Detroit

Before you start - not much motorcycle talk in this one, sorry ya'll.

  For my readers that are not close friends, I have been working a lot in the Motor City this year. Since February, I have spent seven weeks or so in Detroit. This is partly one of the reasons that I have not posted in so long, but there are other, more personal reasons that I may or may not share one day.

  To get to it, last week, while I waited for a nurse to administer my random drug test (A Homeland Security requirement for my job). I browsed social media and was horrified to see this picture posted:

  

   My goal in writing this is not to embarrass the friend who posted this, nor to debate the politics of the picture, but to describe everyday Detroit as I have experienced it. Looking at that picture, I realized a large portion of the population probably haven’t been exposed to how well Detroit is doing. There just hasn’t been a lot of national news coverage since the bankruptcy. And that was 4 years ago.

This is what
Detroit looks like

not this

A lot has changed. I know, because I have eyeballs and haven't seen piles of debris like that. 

  I left the clinic around 1830 or so and headed for downtown proper. (Yes, Dad, alone.)  As soon as I parked, I regretted not making the solo trip downtown on a previous trip. There was music playing in the square across the street. Good, dancing, music...but I was thirsty. So, after a quick internet search, I settled on Wright & Co, restaurant and bar. 

An example of the
murals I refer too.

  What I remember most from my walk to and from the bar is the street art. There are murals everywhere. Not just graffiti, but really awesome murals (Oh, yeah, don’t let me forget to tell you about Diego Rivera’s murals later).  An abandoned apartment buildings window’s had been painted with signs of love. It made my heart swell and my mind wander around the idea that so many of us are worn down and broken or straight up busted... but still so full of love to share. The residents here really love their city.

Abandoned 'love'
building

I stopped in a shop across from the abandoned building and picked up this awesome shirt by Law of Attraction (a clothing line for bad ass women). 

learning how to be
a Redwings fan :)

  Earlier this year a coworker was nice enough to take me and a few others out to a Redskins game (my first hockey game ever!). I asked him to take the scenic route. (Ya’ll know I love exploring and learning shit.) 

 As we drove around, he explained that a few short years ago downtown was a dead zone. And very dangerous. He said that there we no open restaurants, no shopping, and most of the high rises were unoccupied. You didn’t see anyone walking around after work. And when he went to a game (the Tiger’s, Lion’s, and Redwing’s stadiums are all in downtown, how cool is that?), it was straight to the stadium, and straight home afterwards. In my experience, most people still perceive Detroit this way. I get a lot of winces and comments on how "brave" I am to work up here.

  Yes, Detroit is still a dangerous place. But all major cities are dangerous. Hell, all cities and non cities are dangerous... its an effing jungle out here in the world. Just use common sense, and keep an eye out for predators. Okay, I better get back to the point, before I rant.

Wright & Co

  So, beer. Wright’s reminded me of Highwire Lounge (a bar in my hometown of Athens, GA). The (exclusively male) sharply dressed bartenders served an extensive variety of specialty cocktails, beers, and wines in their hipster haircuts. Their crisp white sleeves rolled up just enough to expose a tattoo or two, proving that they were cool, AND well dressed. Yeah, I’m poking a little for fun, but my bartender was great. I told him what I liked, and he produced a delicious stout that was exactly what I was craving. I ordered the goat cheese dates (which were ah-mazing). So good. 

a little up river

  I made friends with the couple sitting on my right. They lived downriver (which apparently means a little south, and a little west), and where up for the game. The husband was the ‘foodie’, and they shared a LONG list of restaurants and breweries that I am excited to check out on my upcoming trips. When they left, I read my book for about half an hour before heading out. (For you beginner/intermediate riders out there who want to study riding technique, check out this book I'm reading: Total Control, High Performance Street Riding Techniques.)

  Walking back to the car, I marveled at the amount of road construction. It's everywhere. I know the city was (is?) broke, but I thought the state paid to repair roads?? My one genuine compliant about Detroit is the condition of the roads. Braking ridges, pot holes, and just AWFUL roads up here. Originally, I thought I might ride Welly up here for one of my trips, but the hazards in the roads changed (even) my mind. I normally have a devil may care attitude, but damn. 

music in the square

  I knew the basic direction I needed to travel to find the rental car, and just after I got my phone out for directions I heard the music again. That sweet, soulful kind of music that automatically sets your toes to tapping. I quite literally boogied my way back to the little shaded square, claimed a spot on the low stone wall, and enjoyed the show for a little while. They covered an old Bob Marley song, Turn Your Lights Down Low. 

