Day 25 Thurs. Oct 9, 2008

From Springerville to Show Low 42 miles

The journey to Show Low is a very rough and windy ride. Approaching Show Low, the journey is a composition of rolling hills, in this case long distances of climbing into and around the slopes of an endless mountain range. The mountain surface is brown spotted with short tough green umbrella shaped pine trees and large boulders protruding the smooth brown slopes. I sometimes think I hear voices singing Home, Home on the Range, where the deer and the antelope play.

Today I stopped because about 200 yards away were 3 magnificent deer, blending with the surroundings save for their white chests. They paused from their grazing and looked at me as did I at them.

They had enough of me and turned around displaying their rear ends. They traveled a distance, and were quite sure I understood their insult, turned around to take their final gaze at me, then disappeared behind a ledge in the meadowland.

The signs on the road – Cross winds next 7 miles. Let me tell you, before that sign came into view, I knew full well they were in existence, because the narrow shoulders punctuated by those frequent gusts of wind made me aware. Lots and lots of howling spurts prevented me from hearing the traffic behind me. I soon began to experience white knuckles.

I had to ride over corrugated shoulders measuring 2 feet or less. The highway is elevated well over 18 inches from the gravel and leaves me insufficient space to wiggle with any amount of wind pressure from passing vehicles, especially when descending a slope.

Pam caught up with me on the road as I was climbing a slope. She too was alarmed by the frequency of the gusts of wind. I told her to go ahead and that I would call if I needed any help.

When I reached the summit I saw a small rest pit at the side of the road. As I approached it a motorcyclist and his wife, on one bike pulled over as I intended. We chatted for a while. They were on vacation and wanted to enjoy the sunny weather now cooled by the cold pacific jet stream.

They were riding the strangest, most technically built Honda I have ever seen. Sure it was the top of the line. Tom, I think that was his name, said it was designed just as the Golden Wing Honda except for the TV and other bells and whistles. It was a huge, fine machine. They paused to rest from the wind. I left them there, handing them each a card and continued on my way.

At Show Low we found a vacancy at Americas Best Value Inn. It is run by an Indian family as was the one we stayed in at Springerville. The room is designed for the handicapped. I’m not sure whether she saw Pam first or me. She offered us Room 106 a room set aside for the handicapped. It’s large, comfortable and just the right price.