Highway 6 2021

Day 11

July 1

  SweetTreat is ready to start the long ride home - almost 2,000 miles and most all of it on I40 over three days of traveling.  
The start of the 'mother' road that pretty much obliterated Route 66 runs within 3 miles of the Holler, closer than that as the crow flies. I put on some good tunes, kick out the highway pegs, set the cruise control and get on with it.  
  There are worse things than sitting in a comfortable seat and watching the trains, the planes, the trucks and the cars go by. I have worked a good deal over the years making my ST1100s very comfortable on the road. I believe that having the right tools for the job make the job a lot easier to do.  
  This part of I40 takes me through some pretty barren and desolate areas. I am keeping an extra watchful eye on the fuel gauge as I really don't want any more 'drama' in that arena on the way home.  
  The heat is rising and you can see it as a haze up ahead but as long as I can keep rolling in the wind it's not too bad.  
  I figure breakfast will be somewhere along the way, so when I see a Pilot with an inside Subway, I take advantage of it. A Subway breakfast sandwich ain't bad and at least there's a place to sit down in the cool air.  
  Once I consume my vittles and get back on the road, I encounter what I call an 'elephant dance' between two semis. One tries to pass the other but does not have enough get up and go to do it quickly. I've seen this sort of thing go on for miles and miles when the truck to be passed refuses to back off any and let the passing truck on over.  
  I remember this interesting pipeline bridge near the border with its suspension like framework from my many other rides this way.  
  Soon I leave the sunny dry land of California for the sunny dry land of Arizona.  
  I pass this strange looking abode on a post and wonder if it is a house, a business, a tourist attraction - or maybe all three. It certainly would be a tough place for someone to try to corner you in.  

As I ride, I am constantly observing stuff around me. From the back of a Kingman Septic pumping truck I admire their wisdom which states -

"This truck is loaded with political promises."

Sadly, there is more truth to that statement than most folks want to admit. As far as I know, James K. Polk was the last US president to keep all of his campaign promises. He left office after one term back in 1849. He also happened to be from the area I grew up in and had a law office on my hometown square.

  As I head east, the brown gradually begins to be replaced by the green. I am just not a fancier of desert landscaping by any means.  
  I don't know what the significance of all of this is but I do find it visually interesting to say the least.  
  Further along and off to my left I see what I guess to be as a VOR (
VHF Omnidirectional Radio Range). The reason I know that is that I took ground school for my pilot's license when I was in the USMC. But it came down to getting my pilot's license or buying a new motorcycle and we know how that came out. I still have my old E6B laying around the house somewhere, probably right next to my K&E slide rule and log book.
  I am always fascinated by the length of the trains out here and this one is even a 'double' stacker.  
  It's funny to me how the cloud creates a shadow just over that one mountain top. With the current heat, I could use a little bit of that shadow myself.  
  Up ahead, though the sky is dark, I see a faint rainbow that reminds me of God's promises. And so it is with our lives - often it looks pretty dark up ahead but if we bother to look closely, somewhere in the darkness there will be a lovely rainbow.  
  But as often the case in the realities of slab travel, all things grind to a complete halt. When I finally get through it, I see no wreck and no construction - which makes no sense. That all makes the message on this trailer pretty ironic to me.  
  Further along I am blessed to see another lovely rainbow and so far no rain.  
  It looks like it has really been raining here when I hit this construction zone, but fortunately for me it has already passed through. Most times in life, timing is the most important factor though we seldom have control of it.  
  I spy butte or a mesa off to my right, so based on what I know, I'll call it a mesa. I have learned that the only difference between the two is the matter of size and proportions. A butte is generally taller than it is wide, while a mesa is a much larger and slightly less elevated.  
  As I arrive at my motel for the evening in Albuquerque, I am mighty glad to get here after the heat of the day.  
There's an interesting cafe right across the street, so at least supper won't be a long walk.  
  The Owl Cafe had it's origins back in the 1930s and this incarnation opened up in 1986. They still have the jukebox selectors at many of their comfortable booths.  
The food is great and the service is even better. They treat you like an old friend instead of an interruption to their day.  
  And what would a good meal be without a little sweetening of the chocolate sort to help pack it all down?  
  Thankfully it is a short walk back to my room as I am packing a little more weight back than I brought across. The efforts of the last eleven days on the road all seem to come crashing down on me and I collapse into bed like a comatose heap of rubble.