Morning at America’s Best Value And Worst Inn met me with rain and 50 degree temps. Looking around the room at all my possessions strewn about after a night of drying out with the heater, I was less than inspired to pack it all up and head off in a full rain for Texas.
I finally got enough gumption to get dressed, layered up and eventually got all the gear back on the bike before seeking gas. I had a bit of consternation because the previous night, my Bags Connection tank bag, which attaches by quick mount ring over the gas cap, had become a total bee-otch and wouldn’t detach for anything. After a long day of cold rain I was not in the mood to mess with it and almost took my boot to it to knock it off. I had finally gotten it loose with the sheer force of my curse words, which must have made a small sonic boom and freed the mechanism.
Anyway the bag seemed to work fine at the gas station and I motored on for Texas through the dreaded “safety zone” on NM 87. After years of 50 miles per hour limits, I was pleasantly surprised to find they’d raised it a bit.
In the rain and side winds, I had plenty of time to think about and rehearse the trip in my mind. As the Texas border inched closer, I began seeing a patch of blue in the clouds ahead. By the time I hit the border, the sun was fully out and the skies were blue with high clouds. After a couple of days of chill and rain, it was a bright spot to ease the sadness of getting back to Texas after such amazing scenery and experiences.
The heat began in earnest by the time I crossed back into the Lone Star State and made Dalhart. At the local McDonald’s I stripped off the rain gear and a few layers of UnderArmor and Nike Combat. Then headed inside for a quick lunch.
When my order came I went to the condiment station for a bit of ketchup for my fries. At the counter, there were two little girls from a Mennonite (or similar) family trying to get ketchup at the condiment station. Both were wearing full length dresses and one was about 4 years old and the other probably 3 or so. The 4 year old was barely able to reach the ketchup spigot and was filling her little paper cup standing on tiptoes. Her little sister was much smaller and could barely get her hand on top of the counter while searching for a paper cup for ketchup. I slid the stack of cups over to her hand where she grabbed one and then attempted to reach the spigot to no avail. I looked down at the 4 year old girl who was still running the ketchup out and all over the side of her cup and hand. She looked up at me with the most serious expression, staring me directly in the eyes and said slowly and sincerely, "Isn't McDonald's great?"
I almost burst out laughing but kept a serious look and said to her "Yes, it sure is." She continued to stare as if making sure I was being honest, then went back to running the ketchup all over her hand.
I had been dreading the final day back to the Dallas area, but was thankful the heat was not in the 100’s as my original 600 mile day out of Texas had been.
The miles rolled by slowly as the terrain stayed the same - flat and endless, broken only by the occasional gully or canyon unseen across the flat scape.
"Toto, we're not in Montana anymore"
By the time I hit Wichita Falls for gas, I was beginning to feel the exhaustion of the 6000 mile trip. Checking my phone, as luck would have it, a friend and some family were at the Fort Worth Stockyards that afternoon, so I detoured there to see them and spend some time to celebrate my adventure.