17. Phoenix In November

Sometimes the best trips are the ones where you encounter unusual experiences; for example, bad weather, mechanical troubles, running out of gas, no vacancy signs at motels at midnight, getting lost and other assorted ills. If you combine all these mishaps, you’ll have the great, overly ambitious, ill advised trip we took to Phoenix in November of 1991. It all started when we got tickets to the Phoenix International Raceway...

MONDAY, 10-28-1991 FORT SCOTT, KANSAS TEMP 60 DEGREES RAIN

We left Topeka and rode to Fort Scott, Kansas, on a beautiful early fall day. Trees were showing off their brilliant colors of red and yellow. The air was fresh and clean with clear skies and just a hint of crispness. Perfect motorcycling weather. But this was on Friday, not Monday. We had spent a nice weekend with Judy’s folks and were now contemplating the trip to Phoenix on bikes. A light rain was falling and seemed to set in for a while. I thought that if we could just get started, we could run into another weather system just past El Dorado.

Reluctantly, Judy agreed to start out and see how it went. If the rain didn’t let up, we could always cut north to Topeka and get the car. So with rain suits on, we headed west for the trip of a lifetime. This would be the last trip of the year and we were pushing it a bit, but since we were going west and south, I thought we would be okay.

By the time we reached Iola, Kansas, the sun was out and the skies were clearing. The great weather of the previous Friday had returned and we were makin’ good time. We peeled off the rain suits and headed on with high spirits. It really was a great day to be on the road. Mid-afternoon found us nearing Pratt, Kansas where we stopped for a late lunch at the local KFC.
After lunch and a gas stop, we continued west on 54 highway toward our planned overnight stop at Liberal, Kansas. From Liberal we planned to hit the Interstate at Tucumcari, New Mexico and zip across the mountains, arriving in Phoenix on Wednesday.

As we came into the little town of Meade, Kansas, all this changed. Suddenly, the temperature dropped 30 degrees, the north wind was howling, and the easy part was over. Oh, well, we were not too far from Liberal so we put on warmer clothes and continued west. It was mighty cold when we rode into Liberal a couple of hours later. No matter. We’d be going south in the morning and we knew it would be warmer on the way down to I-40.

We checked into the neat little Budget Motel and unloaded. Since this was an economy trip, we then went to the grocery store for sandwich fixin’s, cookies, fruit and stuff like that. Hurrying back to the motel, Judy commented on how grey the sky looked. Maybe we should check in with the Weather Channel at the Motel.

We made up a picnic supper and settled down to watch the Kansas City Chiefs on Monday Night Football. We kept seeing a note along the bottom of the screen advising of a major winter storm due to hit Liberal early Tuesday morning.

We switched to the weather channel and what we saw there was not good news. A major storm was indeed heading toward Liberal carrying along with it freezing rain and bitter cold temperatures! As we viewed this grim news, we learned that the mountain road was going to close early the next day which meant we had to go even further south before cutting back west. No big deal. South is warm, right?

So, early next morning we headed south intending to cross the mountain range at Cloudcroft in the afternoon.

TUESDAY, 10-29-1991 LIBERAL, KANSAS TEMP 17 DEGREES PRE-FREEZING RAIN CONDITIONS

It was cold! We skipped breakfast to get a jump on this storm and headed south in a bright sunshine that belied the frigid conditions. The engines coughed and sputtered, complaining about the cold air rushing into delicate internal parts. Took a long time to warm up. Rode 60 miles this way, arriving in Perryton, Texas 90 minutes later and stopped at Hardee’s for breakfast.
Talking with some local motorcycle folk, they encouraged us to eat fast and hightail it south as the storm was only a short ways behind us. Temperature is now hovering around 25 degrees, but at least the wind is at our backs.

From Perryton, we angled southwest, dropping into Pampa about an hour later. Temperature...a balmy 34 degrees. But at least it’s bearable and we’re headed south for warmer weather yet.
When we turned west, we realized that the wind from the north was pretty strong and very cold as it beat us up good on the way to Amarillo. Here we turned south again and got great gas mileage, better than 52 mpg and coincidentally, that was the ambient temperature as well. We thought it was a heat wave!

We really enjoyed the next two hours as we had a good tailwind and the day was lukewarm; not too bad. We stopped at a rest stop south of Lubbock and used the motorcycle floorboards as a table for our picnic lunch. Judy is gettin’ a little testy about the conditions and mentions several times that we should have taken the car. She’ll thank me when we reach the warm sunny weather of Arizona and have our bikes for the mountain roads there, I told her.