Here is a Lauryn Hill version that sounds like the one the street artists performed:

  On the way back to the hotel, I stopped at Kroger and picked up a container of dates. There is a huge middle eastern population here (I hear highest per capita in the US), which I put in the “pros” column because it means cheap and awesome vegetarian food whenever I want it and a huge selection of foods that I don't have readily available at home. I can't wait to make bacon covered goat cheese dates for someone I love. (Yep, I just used bacon and vegetarian in the same paragraph.)

Diego Rivera's mural

That famous thinkin'
man at the DIA

  Oh! Before I close, on previous trips I've hit up the Detroit Institute of Art and The Henry Ford Museum. I recommend both. But if you have to chose, visit the DIA. I was lucky enough to get to see the Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo exhibit. Rivera’s mural is a permanent fixture in the courtyard, and is awe-inspiring. Part political message, and part historical lesson Rivera spent over a year working on it. He and Frida lived in Detroit while Kahlo produced some of her most famous pieces. (I didn’t really know what an awesome chick she was until I walked through this exhibit.) I spent the whole day there. Other exhibits I particularly: the Africa to Asia and in between, and the photographs of local Detroitians (what do ya’ll call yourselves?).

George Washington's
camp trunk and
bed roll.

  The Henry Ford Museum was really cool too. They have some HUGELY MASSIVELY BIG early steam engines in the Made in America exhibit that I thought were cool. Outside of motorcycles, I’m not much of a gear-head, but I enjoyed the car collection.  The Presidential Limo that Kennedy rode in when he was assassinated is part of the car collection... I ate lunch at Lamy’s café (Lamy is a favorite nickname for someone I love, so that made me homesick.) Ooooh, the airplane collection was kinda cool. AND, they have the bus that Rosa Parks was riding on when she made history. It was really cool, you can get on the bus and sit in the same seat she did.

Allegheny, the largest
locomotive ever built. It
could pull trains over
2 miles in length!

Yep. One of the
last originals :)

 Okay. This is getting to be really long... so I will close. I hope that sharing my perspective on Detroit has provided a a viewpoint that changes your perception of the Motor City. 

See ya'll on the road, 
~Amanda

Motochicks' Iron Butt Run- 24 hours to ride 1000 miles on our motorcycles

Midnight- Ten-X campground near Tusayan, AZ

The campground is silent now that our neighbors generator has shut off. I've been silently tapping away, editing and publishing a post. I have the tablet dimmed all the way so I can occasionally daze up at the stars as I write. Tomorrow morning we start our Iron Butt Run to my grandmother's home in Nebraska. The Iron Butt is challenge for motorcyclists to ride 1000 miles within 24 hours. I'm learning a lot about my limits on this trip, physical and mental.

The juniper and ponderosa pines form a black turtle shaped frame around the stars as I tilt my head back, trying to find the flow of words for you. The ride from the canyon rim was eventful. The clerk at the Texaco in Tusayan was unspeakably rude to Margie.  We picked up some beer at the Trading Post, and Margie found me a souvenir squirrel to tack to my bike, a personal reminder of traveling safely on two wheels. I made peace with some of my life decisions when we spooked two elk foraging along the road. The young bull spun on his haunches and headed into the forest, the brown cow following suit.

Gary, our witness at Grand Canyon 

It was so warm today... I can't believe how quickly it got cold. The desert continues to surprise and delight me as I learn about its nuances. I want to stay up and write about the sounds of the forest, and the cold that has very quickly settled into my fingers. I better spend some time looking at the back of my eyelids,  Margie mentioned starting at sunrise.  Which I'm sure will be stunning.

