We didn't make it.
Breakfast at the 4 Star Diner was good and greasy, as it should be. We left just after 9:30 am towards heavy overcast skies. A few hours later the skies cleared as huge turbines of wind farms stretch into the sky along the highway somewhere in Oklahoma. The blades spin slowly on standards towering in the sky. I just don't get what the big deal is about those wind turbines those folks in Craven County want to install on their own property. I know they are purely machines for generating electricity, but they seem majestic in a way.Moe lost a screw on his fairing and we stopped at the Oklahoma City Harley Davidson. Greg had suggested I pick up a Throttle Rocker to ease the stress on my throttle arm, and we nearly forgot to ask. Kevin, the parts guy at the Harley shop offered me a hearty handshake and big toothless grin when Greg told him I was riding my Vespa across the country. At the end of the day, I guess two wheels are two wheels, no matter how small.
Due to my newly acquired lack of finesse with my new Throttle Rocker and the wicked head and cross winds, my mileage went down the tubes. I motioned to Moe that I needed to stop for gas soon, but I ran out about three miles from McLean, TX. Greg didn't realize I had spare fuel with me and sped off the the next exit. The liter and half of fuel I carry didn't even get me one bar on the gauge, but it got me to the next exit where there was a Shell station on Route 66. Someone always runs out of gas on these adventures. I'm happy to do my part for a successful adventure.
After passing what must have been 5000 head of cattle in fenced paddocks along the east bound lanes, I spotted something resembling sculptures sticking up the field. Several cars were parked and people were walking towards the objects. I couldn't stop, and couldn't really figure out what it was, but it must have been interesting enough for people to stop on the shoulder of the interstate and stomp across a ranch to see what ever it was. Only later did Greg clue me in: It was Cadillac Ranch. A series of Cadillacs, buried tail fins up in the Texas dirt.
Out in the middle of nowhere, near Groom, Texas, there's this humongus cross and Jesus gift shop. There's really nothing else around. It's big. I couldn't tell if this homage was associated with a particular denomination. The cross acts sort of like a sundial surrounding 12 bronze statues of Jesus in his final days. Jesus in a fountain welcomes you to the worship center and gift shop. The sheer enormity of scale is a bit overwhelming. But then again, everything is Texas is big.We watched the sun set as we crossed into New Mexico. I had most of Oklahoma and all of Texas splattered on my face shield. We found a Quality Inn in Tucumcari just off the highway, with a bar and grill. Unfortunately they bar closed at 9:00pm. I gambled the Ostrich Diane, with a burgundy mushroom sauce. I don't think I've ever eaten ostrich before. It didn't taste at all like chicken.
The sheer numbers dead armadillos along the side of the road might as well be mile markers.
You know, it's amazing to me this satellite guided gizmo, my Garmin GPS, has an accuracy of nine feet as measured from the outer atmosphere, yet can't automatically change the clock when I pass into a different time zone. It's still an hour off, now maybe two.
Today I listened to tunes starting with 'I' to 'M'
Pix today:
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