We got gas at Levelland and continued on west toward Hobbs, New Mexico where we would spend the night. As we came through the pretty little town of Seminole, Texas, we spied a cute little motel with carports and pecan trees and decided to stop early since we were stiff with the cold and had the worst part of the trip behind us now.

We ate a good supper at a nearby cafe, and returned to the room to check the weather channel. Not real great, but we’re far enough south now where we can head for Cloudcroft, New Mexico in the morning and be in the desert by early afternoon tomorrow.

WEDNESDAY, 10-30-1991TEMP 28 FREEZING RAIN AND SNOW

No travel today! Fine mist, freezing as it touches the ground; ice covers everything in sight. Walked downtown slowly for breakfast. Bought a Big Chief tablet to use as a diary. Judy again mentions the words I’ll hear many times; “We should have taken the car.” Seminole is a very small place. Population 3800. Situated about twenty miles from New Mexico, it’s the last town in Texas. Not much to do here. Hindsight note; we should have gone on to Hobbs yesterday, and then went south to Carlsbad for the night. We could have avoided this delay, but...

In the afternoon we hiked up the road to Wal-Mart. Bought chemical hand warmers and other stuff to help pass the time. Back to the motel where a Jenny Jones marathon was on. Watched the weather channel too. Maybe we can get out tomorrow.

THURSDAY, 10-31-1991 SEMINOLE, TEXAS TEMPERATURE 21 ICE AND SNOW

Parking lot covered with a fine dusting of snow. Ice still coats everything, but at least the sun’s out. Maybe we can get out this afternoon. By 11:00 am the sun’s been working and although the parking lot is icy, the road is clearing off due to heavy truck traffic. Maybe after dinner...
After yet another West Texas hamburger, we check out of the motel and walk each bike out of the lot and over to the side of the road where we start the engines and let them warm up. We ease out onto the road and carefully make our way westward.

Once again we’re off! The great adventure continues. Now we’ll cross the mountains at Carlsbad and be only two days late getting to Phoenix. We’re only runnin’ 35 to 40 mph but, hey! At least we’re movin’! Beats another day of that annoying pest, Jenny Jones.

At times we have to ride on the gravel alongside the road to avoid slick, icy pavement, and so we slowly negotiate the last few miles of Texas and enter New Mexico at Hobbs. These guys got even more snow and ice than Seminole! We gingerly ease our way through the town and head south down towards Carlsbad where the sun is just starting to shine.

We’ve been able to use the cruise controls for a while and it sure keeps your hands warm to be able to sit on one hand to warm it up while driving with the other. Switching every five minutes, it works well. But as we head down into Carlsbad, my cruise control breaks! Now I have no way to keep my hands warm!

The temperature is now around 40 and we’re feeling a little better. We stop at Mickey D’s and Judy gets dinner and hot coffee for me as I check out the broken cruise control. Good news and bad news. It’s only a disconnected cable. I can make a temporary repair now with my hands and get on it with a wrench when we get to the motel tonight.

Cruise control patched, we eat and study the map. Talking with a local resident, he advises us to go through Guadelupe State Park in Texas instead of trying to cross the mountains at the little traveled passes. The Rockies end just north of El Paso and we don’t have to do any mountain riding on slick roads if we go this way!

We leave Carlsbad with full tummies and warm feet. The temperature is getting better and a warm southern wind is picking up. We are not complaining. We meet an on-coming Gold Wing pulling a trailer and he cautions us to watch for the wind on the hill. It’s the first bike we’ve seen for three days now other than our own. Where is everybody?

Now we’re back in Texas, riding in Guadelupe State Park near the area known as McKittrick Canyon where the wind blows strong and gusty! I relax and start telling Judy we’ll be fine from here on and aren’t you glad we brought the bikes now and....

Suddenly, Judy’s bike swerves across the wide four lane road as she fights for control! I’m having troubles of my own as this cross wind must be 80 miles per hour! We are nearly off the road! So this is what the Gold Wing rider meant by “the wind on the hill”. Too late we see the wind socks standing straight out from the poles. Greyhound buses and semi’s have been blown over here. I remember reading about that now that we’re in it past the point of no return!
The “hill” is just before you reach El Capitan; a famous landmark used by stagecoach drivers in the early days. We finally regain control and agree that if we have to detour on the way home, we’ll go all the way to Fort Worth and turn left! Ain’t crossing this road again in this lifetime!
As we come down onto the salt desert, we really fly. Gotta get gas and find a place to stay before it gets dark. We enter El Paso at the peak of the 5:00 o’clock rush hour, miss our Interstate entrance and find ourselves in the barrio at near sundown, nearly out of gas and nobody here hablos ingles none too good. We are in big trouble.