930am- Pipe Creek Vista on East Rim Dr, AZ

Yeah, that didn't happen.  The air was cool and crisp when we poked our noses out of our sleeping bags. We bundled up and slept in for a few hours. And as quickly as the cold slipped in last night, the temperature gauge climbed as we packed quickly and carefully. We pulled into Pipe Creek Vista and got our documentation for the Iron Butt witnessed by Gary from Tennessee :)

Margie turned on the SPOT so we'll have an exact GPS location (SPOT is a device that emails your loved ones with locations. But it can also notify emergency personnel if needed, even post to Google maps and Facebook). Time to get moving :)

hippy motochick working girl

10 am- Roadside Artists Market on Hwy 64 

Okay, so TWO stops before we need fuel... I know! So far we aren't making the best time. But I may not return to the Grand Canyon for a long time. The first stop is Desert View Watchtower on the South Rim. We didn't even made it out of the park, haha. The view was just too staggering to pass by. The golds and reds of the canyon face dance under the sun, teasing my imagination, making me daydream about cowboys and indians.

great big world

I found this butterfly in my boot in
Sequoia NP when I picked it 

I'm sitting at the base of a HUGE sequoia. The Giant Forest reminds me of Joyce Kilmer forest back closer to home. (I am getting more homesick every day.) The trees themselves have that silent strength that reminds me of my fragility. No matter how deep and strong my roots, these massive beasts will be here long after my roots return to the earth. And I love that :) Margie stayed at the entrance of the park to have lunch with a friend. I thought we were going to ride straight through and head to Yosemite, but it was an amazing ride in, and it's nice to sit in the forest and write alone.

Napa Vally scenery

 Yesterday morning we pointed our bikes to Yosemite National Park and waved bye to Dave and Posey, rested and fresh. We got to ride through the Eucalyptus Trees again (sigh :) Napa Valley was... oookay... The scenery was mostly golden grassy hills with occasional grape vines, low scrub trees, with the occasional eucalyptus tree. Traffic was congested. Hwy 12 moved slowly. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I was in a different mood (maybe a wine drinking mood ;)

 But I wanted to be at Yosemite already ("Are we there yet?") and had more than one conversation with myself about patience and how I want to live to be an old-lady motochick. Margie's been teaching me a lot about how to be safe. I'm thinking about doing a post entirely composed of the things I've learned on this trip relating to motorcycle travel and safety. Maybe when I get home and get some sleep.

Enjoying the fresh air in Yosemite

We arrived at Yosemite late afternoon,  and I could have spent a month there. I don't even know how to describe it. The road into the valley floor twisted and turned like only National Park roads do (preserving as much of the natural landscape as possible, I assume). It took us through some fun tunnels too. I really enjoy the sound my bike makes in tunnels as it roars powerfully :)

watching the waves roll in

 When I first dreamed of riding my motorcycle across the country, my destination was to be the Pacific Coastal Highway. I'd never been west of Colorado, and the PCH seemed like an exotic, fun, new adventure. The PCH, also known as Route 1, runs north along the California coast from Los Angeles. The highway offers stunning views of the ocean and mountains. Just stunning. We got some video on the GoPro, but you can't see the water... The water... oh the water. The way the waves crashed on the rocks made me wish I had an afternoon or fifty to sit on the Pacific Coast and watch the waves roll in. I heard a long time ago that you should "live in California once... but leave before it makes you soft." If I didn't have such deep rooting in Georgia,  I might live here for a while. Just to watch the waves roll in..

Jake and I at lunch

 Luckily, Margie and I had a friend move to the PCH area a few years ago. Jake graciously took timeout of his day to lead us around to the good lunch spot and up the highway. The road wasn't all beach front, some of it went through farmland that makes up a large part of California... we traveled pasta strawberry farm that smaller like HEAVEN.

 Sadly, I didn't get to see the Big Sur area during daylight. Such is the nature of traveling on a motorcycle I guess. And honestly, it was a rough day emotionally. The views and the company were beyond spectacular,  but the PCH is the furthest from my home that I could get, and stay on this continent. And I've started feeling my home pulling on my heart. I miss my dogs. I can't wait to bury my face in Cyrus' neck. I'm sure he STANKS  after being on my folks' farm for the last few weeks, and Dobby, the little asswipe, I am so excited to see that pup. Dammit :)

Hurricane Amanda

 Three thousand three hundred and twenty-nine miles from the East Coast in Georgia to the West Coast in California :)

 After we parked in San Diego I slept for a two hours and then we were up and being productive. I was staying with a Sergeant Major, I didn't want him to think I was a pussy ;) Hey I was raised by veterans- these are my people. Of all the different types of people in the world, I am most comfortable around service members. I understand their language.

