Route 66 Kitsch

Route 66, "America's Highway" runs parallel to I-40 from time to time, but not all the way through. Dusty and I took it for several stretches from New Mexico to California, where it ends in the city of my birth, Barstow.

There are plenty of photo opps in the tourist traps that dot the old highway.  Winslow, Arizona ran with the Eagles song  "Take it Easy" to make its kitschey mark -- and I fell for it! For those of you too young to remember, or whose taste in music has led you astray, the pertinent line says:

"Well I'm a standin' on the corner in Winslow, Arizona and such a fine sight to see. It's a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford slowin' down to take a look at me..."  

This photo now has a place ensconced in a Route 66 frame. After all, what's life without some kitsch?

 Hats off to Dusty for setting up the shot and capturing the moment.

Kissing Asses

We lost more than a day from our planned schedule in the convection oven of the Southwest. From Texas through the Mojave Desert, temps were well over 100 and the winds surged at over 40mph.  Thankfully I had a hydration vest that kept me comfortable -- submerge it in water and it works like a swamp cooler as you roll down the road.

In spite of losing so much time I was determined to visit Oatman, Arizona and Dusty humored me in spite of the long day already behind us by the time we approached Oatman (God love her!).

Formerly a gold mining town, Oatman is now a tourist destination thanks to Route 66 nostalgia and the wild burros that roam its streets. The burros are descended from pack animals turned loose by early prospectors, and are protected by the US Department of the Interior . You can set your watch by their 5pm departure from Main Street to the surrounding hills. 

Dusty and I had a couple of apples in a cooler and we brought them out for photo opps. Only later did I learn that donkeys don't digest them as easily as horses -- it gives them diarrhea. Sorry!

As an adventure rider I have to note that the road to Oatman has wonderful twisties. Some day I'll go back and take them at speed.

San Francisco Motorcycle Club ROCKS!

Thanks to Christina Shook (far left in photo) for wrangling an invitation to meet and greet the SFMC! She also let Karen (pink shirt), Dusty (far right) and me stay overnight with her family. 

The SFMC's center city clubhouse features dark wood and comfy seating with vintage pictures, pennants and bike parts everywhere. Members are proud of their history as the first club to admit women as full members (not auxiliaries) and the president told me that had it not been for the women members the club would have folded in its infancy. 

Members graciously listened as I told them about the Conga's history and our plans for this year in Shell, then they generously donated over $300 to our cause! 

A few of the members joined Dusty (far right) and me as we rode north from the Marina area to Point Reyes on July 4. Next year they asked us to come back on a Saturday night for a full-on event. You can bet we'll be there, gang.  

Next Week: The California & Oregon Coasts

Leaving San Francisco on July 4th, Dusty and I are headed up the Pacific Coast Highway to the Oregon coast. 

Week four finds us headed for the big Conga rally in Shell, Wyoming.

After Shell I'll head for Winnipeg (that's a city in the Canadian province of Manitoba, you Yanks) and then ride down the Mississippi from its headwaters in St. Paul, Minnesota (that's an American state, you Canucks).