Then up ahead is a brightly lit gas station where we fill up and meet a friendly senor who speaks our language. He graciously leads us back to the Interstate and all ends well. We race westward to Las Cruces where we find a nice motel with hot showers and warm beds. We collapse. It’s been a tough day.

FRIDAY, 11-1-1991 LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO TEMPERATURE 26 DEGREES COLD AND CLEAR

Can’t escape this record cold. Everywhere we stop, the cold catches up with us. Forecast for today is better as we are now on the floor of the Great Southwest American Desert. Early this morning I disassembled the headlight housing and permanently repaired the cruise control. In point of fact, it never came loose again over the next 5 years!

Bundled up against the cold, we hurry west at great speed. We’ve lost three days. We don’t have time to go to the Grand Canyon, and if we’re going to Old Mexico, we’d better do it today! Our problem has been a weather system that drives us south and there are no more southern routes to take, so we are going to Nogales. The weather is warming up nicely now, but the heavy leather jacket still feels good.

At Lordsburg, Arizona we leave the Interstate and head south again down toward Nogales. Lots of cactus and low altitude mountains off in the distance. It is good to be warm. We get in to Nogales around mid-afternoon. Judy flags down a policeman and he directs us to safe parking on the American side. Right next door is... Mickey D’s! The parking lot is called Ed’s. We walk over to Old Mexico and enjoy bargaining with the natives. They are better at this than we are as you shall soon see. We drink real Coca-Cola, strong stuff, the original recipe. Remember how it used to come roarin’ back through your nose when you were a kid? Well, it still does, but it does go well with hot Mexican food!

We bought some Baja Jackets for about six bucks apiece. In the USA, they are called Senor Lopez shirts and sell for $21.95! Little ironwood figures are $3.00 each or three for $10.00. Naturally, I go for the group discount.

Also, I bought a genuine Clint Eastwood Poncho like he wore in “Hang ‘em High”! A big blanket with a hole in the center. Again I searched for the El Toro Negro that I should have bought in San Miguel some years ago. Ah, well. It does keep me coming back to Mexico. All too soon, we gotta go. We’re three days and twelve hours late in meeting our friends up in Apache Junction. And do we have stories to tell??!!

Out on I-17 North to Phoenix. 97 miles to go. Oops, that kilometers, not miles. Sure makes a difference in the speed in which the signs change. Stop in Tucson for gas and call Scott to wish him a happy birthday on Tuesday. We reach Paul and Jeannie in Apache Junction and tell them we’re still coming.

This is pretty good riding for an Interstate Highway. The weather’s warm, traffic’s light and the mountains are showcasing a long, spectacular and beautiful sunset off to our left. About now it strikes me that I screwed up big time buying three ironwood figures for $10. I could have bought them individually for $3 each! Judy laughs gleefully! She really is a sadistic, kinky, little...!

We arrive a little before 10:00 p.m. that night in Apache Junction and we’re starved for some decent meals. Enough, already with the quarter pounders. Though it’s late, I want a big steak, with eggs, and gallons of hot coffee. Gotta wash the taste of McDonald’s out of my mouth.
The late supper done with, we head to the cashier to settle up. Hands still numb from the cold, I collect my change and reach for a toothpick, knocking over the dispenser. I watch in horror as the entire display comes crashing down. Toothpicks scattered all over the place. I take one, just one, and mumble, “I’m sorry” and become a blacksmith; making a bolt for the door!
We catch a little of the race news and go to bed, sleeping hard. Been a tough week and we just got here! Tomorrow, we’ll move to a motel that’s closer to the track and go see the sights of Sedona up in Oak Creek Canyon. Then, on Sunday, it’s race day!

SATURDAY 11-2-1991 APACHE JUNCTION TEMPERATURE 68 DEGREES CLEAR SKIES

Today we moved to a new motel, closer to the track and decide not to go to the Busch Race, but to tour the area a little. We head for Sedona, a pretty little tourist trap where lots of genuine Indian artifacts are available. But, not cheap! Nope, these are first class treasures at maximum prices. Paul found a neat coffee cup, Judy bought a gold edged plate, but Jeanne and I found nothing worth buyin’ here today.

We stopped at a Texaco station in Flagstaff to gas up the car and I found a special pottery vase made by Betty Selby for about half of what they wanted in Oak Creek Canyon! Best of all, I put it on the Texaco credit card!

Oh, we did eat some fake Texas bar-b-que, but it was middlin’ and there weren’t very many beans with the order. And the range coffee was anemic. Headed back to the new motel and a good night’s rest. Tomorrow is Race Day and it will be long and hot. Can’t wait!

