Cadillac Ranch
It all seemed a bit pointless after Sturgis; we rolled into Denver on 85, Greg pointed to I-70, which he would be taking to New Mexico, I pulled up alongside and without ceremony and with clenched fists touching, we went our separate ways. Denver turned out to be OK, I walked around the corner and found Stoneys Bar and Grill, sat at the Bar and immediately got talking to Gill, a sports writer and commentator for a local radio station, “this your local Gill?” “One of them” he said “I have a few, I get free food and drink, I’m a bit of a local celebrity”! I told him my story and like most, he thought it was cool but he was on such a good wicket, he didn’t feel the need to say, Oh I wish I could do that! Instead he called out to the barman, “give this young man a drink and put it on my tab” (free drinks all round). He finished his burger and chips and went off to review a movie…Another one of his roles… I looked around the bar and that was when I met the lovely Lidia and Scottie, not quite so lovely but a nice fella anyway, “So where you going next” asks Lidia “don’t know? I was thinking maybe New Orleans but not sure which route to take” “Ah well, you should go south to San Antonio via Amarillo, then east to New Orleans, I will print out a map tomorrow and bring it in tomorrow night.” Fantastic! I was all set for the next leg of the journey. The journey was taking control now; mostly I have known where I was going, what I was doing, I was in control, but like living with a woman, the moment you think you’re in control, the game changes and you realize you’re not!
Back at the hostel I met Juan and Diane, a couple of sociology lecturers from Chicago, in town for a conference, who invited me to go to a baseball game, not having been to a baseball game I accepted, I left after about an hour, I’d seen enough, baseball isn’t for me. I picked up my Insurance and headed south, through New Mexico and into Texas, spent the night on Route 66 just west of Amarillo and in the morning stopped in at the Cadillac Ranch to visit a bunch of Cadillac’s stuck in the ground with graffiti as thick as elephant skin. Through Amarillo and on to San Antonio to visit the Alamo, where Davy Crocket, Jim Bowie and a handful of Texans met their maker, when Texas was part of Mexico. That night I pulled into a small town motel and sampled a bit of good old southern hospitality. On arrival, a couple of good o’l boys were well into the carton and invited me over, they were laying a pipeline close by, for the oil I’d seen being pumped out of the ground, by the insect like pumps I’ve been seeing all over the place, after a bit of bullshitting and drinking, we jumped into the V8 350 Ford and drove over the road about 20 metres away, to the drive in burger joint picked up some fat which they insisted they pay for, drove the 20 metres back and after dishing up my share, they disappeared into their own rooms, “Ya’ll take care now!” They had a 5am start the next day, I never saw them again. I was on the road to Houston, the sky was looking black up ahead so I stopped to put on the wet weather gear, I needn’t have bothered, the storm hit. I’ll ride through it soon, ten miles, I’ll ride through it soon, 20 miles, I’ll ride through it soon, 30 – 40 -50 miles. Just about now, I began to question my sanity, the wet weather gear wasn’t made for this, I was wet through, puddles in my boots, I couldn’t see, the trucks were flying passed throwing up spray, I’ll ride through it soon. After 70 miles Houston was all around me, although I couldn’t see much of it, I was going to go straight through when I set out this morning but I was never going to dry out, even if I rode through it soon. I pulled off the I-40 into the city, found a place to stay and dry out. After about an hour the sun came out, the following day when I got to New Orleans, 200 miles down the road, I discovered that it had rained all day, I was following the storm, so I would never have ridden through it.
I am….THE LONESOME TRAVELLER….travelling east….BE HAPPY!