Day 4 – The people we meet on the ride

Today was a day of meeting people.  I rode 325 miles from Eagle Nest through Taos then on to Santa Fe before heading south to Alamogordo. The ride was great but it all started with people.

When I’m out on the road I look for unusual places to eat. I’ll hit the chains as a last resort but if I have the opportunity I go for something less reliable and make it an adventure. I had a few choices for breakfast in Eagle Nest this morning. One was a big box affair that had a large sign emblazoned with the words “Country Kitchen.” There were several cars parked in front of the establishment and most were rentals. Across the street was a little blue building, maybe thirty feet by forty. It was constructed of cinder block. At some point many years ago it had been painted a light blue. Now it was just tired. A small sign hung above the door – “D&D Cafe.” There were three pickup trucks parked outside and it had been years since any of them had been new on the showroom floor. I walked in and was greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon on the griddle. Things were looking up.

The “D&D” had only five tables in the whole place. The first table by the entrance was the “Liars Table” and it was occupied by the usual gathering of old men who gather in places like this every morning to share fellowship and generally let the world know they are not dead yet. I get that sort of thing now after my cancer journey.  Anyway, one table was vacant at the back so I walked over and sat down. The old guys had the first two tables, then a loner was in the third and finally a couple was in the fourth. The old guys had it together in a cantankerous sort of way. Tables three and four were not in our solar system. Here is a little of what I heard while I was having my coffee:
The lady at table four talking to her male companion – “Aw Sam ain’t gonna be able to knock him down. He’s got that T plus love.” I’ll let you know when I figure out what “T plus love” is.
The lead old guy at table one explaining to his crowd how his brother who couldn’t serve in the Korean war because he “knocked up” his wife, is doing now health wise. He is doing better now that “they have changed his medication.”
Back to the lady at table four “I think my neighbor thinks he’s a dog. He kind of looks like one the way he lays down in the yard.”
Back to the old guys at table one who have pretty much explained to the world how to mow a yard. Then the head old guy yells at the cook, “I’d like my breakfast before dinner tonight!” to which the cook told him to shut up or he would get his breakfast on a stick.
Then the guy at table three who has been smiling at everyone and talking to the wall and the baseball card collection that is framed and hung on the wall facing his table. He gets ready to leave and walks over to me and tells me he is a diamond cutter who works at a secret diamond cutting location on his uncle’s ranch outside of Eagle Nest. He says it’s not his real job but he’ll keep doing it for the next five years “until the investigation is over and things die down.” Says he was a pilot about forty years ago and has been to the airport to rent a plane and is sure it “will all come back to him as soon as he is in the air.”
Back to table one, the head old guy yelling at the cook again who still hasn’t fixed his breakfast “Well, if you can’t cook some coffee would be nice.”
And all of this before I had ridden one mile.
This is what makes solo travel so very special. Out on the road, unencumbered by the proprieties of companionship a lone rider is free to embrace the world on it’s terms. People see us and ask us questions and on some very rare occasions like this morning at the D&D we are welcomed into the ordinary lives of folks we will never see again.  That one hour at the D&D made the entire trip for me. Fortunately the ride continues.

I left the D&D wondering why I had ordered the giant double fiery green chili breakfast burrito along with four cups of coffee. Blame it on the entertainment. After a short walk back to the motel I loaded the bike and hit the ignition. That’s when the little Bavarian engineers interfered with my trip. The day before it had been the check oil light and the engine temperature warning. This morning the ASC and the ABS alerts were blinking at me. I pulled out the manual and cleared the ASC but the ABS would not resolve. There was nothing for it but to go to the BMW dealer in Santa Fe. I planned a route through half of the enchanted circle of the Taos ride and went at it. If the ABS wasn’t working then it didn’t matter because the GS took the countless curves and turns with no problem. Fortunately the little BMW GPS has all BMW dealers addresses in America preloaded in the computer. With a punch of a button I was off to the dealership.

The Santa Fe dealer shares space with the BMW automobile dealer which translates into some really nice real estate. A young man named Tao greeted my at the door. I explained my problem with the fault indicators. He immediately took the GS back to the technician who ran a diagnostic on the bike. In short order he told me there was nothing wrong with it. It’s just those German computers. He said the BMW computers are very sensitive. Well I’m sensitive too but I didn’t say anything. It does occur to me that BMW needs to get their obsessive German engineers to tone it down a little on the sensitivity of their stuff. I’m all for knowing what wizards those guys are but I really didn’t relish driving through downtown Santa Fe on a Saturday when everybody and their mother was trying to get out of town. Still, it must be noted how very professional and prompt the Santa Fe dealer’s staff was to me. While the bike was being checked out Tao gave me a tour of the facility and showed me the new bikes as well as a customized Iron Butt GS that looked more complicated than a spaceship. All in all I had a good time there.

I decided to head south to Alamogordo. Now, you won’t find that town on any list of great rides. Alamogordo matters to me because that is where USAF 1st Lieutenant Elliott House will be spending the next three years of his life defending his country. Lt. House is my son and I decided to exercise the “Focker Prerogative” and go check things out first hand to make sure the Air Force would meet my expectations.

The ride was unremarkable until I was clear of Albuquerque. I took a few side roads through Indian reservations but it was I-25 until highway 380 which was stunning in it’s desert beauty. The accompanying photos provide just a glimpse of the scenery. As I was riding along 380 I realized there were no buildings of any kind. Nothing. Not one. Hadn’t been for miles. It occurred to me someone could make a killing developing this beautiful place. According to my GPS there were plenty of streets in this area and all of them had the same initials followed by different numbers – “wsmr”. Hmm and then I saw the big sign. Wait for it. “White Sands Missile Range.” I was riding through the place where our government teaches it’s aspiring missile shooters how to shoot missiles and bombs and assorted instruments of destruction. The German Luftwaffe is also based nearby learning how to fly and shoot stuff from the platform of our new Raptor fighter jets. So, basically I was driving through a target. Comforting.

I’m going to hang around Alamogordo for a few days and learn some more about the place while taking a day ride tomorrow. Every day has been a blast. It’s the unexpected that make it so much fun. I think life is like that too. We can all get by doing the predictable and the very planned out but it’s how we adapt and manage the unforeseen and difficult that define who we are in the end.

I’m looking forward to another interesting breakfast tomorrow.
Be safe,
Brian