 We took my bike down to Eason at House of Motorcycles in San Diego. My mechanic in El Paso told me I would need a new tire soon. Also I lost a bolt in my kickstand somewhere along the highway. I really needed that replaced so I didn't have to hunt down a rock to keep my bike and heavy bags from falling over when we stopped for fuel. And San Diego was the logical place to get it because we were gonna hang out with Margie's bad ass cousin all day. Those guys really took care of me. I explained that I was only in town for the day. They don't service Ducatis so they couldn't fix my leak, which is fine since I really would like Vic or Daniel from NPRDucati to fix it back home. But they set me up with a tire and bolt for a reasonable price. Nolan (the mechanic who serviced my bike) even noticed that I was missing a clip on my chain and fixed it for me. I was really happy with my experience there, if you need work while you're passing through San Diego, I highly recommend them.

 After dropping it off we went to lunch at Cafe Elysa. I ordered the eggs benedict and they were delicious. I understand that all their ingredients are locally sourced. Eggs, bacon and sausage, watermelon and strawberries,  everything was grown or produced in California. The cafe was a block from the Pacific Ocean so we walked to their and I got to put my toes in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life. I felt accomplished. I have always told myself that I could accomplish anything I set my mind too, and I'm really starting to believe it :)

 We returned to Calvin's home where we loaded up the surfboards. And headed back out for the beach for my introduction to surfing!!!! Now, in case you are reading this and you don't know me well, I have a crippling fear of being in water when I cannot see the bottom. When I'm swimming in deep water, I start to hyperventilate, my muscles stop responding to commands from my brain...it's not a pleasant experience. But, I figured if I could ride 800 miles in a day on a motorcycle, cross the country on bike, and all that entails, there were worse ways to go than having a creature swim up from the depths and eat me. And somehow I was able to master my fear, at least for a little while. Not that I'm fearless, by any means. But I'm certainly different, changed.

 Plus it helped that Calvin truly is a badass. He has a Purple Heart and a slew of other awards from his service. I wanted to do a whole paragraph on just his life, because he's had a fascinating, albeit tragic career, but he asked me not to. I've found members of the service are often hesitant to allow others to brag on them. I want to tell the world some of their stories because I feel like the majority of the population doesn't know what's it's like to be in the military. I certainly didn't (even though my parents and several other people in my life served), we just don't talk about it. I knew this trip would change my perspective of my country. The landmarks and wonders of the world have been everything and more than I expected. But I wasn't prepared to learn so much about the military.  The lifestyle, the sacrifices,  the rewards. I am soooo glad we are raising money for The Wounded Warrior Project, because it makes it easy to bring the military into my conversations with people. I have learned so much. I get to talk to people about the military who aren't exposed to military in everyday life.

 If you want to learn a little about Sgt Maj, you can read here, but know that he is so much more than even that bio could describe. I was truly honored to spend time with him, learn from him, and  I knew the Loch Ness and Great Whites would sense Calvin's powerful presence and stay away. (I felt safe with him.)

 The first Pacific Hurricane of the season was sitting off the coast of Southern California. The National Weather Service named her Hurricane Amanda. I shit you not. She did not come to land, and she didn't push up crazy waves to surf on. The National Hurricane Center said "Amanda is now the strongest May hurricane on record in the eastern Pacific basin during the satellite era." She reached a category 5 in strength with winds up to 155 miles per hour. I should stop by a track and see if I can get up to that speed just for kicks and giggles. Wellington would top out, but maybe I could convince Margie to let me borrow her Duc Hyper 1100.