SUNDAY 11-3-1991 PHOENIX INTERNATIONAL RACEWAY TEMPERATURE 81 DEGREES CLEAR SKIES

Up real early. Out to the track in the rental car. Lots of traffic, but the Arizona Highway Patrol does a good job of getting a lot of cars into one small place with great skill. We park in a nondescript area, take a landmark of the cactuses (cacti?) and head for the souvenir stands. We buy caps, t-shirts, and shiny things while Judy gets in a fight with the Maalox Man.
The Maalox people had a booth where they gave away samples of their fine product and periodically, like every hour or so, the Maalox Man gave away five T- shirts. They were quite handsome. Bright, red letters, torn in half and spelling out “I’m having a Maalox moment!”, Judy was quite taken with this T-shirt and just had to have one. Alas, the Maalox Man quit giving them away just as it was her turn to get one. “Sorry,” he said. “Come back in an hour and try again.” Oops, he shouldn’t have said that. Judy went ballistic! Grabbin’ him by the shirt front, she screamed, “Listen to me, pilgrim! My husband has nearly killed me on icy roads, I was snowed in for two days with nothing to do but watch Jenny Jones, the wind nearly blew me off a mountain, and we got lost in the barrio of El Paso! I rode a motorcycle 1800 miles to get here and I still have to ride it to get back home. Now, give me that shirt!”

Without a word he handed one over. Still wide eyed, he croaked, “Lady, I’m not supposed to do this, but you scare me worse than my boss! Here! If anybody asks, you’re my best customer!”
Judy smiled sweetly and quietly said, “Thank you.” She really has a nice smile, especially when she wins!

After that, the race was anti-climatic, with Davey Allison winning easily. A couple got married on the track, and paratroopers landed on the infield. We sat in the stands while the crowd filed out, in no hurry to leave as this was a warm 80 degree day. Tomorrow, we head for Kansas and we may run into more cold weather. For now just let us enjoy this day. We left later, ready for a good meal and a good night’s rest.

MONDAY 11-4-1991 PHOENIX, ARIZONA TEMPERATURE 63 SUNNY AND CLEAR

Loaded and ready to go by 6:00 am. Paul and Jeannie took back the rental car. Judy and I headed north and east up through the mountains in perfect weather. An hour of easy runnin’ brought us to the little mountain pueblo of Payson and yet another Egg McMuffin. Climbing higher now, it’s clear, sunny and the wind is slowly freshening. Soon, we notice a decided chill in the air. Yep! It’s gettin’ colder. This is where we came in. We pull into a roadside park and put on the cold weather gear. Another hour and a half and we pulled out on I-40 and dropped the hammer. We have to make good time today since the road is open. The cold is nothing as to what it was on the way down, so we’re makin’ good time.

In mid-afternoon we see signs that announce Gallup is a few miles ahead. We can gas up there and eat before headin’ on. But, there’s something about Gallup that I should remember, but just can’t. A message tryin’ to get through. Maybe it’ll come to me later.

We gassed up at an Interstate gas station that sold pottery and here Judy bought a real neat little jug with gold trim. Funny how our best items on this trip have come from gas stations. We pull into a Gallup restaurant and park. Immediately we’re attacked by drunk people! Now I remember about Gallup, New Mexico! Gallup has the highest motor vehicle mortality rate in the nation, due to drunk driving on the road in and out of the reservation!

Well, we gotta eat, so we fight our way through the growing crowd and enter the warm, fragrant cafe. Several of the more opportunistic inebriates crawl in behind us, tryin’ to get warm and this triggers an alarming response from the manager.

Swinging into action, he thumps the vagrants about the head and shoulders with a heavy cardboard tube, makin’ short work of clearing them out of his place. Then turning to us as if nothing unusual happened, he smiled and said, “Two? Smoking or non-smoking?” Cool dude.
Back on the road, we continue making good time till we reach Albuquerque and stop for gas before checking into the local Motel 6. Hey, look who’s here. It’s Paul and Jeannie in their nice warm car. They have to be home tomorrow and so they gotta go. Our trip will take two more days.

TUESDAY 11-5-1991 ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO TEMPERATURE 30 DEGREES OVERCAST AND COLD

Today’s is Scott’s birthday. Other than that, this is a real dull day. Hard travelin’, not much conversation from Judy as the weather is still real cold and will not get any warmer. She is not pleased with this trip.

At Tucumcari, we head north again, into the wind. We see lots of old snow and slush near the road from the big storm that chased us south last week. Stopping at an ATM machine for “supplies” we continue on to Liberal arriving around mid-afternoon. We decide to stop early as we’re only six hours from home and we’d like to stay at this nice Budget Motel again. Can you say...big mistake? The lady at the Motel recognizes us as there are not too many bikers this time of year.

