Williams, AZ – Day Three

There’s not a lot to tell about the first three days. We left Wednesday at about 1:00 and rode to Clarendon, TX, where we spent the night. I’d been awake most of the night worrying about everything about this trip, so it was a long several hours. But we made it and slept well and were up and ready to leave again by about 7 the next morning, after some very nice conversations with some seemingly nice people during breakfast at the hotel.

 
Yesterday, we rode to Albuquerque. We were having trouble with our communications system. I could hear Leon perfectly every time he said anything, but he said I sounded like the teacher from Peanuts every time I talked. I did accuse him of just saying that to get me to shut up, but he assured me that wasn’t the case. But we stopped at Cycle Gear in Albuquerque and the guy was really helpful and actually replaced my microphone at no charge. It didn’t help, but the guy was great. We had dinner at El Patio, an old house that’s been converted into one of the best Southwestern style restaurants I’ve eaten at in a long time. They had a guitarist, who was fantastic. It was a good place for dinner.

 
We got up and left Albuquerque by around 7:20. We decided to stop at Grand Canyon Harley-Davidson to see if they had a different microphone we cold try. They didn’t but it was fun to stop there anyway. Leon saw a bike he wanted to buy, so we left before he could do anything stupid.

 

 

 
We got to Williams around 2:30, checked into our hotel, and then walked up and down main street for a while. We had a nice dinner at a steak house, where Leon left his favorite Harley-Davidson cap, a gift from our dear friends Will and Lisa. We have since called the hotel, and the very nice woman there took our information, waited for the steak house to open, and called them to see if they’d found it. They had, and it’s now on its way to our house. We’re grateful to Amberlee at the Rodeway Inn in Williams!

 
One of my favorite things about traveling is meeting people from all over the place. Today we were checking out the touristy gift shops here in Williams, which I swear must be the town they based the movie Cars on – one long main street with old style service stations made into museums, diner style restaurants, Mother Road stuff everywhere, and I even thought I saw Mater hiding behind a building at the edge of town. Anyway, we stopped in a leather shop where a guy was trying on cowboy boots. We struck up a conversation with his friend and learned that they are from Germany, and they’ve come to America to ride the old Route 66. One of them rented a Harley-Davidson and the other an Indian, so Leon asked him which he liked better. They guy said he didn’t know, as he had only ridden the Harley. Then he added, “But I think they’re both good. Just as long as we aren’t riding some lousy BMW, I’m happy.”

 

I thought that was funny, so I said, “Isn’t that kind of sacreligious of you, being from Germany and all?” He laughed and said he just really didn’t like BMW motorcycles. Fair enough. I don’t really like most American cars, so I don’t know why it surprised me for him to say that. But I love being able to meet people from across the world and exchange likes and dislikes, joke with them, and take an interest in them, even while barely able to understand each other. It reminds me that people are just people, no matter how different they might appear.

 
I think traveling brings out the best in most people. Of course, we’re all on vacation when we’re traveling, so we’re in a good mood. And we’re seeing new things and having rich experiences, so there’s no reason to be grumpy about little things that don’t matter, like traffic and the price of gas and having forgotten to buy laundry soap when you were JUST at the store.

 
Maybe, too, there’s something else at work. Maybe somehow being away from the familiarities of home and structure reminds us that our lives are like traveling. I don’t mean the packing and loading the car (or the Harley) and heading out somewhere just to see what’s out there. Except that I do. From the time we’re born until the day we die, we’re on a trip. Every day, we pack what we have – our motivations, our talents, our ideas – and we go and do our thing, whatever that thing might be. We’re all on that Mother Road; we just don’t realize it most of the time.

 
Yesterday at our hotel, we met a guy and his wife while eating breakfast. We talked for a while, and he told us he had been in the mountains in Colorado recently and came upon a kid sitting on the side of the road with his bicycle on the ground. The guy pulled over and asked the kid if he was ok, and the kid said, “No, man, I’m just spent.” This kid had just graduated from college on the East Coast somewhere and had always wanted to ride his bike across the country, so he just packed his stuff and went. He was headed for Seattle and got bogged down in the mountains. He told the guy he needed to get somewhere and rest up before he could go any further, so the guy loaded the bike up in his truck and gave the kid a ride to a hotel.

 

Tomorrow we’re headed to Death Valley National Park. It’s supposed to be 113 degrees around the time we should get there. I hope they have a good swimming pool.

 

Live hard and ride easy, friends.