on the left - the pictures are in folders labeled by the day. Double click on the pix if the entire caption doesn't show. You don't have to sign in, or on to view the pixs.

I stopped the first night at Heron Lake State Park in north central NM, near Tierra Amarilla. I knocked on the rig of the camp host and asked about a tent site- the stranger explained where I could set up. I said, “I’m a full-time RV’er. My rig is north of Carlsbad.” He responded, “Oh, you’re Laura.” Turns out the camp hosts are Rusty and Mary Irons, close friends of Helen F., Lou, and Eleanor from Lakewood. So, my reputation precedes me. What a small, crazy, friendly world.

At dark the coyotes yelped. I had to get up to pee two times during the night, under the stars, in the dust ‘cause the bath house was a long way and I had no neighbors. I don’t remember a clearer, brighter blanket of heaven. Early Thursday morning, wild geese honked as they flew, announcing my place in this amazing Universe.

I have a muscle in my shoulder that’s tight, a tweak in my right low back, and a smile in my heart. The sun has begun to lift above the mountains; it’s chilly. Long pants, long sleeve t-shirt, fleece jacket, and my windbreaker. Another RV’er from Lakewood, John White is also in the park. He’s going to fix me breakfast - coffee, eggs, and bacon.

Then I’m heading north.

Day 8 from Ten Sleep Wy to Dubois, Wy

Day 8

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

From Ten Sleep, Wy to Dubois, Wy 192 miles

Another short day – seems easy to “justify” them now. I had a slow, late breakfast today with Linda and Craig, the two bikers heading to the BMW rally in Gillette. Linda is a very accomplished rider and freely shared tips. She often tours alone – not many of us out here. She took this picture of me putting my gear together.

The ride today followed the Big Horn River and then Wind River – at times through dry, rolling hills, then through red canyons. Pictures are on Picasa.

http://picasaweb.google.com/gypsyjudgefjr go to my photos on the left

I stopped about 50 miles from Ten Sleep at Thermopolis, the world’s largest mineral hot spring. It’s in a state park and is free, a condition imposed by the Indians just before they were forced to give up the land. There is the typical glut of commercial establishments crowding around the small building where I changed into my bathing suit. After floating in mineral waters heated to 104 and above by Mother Nature, I got back on the bike, heading south on hwy 20 and then west on 26.

Dubois is a small cowboy town, capitalizing on the views and proximity to the Grand Tetons. There are a couple of pictures of the area in the Dubois folder on Picasa.