Day 13 - E.T. Call Home
(Gallup, N.M. to Ft. Stockton, TX, 508 miles)
Our Route Monday, August 5th , 2002
The weather was kind to us as we departed Gallup, N.M. early Monday morning. The previous night's rain had stopped but a layer of clouds and cool temperatures remained. The lack of oppressive heat was nice but the clouds were a real gift since they mercifully prevented the low morning sun from shining directly in our face as we motored east on I-40.
While cruising away from Gallup, I could not help but think about our vacation being almost over. It had been a wonderful time with breathtaking scenery and roads that were tailor made for motorcycling. With the exception of a quick tourist stop in Roswell, N.M., all that remained was to cover the 1000 miles to Houston on mostly boring, interstate highways.
Because I did not get to bed until sometime around 12 the previous night, I was more than a little behind on my rest. By mid morning I was already starting to yawn and just past Albuquerque I was starting to fight a serious case of the sleepies. Droning along on the boring interstate didn't help matters much nor did the fact that it was getting hotter and hotter as we dropped in altitude. There's nothing like the thought of falling asleep at the wheel of a motorcycle to give you pause for concern. By the time we reached our turnoff point at the little burg of Clines Corner, it was time to stop and rest. We wheeled into a combination curio shop, restaurant and gas station at the corner of I-40 and Highway 285 for a little R&R.
The curio shop was like a step back in time. It reminded me of the curio shops that one used to see along the major highways back in the late 50's and early 60's. The place was huge and was full of such things as rawhide bullwhips, plastic tomahawks, and every manner of small plastic toy and cheap, Indian jewelry.
The stop at Clines Corner was just what the doctor ordered. We sat in the restaurant for a while and had sweet rolls and coffee. While there I tried to catch a few winks of sleep while sitting up in the booth but had little success due to the noise in the place. After drinking as much coffee as I could stand and splashing some water on my face to wake up, we saddled up and headed south on Highway 285 for the 145 mile run into Roswell.
By late afternoon we arrived in Roswell. The first thing we did was to seek out a nice place to eat where we could get some "normal", non fast-food nourishment. We found what we were looking for at a Mexican restaurant on the north side of town. The meal was great and I actually managed to take a very short, badly needed nap while sitting in the booth.
After lunch it was time for our last tourist action of the trip.... a visit to the Roswell UFO museum. I've always wanted to see this place, not because I believe in extraterrestrial UFO's (which I don't), but because I just wanted see what they had exhibited and to say I'd been there. I've always found such psuedo-science amusing and I was not disappointed this time either. The museum was full of evidence that mainly consisted of loosely connected "facts" that exhibited glaring inconsistencies. As long as people are desperate to believe in something, such things will find appeal to a certain part of the population. Sometimes this desire to believe in something or someone fascinating when combined with ignorance can be deadly as was seen in the Hale-Bop mass suicide (see Note at the bottom of this page).
The UFO Museum, Roswell, New Mexico
The Roswellians have a sense of humor about their claim to fame. This restaurant was directly across the street from the UFO museum. The awning sign says "Just say no to Alien Abduction" and the window sign says "DEFENDING THE PLANET 'One tasty Beverage At A Time'"
Mick and his little buddy "E.T." in the UFO Museum. The little space critter was obviously attracted to the HiViz Aerostich riding jacket!
After we'd had our fill of UFO's, we hopped on our bikes and continued across the hot, New Mexico desert on Highway 285. We passed through the towns of Artesia and Carlsbad with me fighting sleep the whole way. Finally we crossed into Texas and made it to Pecos, where I stopped due to extreme thirst and sleepiness. This was the first day in almost 2 weeks that we had ridden in hot weather and we had gotten out of the habit of staying hydrated. I drank until my eyeballs were swimming then I performed one of my best, hot weather ridding tricks... I filled the front pockets of my 'Stich with ice. Our thirst quenched and my body cooled, we hit the road for the final 50 mile run to Fort Stockton. We pulled into Fort Stockton just before dusk and got a room at the Motel 6. At $33.50 per night, it turned out to be the cheapest motel of the trip. Shortly after arrival we made a bee line to the K-Bob's restaurant where we ate mass quantities of veggies at their killer salad bar.
What a day. It had been long, hot and mostly boring (but at least I got to see E.T.!! J ).
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NOTE: Excerpt from a website that discusses the Jim Jones and Hale-Bop mass suicides.
From the website http://tanadineen.com/COLUMNIST/Columns/Suicide.htm :
"Another genre - mass suicides - became big news with Jim Jones and his 900 followers in Jonestown in 1978. More recently it was the Heaven's Gate followers in California, who killed themselves believing that their deaths would get them on board the Hale Bop comet for a ride into the future."
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