It is a beautiful morning in NM.
We head west trough Farmington to Shiprock where we head south. Brian and I have been through this part of the country several times, and this bit pretty much sucks for a couple hours, and there is not a damn thing you can do about it except ride fast and get through it. After we are a ways south we catch some two lane blacktop through the mountains over into Arizona, and follow a southwestern path (12) through the Indian Reservation down to I-40 just west of Lupton, it is a nice path.
We hop on I-40 heading west, our destination is US 191 south.
As we are heading along the interstate I begin to hear a very bad sound. It is a metallic sound that is in sync with the engine RPMs. I fear the worst, pull in the clutch and coast to a stop on the shoulder. Stationary the engine seems to run fine, but as I rev the engine, this terrible metallic sound has me scared. I have been beating the shit out of this bike for the last two weeks, including the wide open run south out of ship rock earlier in the day.
As I look around I realize the sound is not coming from the engine, but one of my windshield mounting tabs has broken.
The vibration from the engine is making the two pieces of steel vibrate and create a terrible racket. Sweet, I didn’t break my engine! Brian supplies a KTM zip tie and we are back on the road.
We get to US 191 south, miss the exit, ride through the median, go back and head south.
Again more boring straight road from I-40 south to Alpine. We hit rain just south of I-40, so we put on our rain gear and head into it. We stop in Alpine for lunch, watch it rain, and discuss our path south, we are both familiar with 180 south in NM, and 191 south in AZ. Last year we chose 180, so this year we chose 191.
We ride 191 south, getting rained on the whole way, with the exception of about the last 20 or so miles until we hit I-10.
West on I-10 we see we are riding into major storms near Wilcox AZ. I really wish I would have had the GoPro going as the lightning show was amazing. We get into it, and get absolutely drenched; I have never ridden in rain so hard. If home was not only 60 miles away, we would have found a motel in Wilcox.
Stopping occasionally to discuss how exhausted we were, and how bad the storm is, we press on and get back to Sierra Vista before my son’s bed time. Sweet!
It was a wonderful trip, but man was it good to be home.