Monticello was a bit chilly as I was arriving and I pleased to be off the bike. I had found a cute old strip motel on the web and made a reservation. I checked in with a grin when asked if I had a reservation, I replied, ìyep, only I’m a day early.î She chucked and cancelled the following day and got me snugged into a very cute room. There was three other bikes parked in the motel lot and two were Harleys. Yep, I was definitely in Harley country since that was mostly what I had seen all day.

The following morning, I was packing my bike, in the fog of my own breath. I checked the web weather only to discover that I probably shouldn’t have. It was 30 degrees. I waited for a civil 34 before leaving and was fortunate to have my hearted gear and powerlet plugs. My pal Sarah had knitted me a purple cashmere balaclava which made a world of difference on my chilled face. When I got on the road, I must have been quite the sight to behold as everyone knows how easy it is to put on a quick ten lbs with motorcycle gear, but hey my ride through the mountains was comfortable and the fall color mesmerizing. The day was thoroughly enjoyable and upon entering Chama, I was able not only to shed some layers, but to pack up my Kilmanjaro jacket and wear my mesh. Yep, late fall and the sun wasn’t done yet!

The passes in Colorado were amazing painted with glowing fall colors.

Descending south of Chama, I discovered an artist working in a sublime area.

Santa Fe was not quite what I expected. It was crowded brimming with traffic and tourists. The old downtown looked cute, but I wanted to get checked into my hotel, knowing I had some time afterwards to explore. Of course I wasn’t planning on the motel drive of seemingly innocuous gravel until I headed to my room to discover at least 3 inches of spine chilling rolling and shifting! I dropped my puc to the ground and slowly lowered the Bandit onto the puc. Bandito was really leaning over and there was just no way I was going to renegotiate a parking attempt. Where ever I was heading, would be on foot.

Touring the grounds and nearby Jackalope Gifts, was entertaining. The weather perfect, the tourists in full regalia and the objects’dart irreverent. I watched a man roast chilis in a wire cage and man did those smell excellent! Hungry, I had a cart mexican meal of Mole with two women traveling to the ìcity of angelsî. The night snuck in quietly and I routed my gps for Amarillo, through Las Vegas and some back roads, expecting a stimulating journey.

The lovely gravel drive at the Silver Saddle Motel in Santa Fe.

The Jackalope outdoor sculpture garden, with what could only be called the big amethyst “V”.

This guy was roasting Chilis.

Colors abounded!

I rose early to quite the chilly temperatures, packed the bike and awaited the sun. I also had to have help to turn my bike around in the deep gravel. Once off, I quite enjoyed the coolness and the sights but time had escaped and it was nearly 10:30am. Leaving Santa Fe was no loss, I did see a bit of the downtown on my way out and realized all the hype was regarding that very area, and rightly so. It was lovely. I was off to Las Vegas, NM and beyond.

Since leaving late, I limited myself to one route that was a bit more direct but still several miles of back country. I was looking forward to seeing Don, Dave and Betty, my friends in Amarillo, but wanted to treat myself to one of the routes Astir mentioned when we talked. When I arrived at Tucumcari, I called Don and he suggested we meet in Adrian. He told me to on I40 and get off in Adrian and stop at the Midpoint Cafe where I’d find a black Harley waiting. Well, I quickly discovered four of them and none of them Don. I must have arrived first and was given a big Texas welcome, with black Harleys on parade!

Don Arrived.

Had to have a photo at Midpoint!

I chatted with a bicyclist riding a motorized machine from Fargo, North Dakota to Albuquerque and back, while waiting for Don. He told me top speed was 40mph. I thought that there was no way he could ride on the freeway, but I was told that if there is NO frontage road, he too can ride on the fog line. Wow…I just can’t imagine the desire to do so. But then I can’t imagine riding a motorized bicycle, period!

Don and I got on the road to Dave and Betty’s home in Timbercreek skirting large farms of corn and other assorted plants. I watched a huge semi not bother to stop at the road and pull in front of the two of us, like we were bugs on his windshield. I considered the next one, more carefully, but he actually stopped. Other than two rabid dogs running for all it was worth to catch us, the ride was uneventful. Winding through Timbercreek, we found Dave and Betty awaiting us.

Tex on the edge of Canyon, TX

Don Betty and Dave in the driveway of Dave and Betty’s lovely home.

Day three approximately 305 miles.