It was my first "real" ride..... not little jaunts to the next town or bordering counties on flat straight roads. It was the end of 2005 and we were visiting some family south of Albuquerque NM. My dad would work on the road all Spring, Summer and fall...... When December would roll around he would bring the family down to New Mexico every year and ride all month covering New Mexico and the surrounding states. Since I was going to be married the following year I figured it would be my last chance to get out so I went along for the trip. I took the 69 and my dad took his ulta classic. I always took it easy on the bike since it wasn't mine but I hammered on that thing just to try and keep up with my dad. I figured.... well it's his..... if I blow it up it's not my fault. Three days before Christmas we decided to go for a ride.
It was fucking cold! Since the only time my dad ever got the chance to ride was in the winter he had the proper gear. I on the over hand had some shitty gloves and stiff foreign leathers probably made of Yack hide that didn't do shit for me. I layered on the clothes and we headed south.
We started hitting roads heading east. You could ride for what seemed like thousands of miles without seeing another sole. Gas was few and far between as well....... it got scary at times even with 5 gallon tanks.
It seemed that every road we rhode upon was one of Billy The Kid's tails while running from the law. It was crazy to think that some one could make it across this terrain on horse back.
We stopped in Lincoln where Billy escaped from jail then headed on to Roswell in search of big headed people.
Somewhere in between it warmed up enough to strip off some of my layers. My dad came out of the gas station and couldn't believe the pile of clothes that were laying on the ground. We barely had enough room to tote it along. We stopped outside of Carlsbad to catch some Z's. The next day we hit up the caverns which is one of the most amazing things one will ever see. We crossed the Guadalupe Mountains...... Let me tell you.... those cross winds were fuck'n knarly! We stopped at the national park and the people there couldn't believe we were riding in that wind until I showed them some pictures in the back of my camera...... then they were really freaked out. At one point I had the throttle wide open going down the back side of the mountain and the bike was bogging down. I couldn't believe it..... I thought the motor gave up.
We finally made it over to El Paso.... looked at Mexico across the river then jammed up to Las Cruces. We ate some great Mexican food.... checked out some of Billy The Kid's hiding places and hit the pillow.
The next morning we made white sand castles....... then flew up the interstate for a great christmas eve dinner. I'll never forget that trip!
It's pretty rare that me and Mitch are home at the same time. Friday nights after work, before the night starts out we usually grab some supper together. Because we're both broke all the time and main street only has a convenience store, this has become our standard Friday night set down. Spam, white bread, mustard, hot sauce and Fritos for the crunch. Top it off with a bottle of real Coca Cola and a zebra cake for desert. It's about as American as black coffee and hand jobs and it'll leave you a couple of bucks for a tall boy and a full tank of gas. Zippity do da.
Lots of talk about vans and the lifestyle lately but it seems that most have forgotten about the 4x4. To get the full potential out of vannin' and to take advantage of the built-in bed I think you gotta be able to get lost in the woods for some of that natural lovin'.
Jeep J10 with the one and only truck bed option, flatbed. If you work hard you know what I'm talking about.
So I finally finished the Pan and took her out for a break-in run up to the Wisconsin border. Put on the ipod and hit the two laners heading North. Up on the state line I was listening to the song "Angels" by Black Mountain. The song is so ill that my eyes were being crushed by the sound to where I barely had one eye cracked through the Ray Bans. It was just enough to catch the back side of a killer lifted white CJ7. It was hot as blazes and the sun was burning red when I got close enough to see the long sandy blonde hair of two back country prizes whipping in the wind. As I slowly make the pass, the driver with her sun dress and dark sunglasses on, pulled the hair from her face and gave me the sweetest smile and perfect wave, so I had to see what they were up to.