We have more Mexican food for an early supper. We retire to the room for a weather check. In disbelief we see yet another major winter storm that will be approaching Topeka from the west and should arrive in the early afternoon. Damnation, we really seem to pay the price for these early stops. This means a very early start and a hard ride tomorrow.

WEDNESDAY 11-6-1991 LIBERAL, KANSAS TEMPERATURE 20 DEGREES CLOUDY AND FOGGY

Up at 5:00 am. Walk across the street for a quick bowl of oatmeal. No coffee. No time for pee stops later down the road. We ease out of the parking lot that is covered with a thick frost. It’s still dark. Every time we exhale, our face shields fog up and we quit seein’. Gonna be a long day.
We head east on 54 hoping to get a little more light after the sun comes up. It’s not even 6:00 am yet and we’re in a race with this storm. After 10 miles we encounter a new obstacle...fog! This slows us down. Can’t see 20 feet in front of us most of the time. After an hour or so, the fog lifts and we’re able to pick it up. Headin’ east, the north wind is really beatin’ us up. We’re cold and cranky. This is not fun.

At Pratt, we stop at McDonald’s. We hear an old lady gripin’ about her motor home bein’ so cold she had to put on a sweater! I thought Judy was goin’ to repeat her Maalox Man act. We decide to head into the north wind, up to Newton; we really need a break from this vicious cross wind. And it is indeed more comfortable with a head wind.

As we near Newton, Kansas, Judy dials in a strong FM radio station so we can track this storm. After gas and snacks in Newton, we’re back at it again, headed for the Kansas Turnpike at Emporia.

As we enter the turnpike, we hear on the radio that the storm is just west of Manhattan. We gotta stop one more time for bathroom business, snacks, and then it’s hammer down time. We pull into the first rest stop and do all this for the last time. Pulling back on the turnpike, we hear that the storm is now east of Manhattan, about 45 miles from Topeka. We’re 50 miles out. We gotta go!

We drop down to the trucker’s Channel 19 on the CB. We’re runnin’ 80-85 and worried that we may not make it. While at the rest area, I placed my hand on the pavement and it was still slightly warm. Even if it starts snowing we should have a little time before it sticks. Logical deduction would lead us to believe that we can still navigate, but not for long and not very far. It’s really very important to keep moving.

The sky is white now. A trucker tells us when he came through Wamego, it had just started snowing there and that was forty five minutes ago. On we go at greater and greater speed. If we get stuck out here, we’ll have to stay with the bikes till someone finds us. Don’t even want to think about that.

Eight miles to go to the turnpike exit. Huge snowflakes are falling and snow is blowing across the road. We slow momentarily, till we realize this is it; the make it or break it choice point. Hammer down, Judy! This is a dry snow and the road’s still warm so we got a good chance. There’s the exit up ahead. What a pretty sight! We live only two miles from the turnpike so we are lookin’ good. I pay for both bikes and leave the change. Can’t take the time to remove the gloves for measly quarters.

Here the snow is building up and we can feel how slick the road is. The bikes don’t want to turn and we dare not lean them over. Closer to home now, we turn east on 45th and go toward Adams street. As we approach our intersection, we hear someone on the CB directing a double wide mobile home to get ready to turn right on Adams. Hey, we can’t have this! In desperation I yell on the CB, “Comin’ through!”

Fortunately, they heard us and backed off as we slid around the corner in front of them. We heard them talking about nuts riding in a blizzard. Oh, what the hell? We bought our first bikes in a blizzard, remember?

Down the hill to the bridge, a dicey turn to the left and a greasy ride up the hill where we turn right for one block. Just one more block! Don’t quit now. At last we creep into the driveway. We nearly collapse with relief, but it ain’t over yet. Don’t let’s drop a bike now. We raise the garage door, gently move the bikes inside and cut the engines. Man, it’s quiet all of a sudden. We made it! Outside, it’s snowing harder.

We had absolutely no window of time left. Judy never did say she was glad we took the bikes. We just barely got home after covering nearly 4,000 miles, most of them were detours to avoid storms, we used a floorboard for a picnic table, watched Jenny Jones ad nauseum, nearly got blown off a mountain, almost ran out of gas, got lost in the barrio of El Paso, got bargains in Mexico, robbed a Maalox Man, saw a great NASCAR race and still managed to get home safely in spite of great odds! Ain’t motorcyclin’ grand!!??

After hot showers, we went out for a good supper. In the car. With a heater. And a roof. Windows that close. And...

Hey, Judy! Wanna take a ride next weekend?