 I didn't stand up on the surfboard. I barely got to where I could balance without flipping my board over. I caught two waves for a few seconds and immediately fell over. But I stayed in the water and tried until my muscles started betraying me by cramping up. Surfing is one of those things that people make look easy. It was an effing workout. Calvin caught a few waves, the three of us smoked cigars on the beach. I walked a little and found a cool rock to take home to my mother, Margie and Calvin caught up more, as families do when they spend years apart :) 

Lastly,  I did get to try In and Out Burger. So many people told me to try it that I caved on my commitment to only eat at mom/pop restaurants. We added some jalapeños Calvin had for extra kick. It woulda been awesome without them, but y'all know I like spice ;)

Next update will be about our ride up the Pacific Coastal Highway!

~Amanda Terranova

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all my loving

 We slept in yesterday (this is the best thing about not having a set route or timetable). I knew we were planning on staying two nights on Brett's couch because we wanted to spend some time with him. (Also I needed him to make sure Wellington's oil leak wasn't going to cripple our trip - he entered my life as my moto-mechanic at NPRDucati and became my friend). So Margie and I stayed up late catching up with Brett, even after traveling 800 miles :) I think we may try to qualify for Iron Butt on the way home.

 So we moved leisurely to his favorite shop Ace Moto. Where we washed the bikes, shared our story, and talked about The Wounded Warrior Project. Looks like Welly's oil leak is going to survive the trek back across the country (crosses fingers). And the guys from Ace took us to Tony's BBQ for lunch (Thank you Ace and Chop!) where I had this magical dish called a hash burrito. I don't know or care what kind of meat it is because it was effing delicious. A little burnt and crunchy. Yum! (Turns out it is the fat and trimmings from their delicious brisket chopped and cooked again... which explains why it was so amazing.)

 While we were at Ace's I met Keith,  a local El Pasian(?) who possesses a wealth of knowledge about fun riding in the area (mostly in the mountains to the north in NM).  We left Brett to help with some bikes at Ace's and set out to follow Keith around to a few of El Paso's motorcycle shops. It sucks that the US ships so many of our men and women out to that desert (I was told Fort Bliss was the largest training facility our country has). It was midafternoon, and Margie and I were following Keith down the interstate....along this stark, beautiful, desert mountain terrain. I kept looking at the mountains, thinking that there had to be a fun road to ride up there.... a dirt road or SOMETHING. Suddenly, Keith made a left turn and we were riding into the hills. From what I could tell, we rode the ONE curvy road in that desert to Santa Teresa Motorsports. It had long fast sweepers and lots of scenery to look at. I bet the view from up there is phenomenal at night... all the dancing lights of El Paso, Fort Bliss, and Juarez.

 I'm really looking forward to my next trip out west (yeah, I'm dreaming already.... :) because of all the awesome people I've met along the way. Like Diego at Santa Teresa Motorsports who seems like a riot. And Tiffany at Freeway Powersports- who gave me her personal cell number in case we ran into trouble as we crossed New Mexico and Arizona.

 Unfortunately,  El Paso doesn't seem like the greatest place to live. Brett told me about the hail and hellish dust storms. The lack of curvy roads made me ache for Georgia.  But the people who live there are really cool. And the food... they can effing cook. The three of us (Brett, Margie, and I) even found some decent jazz music at The Black Orchid (though we were slightly under dressed in our tshirts). It was fun hanging out with Brett's Army buddies and gave me a lot of food for thought heading into Memorial Day.

 Margie was able to convince Brett to miss Five Finger Death Punch and join us for the next leg of our trip. I don't know how she did it- the woman's got skills. Especially considering he spends a lot of time "camping" in the desert for the Army already. And we headed out for Truth or Consequences, NM. Yes, a town exists called Truth or Consequences. It's in New Mexico. We found a campground on the Rio Grande River and set up camp.

Brett's bad ass ride for the 
day- a Royal Enfield, you can find them 
in El Paso at Ace Moto

  Camping in the desert is not for sissies. But the rewards are more than enough to make up for the weather. The weather during the day was glorious.  The sunset lit up the mountains,  giving them a golden-red glow. It was picturesque. And I have seen more wildflowers in the desert than back home. Purples, oranges,  yellows... There's all sorts of cacti blooming too. At night, the wind picked up something fierce and it rained. It was cold, very cold. Very. I think I got probably three hours of sleep.

