March 30th - April 2nd

It's a Matter of Timing

Most of my events have a more defined purpose than this one. Usually there’s a rally, a cool destination, friends to meet, or the call of a gastronomical delight. For this trip, there was none of the above except to see my sister and my college roommate. After leaving El Paso 26 years ago, those are the only two remaining draws to my birthplace. I’ve had a hard time placing an exact date on my previous return, but I believe it was about 13 years ago. In the meantime, I’ve successfully convinced sibling Carol and ex-roomie Bob (aka “Bad Bob”) to visit me in California. However, it has been six months since I’ve seen my sister (and that frequency has increased thankfully due to her return to motorcycling) and well over a year since I’ve had a visit from Bad Bob.

The timing couldn’t have been better. The March winds (and associated sandstorms) were starting to die out and it was still too early for those triple digit temps for which the southwest desert is so famous. My big project was on hold for a few days while I awaited the latest barrage of changes from my client. If I waited, the window of opportunity would close because I would once again be swamped with work, then recuperating from the long awaited gall bladder surgery and finally fully engulfed in the Southern California motorcycle riding season. So, I committed to a four day weekend, Thursday, March 30^th, through Sunday, April 2^nd.

One significant problem of planning a trip from Orange County to El Paso is the route. The most direct route is I-10 (770 miles). An alternative is I-5 south to San Diego then I-8 to I-10 (782 miles). Using either option there are too many “I”s. For those who know me also know that I have a disdain for riding a motorcycle on an Interstate or anything that resembles an Interstate. It’s a waste of good tires and proves the axiom that the shortest distance between two points is boring! Since my timeframe was flexible, I decided that it wasn’t that important if I arrived Thursday night or as late as mid-day Friday. Additionally, I could arrive back in Southern California mid-day Monday instead of Sunday night. So, the “pressure” of making the destination either way in one day was relieved. I could pick the route that suited me the best.

Thursday

My departure started as I like to start many of my rides; Ortega Highway at sunrise. The majority of the traffic is going the other way and I have a clear lane for the entire ride “over the hill”. I pick up I-15 for a short distance south to Hwy 79, then quickly to S-16 (past the Pachanga Casino) to one of my favorite roads, S-76. Riding S-76 on Thursday morning is sooo much nicer than on Sunday, mostly due to the fact that I don’t have to negotiate passing the packs of slow moving HDs. Just north of Santa Ysabel, I turn right onto S-79 and ride through Julian. I think briefly about stopping for a slice of apple pie (sugar free, of course), but decide to bank the time. Regardless where I stop, today will be a full riding day.

I follow S-79 until I pick up S-2 south through Anza Borrego. I have been on the northern section of S-2 several times, but I believe this is the first time I’ve ridden this section of the road. What a wonderful surprise! Lots of twisties, clean pavement and no traffic. What a sensation smorgasbord! I stop for a break and call Nancy to let her know that I may not reach El Paso tonight because I'm having such a good time. I continue on S-2 until it reaches I-8 at Ocotillo. Instead of jumping on the Interstate, I cross it and ride Hwy 98 through Calexico and avoid a few more miles of the Interstate.

My opportunities of avoiding the Interstate ended prematurely with the closure of Hwy 98 (due to road construction). I follow the detour on S33 to I-8, losing a little time and more importantly, gasoline range. Once again (like the 3 Flags Classic last fall), I arrive in Yuma on fumes. I purchase 6.58 gallons of gas for my 6.6 gallon tank. If I want to stay on the pavement and in the United States, my only option for a while is I-8 through Casa Grande where it merges with I-10. I resign myself to the fact that this is the only practical option for me and I settle in for a few hours of boredom.

After going through Tucson, I can't stand it anymore and turn south on Hwy 83, then east on Hwy 82, south again on Hwy 90 through Sierra Vista and on through Bisbee. I am rejuvenated once again and the adventure has returned. I stop in Douglas for gas and turn north on Hwy 80 on the eastern side of Ciricahua Peak.

