The road down from Silverton was really cool, but no photos. We were on the way home, and a person's sense of wonder and exploration kind of dies down.

Forty-two years ago, I took another bike trip**, and wrote about it, quoting Steinbeck "...the lifespan of journeys ...seems to be variable and unpredictable. Who has not known a journey to be over and dead before the traveler returns?"

Well, the journey wasn't really dead, but we were going into Known Territory, so the picture taking slowed down.

But my ears perked up at this road sign on the way to a (probable, possible, likely) camp site north of Pagosa.

I slowed way down, but saw no hazard worse than what we'd been going through all trip.

"Yah" said Trev. "That sign's been there for years".

Oh well. Whatever.



Camped north of Pagosa, saw a yeti-like creature invading camp. No harm done. We gave him a beer and everything was cool. Wow, did he have stories to tell!

Down through Chama (NM) towards Abiquiu. Get that on your spelling test, eh?





On the way, there's a cool rest stop with an amphitheater. If I remember right, it's "pay if you stop and linger and look at stuff" but "you don't have to pay if you're just stopping to use the john". Ok with me. I peed with my eyes closed, and didn't take any pictures.







So onward to Espanola, the Lowrider Capital of theWorld.

Being mid-afternoon, there was not much cruiser activity, but there were some dark rainy clouds on the horizon.



Sitting in the shade, re-hydrating, I imparted some words of wisdom to my offspring, Trev. Wisdom derived from countless hours of encountering hazards and surmounting them by wit and finely-honed skills. Wisdom passed down through the ages by intrepid motorcycle riders.

We survived.



On to home....not much else to say except that Trev's second chili-cheese-fry evaluation came at the Mine Shaft Tavern in Madrid, NM. This is a really cool place, I think it has the longest (measured in feet) bar in NM. It's old, and is very interesting in that regard, but it's also interesting because of the current nature of Madrid. A mix of '60's hippies that call the place home (and have for 50 years), and some capitalist-hippies that see a big tourist potential and are trying to make a living off that. I once showed my bowls in one of the galleries there.

A very different type of place, and I'm thankful for it.


Oh, and the fries were great.

Well, that's just about 15 miles from home. This trip's over. Next one due..... oh, about four months from now.

We're done with this trip.
Thanks for coming along

Back to Bob's Personal Pages

** A 125 Honda, Detroit to San Diego, to Seattle, to Idaho. Road Rider Magazine, Sept. '76. Hopefully, I can glue together a web version of the article.