 Strangely, I woke refreshed. It might be the exhilarating adventure or something like it. But no matter how little I sleep I always have more than enough energy for the next leg... oh, and coffee, lots of black, delicious, coffee. If you find yourself in Truth or Consequences look up Happy Belly Deli for really good healthy food options. I hope you do find yourself there at least once :)

 In the morning we said goodbye to our Private First Class and hit Hwy 152 into Gila National Forest. Where we finally found some curves, they almost reminded me of the Tail Of the Dragon on the North Carolina/Tennessee border. I'm not an advanced rider by any means (I finally feel like a solid intermediate three years after I got my license and probably 15 to 20 thousand miles or so on two wheels.), and I'm still learning how to straighten out a curve and ride turns with a decreasing radius. I could've ridden those roads for days, but we have a mission to see the Pacific Coast and get home to our families, friends, pups, and beds.

Arizona. .. or New Mexico, I can't remember

If you must cross Arizona on a bike, I recommend making the leg at night. Yeah, we missed some awesome scenery, but the part we rode in the afternoon was miserably hot. It heat sedated me and made me groggy after my sleepless night on the ferocious Rio Grande. The terror of watching a dust storm, crossing the sand, gaining speed, heading for my line was exhausting (it never before occurred to me that I could run out of throttle when I needed it). At night the weather cooled a little, and lights danced on the horizon again, reminding me of the ride into El Paso.

Sunset just outside of Phoenix

 I'd planned to stop for the night in Yuma, AZ. But when we pulled in to fuel up around 10pm the gas station attendant told us that the temperature reached 107°F during the day and it was still 101°F. Our air cooled bikes don't work well at high temperatures,  so after a very short powwow (me:"fuck that" Margie:"lets ride") and a long break, we pushed off.

  Cleveland National Forest, the park, reservation, and mountainous area just east of San Diego has elevations that reach 4000+ feet. The constant blast of cold air was a bit of a shock after the heat of the desert.  It was probably close to three in the morning by that point, so the cold helped keep me awake. I suspect the park would've topped my list of favorite rides so far if I had chosen to stop and change into my warm clothes. But I'd gotten to a point where I just wanted to get to the coast. I'm more than a little stubborn, driven, ambitious,  headstrong, whatever.

 Oh, there was one eerie event in those mountains. So the leg through Cleveland was dangerous. There were high winds trying to blow us of the mountains, lots of risky turns and bridges. Luckily, the cold air kept us sharp. All of a sudden, I had a thought- Slow down a little and watch for animals that inhabit the wilderness. Not 60 seconds later, just out of the next curve, a creature lumbered across my line. If I hadn't slowed on the other side of the mountain, if would've been right in the middle of my road. I didn't get a good look at it in the darkness, but it was a dark gray/brown, I would guess between 35 to 50 pounds, and lumbered like a racoon as it ran. I felt like mother nature was really taking care of us, ensuring our safe arrival to the coast. I will return to that place, (maybe for a pack in camping trip?) it has a special magic.

 I was just ready to be here :) The sun was coming up when we parked the bikes, I'm going to sleep for a few hours and play in the Pacific Ocean "tomorrow."

~Amanda Terranova

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HERE

hells belles

 Margie and I rode about 800 miles yesterday. Through my favorite part of the new land so far  (well, new to me ;) . Mateo, our new friend in Victoria, highly recommended we stop in Goliad on our way out of town. Goliad was a fort back when the Texians were fighting the Mexicans for independence and the location of an old spanish mission, dating back to the 1700's. After the Alamo fell, the leader and about 300 troops retreated to Victoria.  However, surrendered to Mexican forces who had overtaken them in Goliad,  about 20 miles or so west of Victoria. It is believed that the terms of the negotiation included the men were to be treated of prisoners of war, however, on the 27th of March 1836, they were ordered executed. This is where the battle cry "Remember Goliad! Remember the Alamo!" came from. The mission is also very cool, and the staff was very friendly. I wonder if they have camping, might be a fun place to stop in the future.

The ride to San Antonio was cool and overcast. That part of the state, the land is mostly used fracking (from what I was told Victoria population is booming because of it) but it looks like farmland to me. Big trucks with cattle catchers driving around, hauling tractors and what not. It reminded me of Sidney, Iowa where I have family. Some hills, fun and easy to ride.

