Good people in the Bad-lands

This blog is a bit late but it's been a big day. I've traversed the Texas Panhandle (300miles with a 40mph crosswind) in one chicken-dive and am again happily fed and watered in Clayton New Mexico. Now. don't be upset if you don't know where that is. Neither did I.

There is a volcano nearby which has a road right up to the top. I'm goin' to get me a look tomorrow.

Today was pretty huge for me. I'm going to be real sore tomorrow, uh huh, because of that big ol' crosswind. I had to dive towards trucks as they passed to keep myself on the straight and narrow. The problem with being on the leeward side of trucks, for those not experienced with motorcycle travel, is that you get an almighty blast as they go by. It can be frightening for the meek, but a source of great strength to the valiant. I was both of those today.

I stopped in at Elk (yes, 'Elk') in Oklahoma to see the Route 66 museum. It was spread over an acre and ten or more buildings. The woman who took my fistful of dollars (see picture) was dead and had been for a long time I think. I had four interactions with her and none revealed the likelihood of a heartbeat.

I've got a few cutesy pictures to put up, so that's what I'll do.

I heard the phrase "gosh-darned" used in a sentence this morning ("he cheated the system so gosh-darned bad"). As well as the word "coon". The diner, attached to the motel, had an enclave of good-old-boys breakfasting and shootin'-the-breeze. Some appeared in denim bib and brace and none seemed like they needed their trajectories altered by a conversation with me.

I've got to say that one thing I really enjoy here is interacting with Americans and avoiding the subject of my accent. I love the look on their faces as I walk away. Petty, I know.

Texas is covered with energy infrastructure. I am riding amongst the stuff on the ground that I wondered at when over-flying it on the way to Florida. I'll post a picture or two to demonstrate. Crop circles (irrigation sweeps), weird housing developments (oil pump networks) and badlands.
The number of wind-farms is staggering (because of the strong winds), and the stuff they plant in the circles is probably for ethanol as well.

I was glad to get through Texas again. I smelt my father's BO again and the gas from the wells is sometimes oppressive. The cattle feed-lots were horrible. Fifty acres of cattle in conditions that would only suit pigs. It took a long time to ride past the stench.

I met a good guy in Pampa (Woody Guthrie had a hard time in Pampa, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woody_Guthrie) .

The camel was playing up, back-firing at idle, and Ironrider Jimmy from Pampa, who runs a Harley shop, helped me trace the problem, modify a C-spanner to fit and then refused my $20 bill twice. I'm putting his picture up because he was a real gentleman. I cannot afford to have the camel fall ill this far into the badlands.

His mum was there too and she was a gem. She's where he gets it from.

One of the funny things today, as I powered through great difficulties, was the tumbleweed situation. (Apparently these things are an introduced species.) They were hurtling across the road every few hundred yards and clumps of them, bigger than me and the camel combined, were often on a collision course. This, combined with huge amounts of dust thrown up from road-works and ploughing (in a windstorm FFS), made for a challenging 70 mph experience. Did I mention the trucks? Uh huh.

I am drinking Bud again. It's worth asking at the liquorr-storre as to the percentage of alcohol present in the ale which you might be purloining. Because In Oklahoma it will 3.2% and in New Mexico and Texas it will be double that. Hmm, you say, nodding.

Well, that's it. There are real limits to attention spans.

You out there Scott?