Start 8:00 AM - Stop 6:00 PM

Distance - 488 miles

After a lousy night of sleep, worrying too much about my fog lights we had breakfast in Salida and headed toward Pueblo, CA. Originally we had intended to see the Royal Gorge Bridge, but it had turned into quite the tourist trap with too high a fee for just a short detour. So we chose to ride along the river adjacent to Hwy 50. I decided to really slow it down this morning to relax and enjoy the scenery. There were several white water raft tours making their way along the river. As fun as the rafting looked, we were having more fun on our bike.

We stopped for fuel in Pueblo around 10:00 AM and already the temperature was climbing into the 90's. I noticed that suddenly my fog lights were working! Very kewl! Apparently what ever had gone wrong had corrected itself? Yeah, right. About 20 minutes later we were behind a van and I noticed in the reflection off its back end that the lights were out again. Well, at least it couldn't be anything major.... I hoped. So we proceeded down I-25 for 27 miles and then headed toward Taos on Hwy 159. By the time we hit the high desert west of Taos we were back into our triple digit temps again. We had grown quite accustomed to the heat. When we stopped for gas once again a lot of folks asked us how we could stand wearing jackets and black pants. It gets old explaining the mesh technology and how it keeps us cool, so we just smiled a lot and agreed.

The ride into Taos was our kind of scenery with lots of desert containing a beauty that few can understand. We saw lots of signs pointing to ski resorts and such but it was obvious that there was not any snow within a hundred miles. Taos itself is a touristy town that caters to the shoppers in the summer and the skiing fanatics in the winter. It is quite a tourist trap with lots of little shops but we weren't in the mood for shopping. So we pulled into a McDonalds just to get off the bike for a bit and have something cold to drink. We then mounted back up and tried to wind our way back east.

The GPS route I had programmed in was taking us in circles around and around the small little town. It turned out that it was indeed telling me where to turn correctly but I was trusting my incorrect instincts and not the GPS. Technology eventually won out, and after circling through the town three or four times we headed east toward I-15 again. The road out of Taos was much more scenic and enjoyable than the ride in. After about 20 miles of semi-technical riding (and lots of traffic) on Hwy 64 we wound our way through Palo Flechado Pass and into Cimarron Canyon State Park. We passed a few crotch rockets coming the other direction but for the most part the only company we had we some eagles and hawks playing in the wind currents. The ride through the canyon was scenic, but my mind was still on the malfunctioning fog lights. Its weird how things like that can take control of what should normally be a relaxing and scenic ride. But I'll never forget how surprising the landscape and vegetation is around this part of New Mexico. I was expecting desert and instead felt like I was in North California.

We continued on past the town of Cimarron and made our way out to I-15. Originally we had scheduled our route to continue on through Northern New Mexico and the top of the Texas Panhandle but we were beginning to get bored with the flat and easy plains that had become our environment. Couple the relative boredom with my angst over the fog lights and you can correctly surmise we were not particularly thrilled with this section of our ride. We got to the freeway and stopped to talk it out. I suggested we re-program the GPS to find us the fastest possible route to Grapevine and my wife more than readily agreed. We entered the freeway, and set our sites on making our way to I-40. Its amazing how the decision and the ensuing speed lifted our spirits again.

After about 15 minutes on I-15 the strangest occurrence of our trip happened. I had the cruise control set at 75 mph and we were in the right lane with very light traffic. I saw a vehicle approaching from the rear at a good clip but figured every thing was normal, it was just some good old boys in a pickup making their way south. They passed us on the left, pulled over in front of us, slowed down and paced in front of us for a few minutes. Then as if they had counted down, the driver and the passenger simultaneous through beer cans about half full of beer out of their respective windows. A slight jostle of my handlebars while I slowed guided us between the cans tumbling down the road without event. But it thoroughly pissed me off! It took every bit of discipline I had not to twist the throttle open and catch up with these rednecks. But I quickly thought about it and wondered what the heck I would do once I caught up with them. A pickup versus motorcycle confrontation could only end up with poor results for the motorcycle so I maintained a slow pace until they were lost over the horizon. My wife and I talked it out and couldn't figure out what on earth they were doing. We laughed it off as we do most odd events.

We arrived at our cutoff on US 84 that would take us to I-40. The road was empty and relatively straight so I opened up the throttle and cut loose for a while. I-40 arrived without event but we both needed a pit stop. I pulled into a rest area and while nofinishline went into the restroom I checked the GPS and saw that the nearest town heading east was Santa Rosa. I called ahead on my cell phone to a Travelodge and arranged a room for the night. We arrived about twenty minutes later and checked in. After wiping down the bike and freshening up a bit we rode over to a the Route 66 Restaurant and had a beer with nachos. Nothing finishes off a day of riding better than a cold beer and a plate of nachos.

An hour later we walked out of the restaurant and saw an old '80 GL1100 parked next to a Dyna Glide. We were gearing up when the owners came out. A young couple in their early thirties had just bought the GL1100 and were tickled pink to be touring on it. They had just sold their Harley Sportster and had found the GL1100 in the newspaper. The Sportster was a bit uncomfortable for two-up touring and they were super impressed with the ergonomics of the old Goldwing. Man, it was good to see a couple of folks geared up like they were ready to jump on their custom cruiser but looking totally in tune with their Wing. Their enthusiasm was infectious as they began comparing the features on the GL1800 versus the GL1100. I would have been more than happy to swap bikes with them for a day if we weren't in the middle of a long ride. It sometimes bothers me to have folks hold us up with chit chat about motorcycles when I'm ready to gear up and ride away but this couple had a fresh wide-eyed motorcycling enthusiasm about them that had us all talking for about an hour. We finally did mount up and ride back to our hotel, but the joy in the ride had returned due to the friendly exchange. We got back to the hotel and stared at the full moon over the eastern horizon as we talked about the wonderful folks you always meet on a motorcycle.