Our route for today is here.
Our cumulative route is here.
“I don’t think my gas tank holds enough to get to Del Rio.”
Man on Harley, at Sanderson gas station, opining about not being able to ride 120 miles on a tank of gas
We ended up giving him our Gatorade jug that helped us get across the Wyoming nothingness.
I really try to not be prejudiced against people who ride Harleys. But, wow. Coming down in the this part of the country on a road trip with a bike that has less than a 150 mile range for a tank of gas isn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever heard. Having to walk in this heat, in those leather chaps, would get old real fast!
Anyway, we left Carlsbad at 6 this morning and headed southeast. Our alarm clock was set to 5 but we awoke early to a stench of rotten egg smell. It made you want to ask, “Who farted?”
And then you remember all of the petroleum industry around southeast New Mexico, and you say, “Oh, Carlsbad farted.”
After crossing the Texas state line, we zoomed through Pecos and Fort Stockton.
After Fort Stockton, the land began to undulate and limestone outcroppings poked their heads through the cactus.
By the time we sighted Sanderson, we were in hills proper.
We had lunch at the local cafe and I had my first Chorizo. It tasted very good, much like chili. Yum yum.
No pics for today. So, I’ll leave you with a photo from our ride through Valle Vidal in the Carson National Forest we took last week.
