Raven's Roads
Living an interesting life: the travels and musings
of motorcycling author Linda R. Moore

Apr 10, 2005

The last few days - the journey to Winslow

It has occurred to me that I didn’t really write up what I’ve been doing since I arrived.

So, here’s the narrative, for your enjoyment.

On Friday morning, I am pretty sure I saw Mr. Gulet (Goulet?) who played Sir Lancelot in “Camelot”. Someone with better access to the web than me or better knowledge can fill me in. The only reason I know is that I heard the site manager mention that he was coming in. I was dead impressed that someone famous was coming camping, and there was no way on earth that I would approach him and ask for an autograph under those circumstances.

Hey, I might be famous myself one day. ;-)

I got my stuff on the bike moderately easily, handed in my key, accepted a warning about the wind, handed over a Raven’s Roads card (actually the link scribbled on the back of a Markeroni one) and minced my way out of the gravelly car park to the gas station, where I let five pounds of air out of my tyres by misusing the air machine.

I sometimes wonder what I am doing out here. ;-)

Luckily, a couple of bikers on a nice retro-looking BMW showed up and I got help. They were going west and I was going east. To the sound of one of my favourite tracks on the 2nd Blue Man Group album “If I tell you I’m strong, will you play along…” the rider got me sorted out.

Ba-dap-ba-ba, bad-ap-pap-ba…

If I haven’t described the experience of motorycle camping yet and you want to know, let me know.

I rode. Up to Flagstaff is was wonderful. The scenery was marvellous, with the San Franciscan mountains looming large and snowy. There was snow by the roadside and it got cold, so I pulled in at Flagstaff to add extra layers. I then couldn’t get my backpack on, so I got some help with that from the senior cleaning up cars at the gas station. One cookie and some postcards later, I set out and that’s where I got into trouble.

Beyond Flagstaff you enter the Painted Desert, and maybe someone can fill me in on why it’s called that, because it was the ugliest, most monochrome stretch of land I’ve come across to date. It was also really windy - I can’t tell you how much, other than “way too much”. The date was April 8th so if you want to look it up for me, be my guest. It’s the gusts that really caused me hassle, though.

The *only* part I enjoyed of those next forty or so miles was the tumble weed that I saw bouncing around in the midsection of the freeway…I had never seen one, but I always thought they were kinda cute. My hubby says they chase you though, so I dunno. ;-) This one was benign. ;-)

I got scared very fast, and hung on while the mile markers towards Winslow shrank (ten miles to go, five miles to go)…I came off at the first intersection where there was gas. I got some local advice, was told it was likely to get worse going east, and decided to call it quits and stay alive. This might count as the worst weather I’ve encountered, even worse than rain and fog.

I got a motel coupon paper, and checked into the first motel that I liked the look of. None of them were advertising wireless, which surprised me, as it’s a large chain among several large chains.