As I turn east on NM Hwy 9, the sun sets on me and it is quite dark by the time I reach Columbus. The road from Columbus to El Paso is black as black can get. There are few lights because most people who aren't transporting people or drugs across the border are using the Interstate. The road is straight and flat, but I watch for cattle straying across the road. Fortunately, I do not encounter any nor coyotes, in animal or human form. I reach El Paso about 8:30 pm local time, 14 hours on the nose after my departure from San Juan Capistrano. I call Nancy and Carol to let them know I have arrived safely. I still have plenty of energy, partly due to the invigorating ride, but also due to an apparent overdose of Frappucinos. Today would be my second longest riding day, but a distinction that would hold only until Sunday.

Total for the day: 883 miles.

When I call Carol to tell her I've arrived safely, I mention the distance I rode today. After she recovers from the shock and awe, I share my disappointment. She's curious, so I explain that, twenty years from now when my riding will be just a memory and all I have left to do is to admire the awards, certificates and numerous rally pins I accumulated over the years, I'll often stare at that blank section of the wall where that IBA SaddleSore certificate should have been if I had just ridden a little further today.

Friday

I wake Friday morning and pack up because the hotel where I've got my Friday and Saturday reservations did not have room for me on Thursday night. I go to the University (U.T.E.P.) to see if any of my old professors are still there and I find Dr. Dowdy with whom I took Heat Transfer. I don't think he remembered me, but we had a nice chat. I then made my way across town and found my sister's house. The last time I was in El Paso, my sister lived out in the "boondocks". Now, she seems to be in the middle of town. No, she didn't move. El Paso has grown. When I left (in 1977), the population was 315,000. Now it's 562,000 (according to the sign coming into town). After parking the bike, I was introduced to her dogs. She has 9 of them. What an entourage! They all seem to be happy dogs and are all very friendly.

We took a tour of her home and she brought me up to date on all the latest projects. She then took me to her garage. I was amazed at the tools she has. I would guess she has two of just about everything. She has the whole place plumbed for compressed air so that she can check her 5th wheel RV (which is outside adjacent to the garage) as well as two and four wheeled vehicles near the garage door. She then walked me through her current project, replacing the interior of her '88 Corvette. I can tell this is going to be quite a project. Checking every switch and bulb socket. Replacing just about everything made of rubber. Whew! We then spend the remainder of the evening visiting.

I also get to spend some time with Carol's roommate, Pauletta and Carol's motorcycle buddy, Toni, who just took delivery on her new enclosed trailer. Toni arrives late from picking up her trailer and Pauletta's mom from the Texas panhandle. Spending days of running from the wild fires as well as coping with a more-difficult-than-necessary experience in picking up the trailer has sent Toni's normally bubbly personality into hiding.

Later in the evening I excuse myself and check into my hotel room.

Saturday

Saturday morning I make my way over to Bob's house. Everyone is getting ready for Ian's softball game. Beth looks (at least) 20 years younger. She has been on a treadmill for a year (up to four miles a day) and has lost all the weight (and more) she gained when she quit smoking prior to delivering Melvin fourteen years ago. I can't get over how good she looks and I'm sure I embarrass her with my comments. What an inspiration. Melvin is getting bigger, Ian seems to be getting smaller and it's hard to believe the twins will be turning 21 this year. Sean is looking particularly good. It's hard to believe he will be off to Sul Ross State this year. Fifteen years ago, I never imagined this day would come. The Gray home is a full one with the three boys and five Collies (who outweigh Carol's 9 poodle-types). We chat for a while (not long enough) as everyone gets ready for the softball game. We make plans for dinner and I return to my sister's home.

