Date: Fri, 7 Feb 1997 12:29:34 -0500 From: Charlie Ford Subject: Westward Hoe!!! Wednesday; This morning I awoke early to cloudy skies and the sincere threat of snow on Llama Mountain. The wind blew hard and the clouds rushed about like builders trying to contruct a large boll of cotton. The skies to the west looked ominous and full of mystery. Over the past few days I have had the privilege to sit on a front porch witha million dollar view. From Ted Allens porch you could see approximately 120 miles and distinguish landmarks that told where you were looking. Landmarks like the mountains that rise just a few miles east of Albequerque which ly a couple hundred miles to the south of where i stood. At night you could make out the twinkling lights of cities some 50 miles away. This was another the stoop for the lower floor of heaven. Along with the pleasure always is some pain. I have had the honor and privilege of having to use an outhouse in thirty degree weather and suffered the painful yet invigorating agony of taking a lukewarm bath, this in itself teaches one many things like the rule of getting to the job at hand, secondly it teaches one's that anatomy can imitate the turtle and withdraw into hiding in such cool temperatures. When one is already minute ths is somewhat scary. In this part of the country one does not perspire much, if any. The air is dry and crisp in winter. On the coolest days one contends more with the ever-constant wind than with the low temperatures. Up here a smoker smokes less, a fast gate becomes a slow pace, and eventually you begin to notice the view less and the solitude more. The stars at night, unencumbered by the flood of city lights, impress on you the feeling that you are nothing more than a speck on the face of the universe. This feeling is felt even stronger by someone that has spent a long period of time under those strings of street lights that we see in any amjor or minor city. I sincerely enjoyed my visit with my good friend Ted, a person I have always felt a certain kinship with. But this morning as I woke, I felt the urge to "go a wanderin". I got up, froze my tata in the shanty facilities, had a cup of coffee with Ted while explaining the sudden need to vacate for further adventure, and started packing up my gear. Before I knew it I was in my bus headed back down hwy. 64 toward Taos. My final destination for this leg would be Winslow Arizona where I have relatives I have never met. I stopped in Taos, picked up piece for my bike my one and only souvineer, pointed my bus southward on Hwy 68, and proceeded to drive. After being settled in for yet another week I almost had to get used to the Mothership again. The mechanic tuned the bus to purr like she hasn't before. The new engine sound had to be made one once again with my being, or should I say I had to become one with her. All VW owners know that you feel the quality of operation with your whole being. Sort of a metaphysical experience. I eagerly drove along Hwy 68 through Pilar, last weeks homeplace. As I passed through at the blinding "speed of the sound of lonliness", approximately 45 mph, and even though there was no one out and about that would or could wave back, I gave Pilar a Hearty Charlie Wave, which is no less welcoming than any marching band ever seen. I streaked right on through listening for wierd noises to start in my bus. None were felt and as the altitude dropped, the power increased. Life is good on the road to Sante Fe. I drove the Rio Grande Gorge all the way to Espaniola. I had heard bad things about this little city, like gringo's are not safe there, and This area is where cars are stolen. I am not sure they are true but nevertheless I kept driving and didn't stop till I was in the capitol city of Sante Fe, NM. There I pulled into one of these cheezy, sell all korean made indian type handmade souvineers. I am running low on money so I wasn't going to purchase anything so I did it in the name of adventure and letting the Mothership take a rest. Greed fills these type places like no other place on earth, and I was sucked in by her trap, I bought a pack of authentic Wrigleys Juicy Fruit gum. and on I went to find adventure and search for the beginning of wind. Little did I know that strong wind again was in my path, and was going to face me head-on once again. As soon as I emerged from the Rio Grande gorge I was assaulted with gales, blast and gusts of 10 to 30 mile an hour wind. The Mothershop moved on the road like a Phil Niekro knuckle ball, but never once sputtered at the invisible syrup that moved against her. She paced along nicely. I stopped just west of Albequerque at a dew-drop-in truckstop to rest my arms and cool her jets. There was an indian lady running the store I chose to enter. The first thing I noticed about her was her beautiful face, then my world fell apart. She smiled and the evidence of very bad dental care came to light, she was missing a few bi-cuspits and a couple of hetero-cuspits to. Then her husband emerged from the backroom. A small wiry man with only three teeth on top and all of them on bottom. I kept expecting a toothless child or two to come out, but I ended up settling for the 6 tooth couple that stood before me. A dentist dream these two could be. I bought a bottle of water, a new tube of toothpaste, some floss (never can have enough), cranked The Mothership and headed on west. I brushed my teeth while I drove. In Albequerque I picked up I 40 and headed due west. This honestly is one of the nicer drives so far. You see red rock cliffs that shine like copper in the afternoon sun. Now they are scattered with trailors and shacks that house either the native americans or whoever has come here to find independence from the hustle of city life. You look at the cliffs and caves and strewn rocks and think of all the westerns you have ever seen or read and now you are here. This is indian land, and it is as real, as it is mysterious, as it is beautiful. It is haunting, yet enchanting. These days the route is polluted with indian trinket souvineer signs, in order to see the landscape you must learn to look past these. It is enough to make you want to try and create a bill to outlaw them. here on the reservations these signs are contructed by individual tribes-people themselves. I spoke with one native that said this breed of indian lives closer to the lessor spirit than the great spirit. He stated that they have fallen to the same spirit of greed that drove the white man to take the native land from there ancestors. He expressed a sadness for the lack of pureness in the tribe of the 20th century. I expressed my apologies and left. I have always felt that we did the native american wrong, and now I am sure of it. I drove to Gallup New Mexico which is located about twenty miles from the Arizona State line, found a truckstop and crashed for the night. I was glad to be on the road again and as I reflected I realized that in the morning I would wake to a different scenery in a differnt place further west than where I had began my days travels. farther into the abyss. Thursday morning I woke about 7:00. I slept fairly good and dreamed fairly vividly about various episodes of either lust or adventure. When you are alone and 2000 miles from any woman you know intimately then I guess these type of dreams are bound to happen and to be honest they are quite pleasant, at least until you wake up. I found a shower as soon as possible. After my shower, a cup of coffee and danish, I headed for the State of Arizona and what lie between Gallup and Winslow. I hit snow at the stateline but not enough to slow me. I drove along at 65 while truckers past me doing 75. Many waved as they past and were sure to swing out to give me room because the wind was roughing me up a bit. Some called me on the Cb to find out what the hell some guy from Georgia was doing out here in the high desert in a VW bus, others just took me as a menace to making their time and blew past me like there was no tomorrow. All in all I still believe the trucker is my friend. I stopped by the petrified forest and viewed the museum. Arizona is full of petrified stone and there are several forest that lay on private property. the fee was 10.00 just to drive through, so I passed it up for lack of funds. I hated to do it, but that ten bucks might take me another hundred miles or so and help me to meet 20 more plain americans. I love nature, but my searches truth lay in it's people, not in its stone. I drove on westward. I arrived in Winslow around 12:00 noon. I called my cousin and I am staying at thier place tonight. Jim and Annette raise champion bloodline Siberian Huskies and three children. If any of you ahve seen the movie "Iron Will", those dogs are from this kennel. She has dogs right now in three commercials and two movies. They are a very fine looking animal. My other local kin has horses so in a few days I can go for a ride in the desert. I am looking forward to that. I wander if I can sit as tall in the saddle as John Wayne, but then can anyone even expect to do that? Thanks for tolerating my ramblings, Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"