Into Albuquerque... is it a little tough to get excited about ending a trip in Albuquerque? Yes. Because once we got out of Santa Fe it was... well, what you might expect New Mexico to be, tan ground and a lot of scrub and choppy hills that went on and on and on and... and it ends in Albuqurque.
The totals are 1860 miles, 90K feet of vertical, and something like 17.8MPH for an average. So says Tom's Garmin. And we all know that's one machine's opinion.
The key quotes of the trip summary goes something like:
Ugh, this room stinks (Tom, on entry into our room)
I wish I had some ice. (Don, on the side of the road as I fixed a flat outside Rangely, which might have been true, but seemed just a little out of context on a hot dry road, as Tom said at the time, "want to wish for a beautiful woman to bring it to us too?")
Get a mirror! (Tom, after scaring another rider into the ditch on the way to West Yellowstone)
What am I doing here with you? (Tom, to me, as we sat on the sun room of the Yellowstone Hotel listening to the string quartet with our drinks)
You jinxed me! (Reg to Tom, when Tom commented on the lack of flats that Reg had so far... Reg got a flat the next morning...)
Feels like we never left. (Greg, after the second morning of breakfast in the parking lot and another smells-something-like-cigarettes cheap motel)
Our thoughts go out to the dozens of dead skunks. Not as much roadkill this year, but the skunk count was very high, like one per hour.
There must have been 15 flats today, throwing bottles out the window is sport in New Mexico... Poor Lou must have had 5 on his own.
Bike break downs and then dinner and then slide show and the ice cream and now all done. The first morning shuttles are at 6am. That's all from this year's tour... Don, Tom, Greg, Mike and ? on the frontage road from Missoula to Butte. Ending as always with the Rocky Horror Picture Show:
Cause I've seen blue skies through the tears
In my eyes
And I realise.. I'm going home.
I'm going home, I'm going home.
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