	Left to Right: Bill, Bob, Ian and Beth
Bill upon arrival at Bob & Beth's	Left to Right: Sean, Ian, Bill, Beth and Melvin
Ian and Melvin at softball
Carol and Bill

It's time to take a tour of the town as Carol and Toni show me the new "loop", Hwy 375. I ask if I can ride fast on Trans Mountain and my sister gives me that look which might say "why even bother saying no?". The loop is nice in that one can now go from the Eastside to the Northeast very efficiently and we arrive at Trans Mountain in no time at all. Carol signals me to pass and I take her cue. Even though it's a little breezy, I do get to visit the ton. About the time I reach the summit, I realize that I really don't know what a local LEO looks like anymore (although that image was once a well defined image in my mind's eye many years ago), so I back off a little bit on the down hill side. I pull over and wait for Carol and Toni to catch up. Toni leads us to a popular Mexican restaurant for lunch in Canutillo. One of the things that was special to me about El Paso for many years was the Mexican food. But, now that I live in San Juan Capistrano, it seems to me that I no longer have to go very far for the cuisine I grew up enjoying.

On the way back, we realize that we won't make it home in time before we will have to turn around to meet Bob and Beth for dinner, so we just head for the restaurant, helmet hair and all. No big deal. Jaxon's isn't that fancy (which is a good thing). The food is good and the company is outstanding.

After dinner, we say our goodbyes and agree that the visit wasn't long enough. I definitely didn't get a chance to spend much time with Bad Bob as I had hoped.

Fortunately, my room is less than a couple of miles away. I try to do as much pre-packing as I can and try to fall asleep as quick as I can in preparation for the ride the following day.

Sunday

Unfortunately, I don't get up as soon as I would like, although it is about 5:20 am California time. Due to the time change, the sun has been up quite a while and I realize I've lost some valuable road time. Still, I don't think I could have gotten up any earlier (yes, I did use my alarm), but I was still pretty tired. I don't think I rest that well on motel beds. In fact, I usually feel more rested sleeping on my Thermarest in a sleeping bag. I'm "away" by 6:40, but get a little turned around trying to find the Columbus Highway again. Eventually I do and I'm back to retracing the route I took on Thursday. Of course, it looks brand new since it was pitch black on Thursday. While backtracking through Douglas then Bisbee, I'm studying the map trying to find an alternative to the section of Interstate looming ahead. I decide to taking Hwy 77 north out of Tucson towards Oracle Junction then Hwy 79 towards Florence. Getting through Tucson and subsequently Hwy 77 is a nightmare with the heavy traffic. Riding on Sunday is definitely different than riding on Thursday. I eventually get to "clean air" by the time I reach Hwy 79.

I follow Hwy 79 to Florence Junction at Hwy 60 and turn west towards Phoenix. Hwy 60 into town is a mess but not as bad as the eastbound side. The whole road is closed due to an apparently fatality when someone tried to enter an exit ramp. I take the 101 loop around Phoenix, trying to avoid as much as I can, but it's slow as well. I finally make it to I-17 north to Hwy 74 west and take a break in Wickenburg. By the time I reach Wickenburg, I realize I've lost a lot of time due to the late start, traffic and my "embellished" route home. But, hey, I've ridden very little Interstate so far and that's still a good thing. Even though I've got half a tank of gas, I top off because I'm not expecting to get very good gas mileage between Wickenburg and Parker, about 100 miles away.

I get to Parker as the sun is getting low and the town is packed with the remnants of Spring Breakers. I clear traffic not far past Vidal Junction and essentially have the road, Hwy 62, to myself until the sun is well below the horizon. Once again, I'm riding in the desert at night and it is very, very dark. Riding like this consumes so much energy due to the fact that I'm trying to keep my awareness.

I reach Twentynine Palms and I'm pretty exhausted. I call Nancy to give her an update. I make one more stop for gas in Banning and I'm home by 11 pm. In retrospect, I probably should have stopped in Banning in the interest of safety and I make a promise to myself that the next time I would.

I climb off the bike, pet the dogs, kiss the wife (but it could have been vise-versa for all I know), get out of the riding gear and fall into bed.

I think I can do that about every thirteen years or so.

Total for the day: 971 miles. The last thing on my mind is that missing SaddleSore certificate.

Total for the trip: 2,011 miles.