After posting yesterday's blog, I called the Best Western in Eagar, AZ, to move it back a day (to today, rather than tomorrow.) Much to my surprise and chagrin, they were full. What?? What the heck is there in Eagar, to fill up a hotel, anyway?
So, I figured, I'd play it by ear, and see how I felt, as I passed Eagar, and then Alpine. I was feeling pretty good up until I started my descent into New Mexico, towards Glenwood. I've always done this ride in the early morning, and it always seemed cool enough. Well, it's a different story in the afternoon. It was about 91 degrees in Glenwood, which isn't too bad, but I knew that Safford was going to be the worst part.
I was feeling okay, once I started drinking about a quart or two of gatorade an hour. This didn't initially dawn on me until I left the interstate headed towards St. Johns, and started feeling kinda weird. I felt better after drinking downing one of the 500ml bottles of Gatorade. Fast forward a bit... By the time I reached Safford, it was 103, and I was feeling punchy, and decided discretion was the better part of valor. I'd been getting pretty tired, and riding on reflex, rather than paying full attention. Time to stop. Timing was probably fortuitous. No sooner had I finished my early dinner at the Manor House, and was in the lobby of the Best Western checking in, when one of those hellacious pre-rain storm dust storms blasted through. This one was a lot worse than others I had seen, and the poor bike got blasted by dust and debris for about 20 minutes, as I watched on from the lobby window. It was really blowing, and I was afraid it was going to tip over, but she held. Good thing I rembered Scott's tip on keeping it in gear. I thought about moving it, but this seemed like asking for a spill...
(I've still got to come up with a name for my bike. My old 65 Chevy Impala was named "Big Blue" by the family (okay the car was my parent's car, really). My friends called the Chevy the blue bomber, due to it's enormous size. I haven't quite figured out what the FJR would be called. Scott suggested "protein bar," after my favorite travel snack, but that wasn't quite what I had in mind... After today, I may have to call it "Dusty" or "Sandy." The pictures don't really do the dust storm justice, since I conveniently popped the camera back in the top case, just before the storm got significantly worse...
Dave's meeting me at the Manor House for breakfast. (I'm buying!) You can arm wrestle Kari over this, if you like.
~r
PS: Scott, hurry up with your blog, already. I'm sure it will be much funnier when you retell it :)
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