Oh a word about driving in Texas. People will PULL OFF THE ROAD to let you pass. Granted, the shoulder is wide enough that they don't have to go in the dirt, but still. I've even had semi's coming the opposite direction drive onto the shoulder to help me avoid the wind blast that attacks you when driving around a big semi truck. It is amazing. And the speed limit- the speed limit is somewhere about 65 to 80 in between towns. Margie and I made good time in Texas ;)

LEGO scientist at the fort in Goliad

 Now, Nick, (who works at Transportation Revolution,  the Ducati dealership in New Orleans) is my new favorite person. While I had my map spread out on the floor, he suggested that we ride through Alpine and Marfa on Hwy 90, and stop to look around. I am SOOOO glad he did, because we were planning on crossing West Texas on Interstate 10. From what I understand,  I 10 is a gas desert. Several people told me the ride through West Texas was awful. "Its was the armpit of the world" and "you don't know how far you've gone because the mile you're driving looks exactly like every mile for the last hundred. And every mile for the next hundred looks exactly the same."

 On this trip I've realized on this trip highways are a better ride because those roads were originally paved when people took drives for pleasure. Likewise, the interstates were paved for convenience and practicality.
   


 Back to the ride, Hwy 90 from San Antonio to Marfa has been my favorite stretch of road thus far. Admittedly, part of this has to be that the terrain is so completely different than Georgia. The desert scrub and wildlife give me so much to look at that I am usually surprised when it's time to stop for fuel ("What? Already?"). Honestly, I thought by this point I would have dug out my ear buds out of boredom,  but today is day 7 and I'm still rocking the earplugs. The roads are windy and lonely. They are cut through and careen around desert mountains. The colors are mostly reds and browns. The foliage is green but it's a different shade, it's more dull. The rocky desert terrain builds into mountains dispersed through flat scrub land. Just outside of Del Rio, we crested a hill coming around a curve to the most pristine lake I have ever seen.  Amistad Reservoir and Recreation Area out in the middle of the desert is turquoise. It was mostly deserted (ha:), I saw one lonely sailboat on the entire expanse of the lake. So many places to see.... and to return to one day :)

Tax dollars at work

 As the day wore on and the miles passed under our tires, the sun started setting on the horizon. We literally chased the glorious sunset through the desert. And pulled into a Alpine TX diner for dinner. We've been eating mostly protein bars during the day and stuffing down a huge meal at night at a mom and pop restaurant. This is usually an easy way to guarantee a good meal. This one, for example, had an amazing jalapeño burger.

Just as I was about to pack my dogs up and move to Alpine, on the road between Alpine and Marfa, I got a reminder that Texas isn't idealistic. It was just dark, there was a truck parked on the side of the road. And just before we blew past I watched a man in a green shirt yank a woman in a white tank around by her arm.  Her head jerked sideways and her hair flew. I wouldn't say it ruined Texas for me....  but it did challenge my brain and broke my heart a little.

We've been meeting a lot of really cool people
on the road :)

 Hwy 90 turned north and straightened out as we drew closer to El Paso. The memory of the couple fighting at the truck faded as I watched lights dance beyond the horizon. We'd been warned to keep an eye out for the deer, elk, and jackrabbits. But we didn't have any trouble with any crossing our path. The country is flat and very dark. It was so flat that I could see the glow from headlights of approaching cars over the curvature of the earth. It took me a while to figure this out because they looked , like a fog of light, and when they finally broke the horizon, they looked like a tiny little candle. Minutes passed and we were moving fast. After a while, the "flame" grew, and I started to wonder what the f*ck is that? More miles past (to give you an idea of the expanse of this sky), and the flame finally broke into a recognizable two lights.  The stars were out and to the north of us there was a breathtaking storm, the lightning blew up the clouds, making me think of Zeus riding a cloud and throwing the bolts around :)

  I really REALLY enjoyed riding through the desert at night. The city lights as we approached El Paso danced in the distance. Yes we decided to push through and ride to El Paso! As I said earlier, it was about 800 miles. And I could've kept going, but we were happy to see our friendly face in the city.

Talk to you soon!

Until tomorrow,
~Amanda Terranova

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