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Phoenix, AZ to Nashville, TN I was packing bags on the bike in my garage in Arizona when a neighbor walking by with his dog inquired “where ya headed to now?” I told him I was going to a dentist appointment.  “Thats an awful lot of stuff to be going to a dentist appointment.  Let me guess, the appointment is in Maine or something?!” I told him he was only a few states off as the appointment was in Tennessee.  I really don't know how to describe his reaction except that he was a bit confused.  See, when I finished the USA Four Corner ride about 6 weeks ago I returned to the left coast from Key West by way of TN where family lives.  While visiting I chipped a tooth which required a root canal and a crown.  All I really recall is drooling at a red light under my helmet afterwards.  Anyway, the permanent crown would be ready several weeks afterwards so instead of having the crown done out west I decided returning to the original dentist 1700 miles from my house was an excellent reason to go for a ride! Scheduling the appt a few days before Thanksgiving meant I could also eat turkey with my family as a bonus! I departed Phoenix at 6:15 am on Thurs (18Nov) with temps in the upper 40s and with the grand hope that traffic in the 6th largest city in the US would accommodate my smooth and quick exit towards Flagstaff where I'd join I-40 eastbound for the long haul.  That hope was dashed 10 minutes into the ride when a wreck brought traffic to a 1st gear crawl even in the HOV lane.  I watched the sun finish rising which shed a bright light on the faces of zombie-looking drivers around me. Toxic.  Just toxic.  It took me an hour just to get out of metro Phoenix and finally snick into 6th gear on I-17 northbound leaving them, the city, and the pollution from both behind.  As they all started to disappear in my rear view mirror I started to feel my mind ease and began to settle in for the journey. If you are not familiar with the Phoenix area you can leave the city limits and within minutes (ok, well, if there was no traffic!) be in wide open nothingness.  No services, no billboards, just a wide open road with a posted 75mph speed limit and the commanding site of Saguaro cacti.  The elevation in Phoenix is around 1100ft and 150miles later on I-17 in Flagstaff the elevation is around 7,000ft (though San Francisco Peaks in Flagstaff is the highest point in AZ at 12,633ft).  I ran a night blast earlier this week to Flagstaff and back specifically to test winter gear, new combinations of gear, and to reacquaint myself with the “winter routines” of riding.  (I mean, c'mon, I've still been in hot weather gear in Phoenix!) Thicker gloves, multi-layers, dealing with heated gear connections/cords and the like means it can take extra time and attention getting on/off the bike, refueling, etc.  Not a big deal except when it's 25 degrees, you're going 75mph (meaning sub-zero wind chill) and you forgot to reconnect the heated gear, fully zip your jacket or maybe even add an extra layer.  Comfort is a key for me riding long distances and a big part of that comfort is based on managing the elements (cold, rain, heat, wind, wanting candy, etc., etc).  Mismanagement can equal fatigue which doesn't equate to safe and enjoyable miles in my book.  Given it's winter I left prepared for colder temperatures and, in fact, it was in the low 20s when I roared through Flagstaff this morning.  I spent winters during most of the last decade in mountain country in deep snow frolicking around and enjoying various sports (particularly downhill skiing & snowshoeing) so I'm very familiar with cold weather issues. I'd be there right now if not for a serious Achilles tendon injury. The gradual climb to Flagstaff allowed me to adjust to the falling temperature.  I think it was around the 4,000' level that I turned on the heated gear; I didn't turn it off the rest of the day.  The heated gear wasn't the only thing running full-time duty – I'm surprised my radar detector wasn't smoking by the end of the day! Passed through 3 radar zones in Flagstaff alone and then at least a half dozen others on I-40.  Maybe they were getting ready for the the weekend after Thanksgiving, statistically the deadliest weekend for interstate travel.  Either way the LEO presence was higher than I ever recall it being on the long stretch on I-40 from Flagstaff to Amarillo, TX. Since I-40 is a major east-west transcontinental route it can have heavy truck traffic especially around the major cities.  I had not one but TWO separate incidences involving trucks blowing tires in front of me. One trucker just past Flagstaff had no idea he was spewing pieces of rubber on me until I passed and alerted him.  By the way, I always give a wave or nod to truckers that see me coming and move to the right.  Yeah, I know they're supposed to (stay to the right except to pass) but I've found being friendly can come in handy when, say, I'm ahead stranded roadside and need assistance.  Never know when you might need a hand... or at least not an enemy passing you. Leaving Flagstaff on I-40 eastbound takes you across the Painted Desert of Arizona.  Some people call this section flat and boring.  A geologist might call it exciting.  I call it Busa Country.  Either way the Painted Desert covers almost 100k acres and I-40 goes through a part of it.  If you mismanage your fuel in this section you're, well, screwed.  No cell phone, no services, no nothing.  (Another reason to be nice to truckers!).  Exits with gas are few and far between.  In fact, it's just under 200 miles from Flagstaff to Gallup and only one gas station between them in Holbrook, AZ. Aside from the blown truck tire the ride was uneventful.  This open space cruising always gives me time to think deeper uninterrupted thoughts which is always welcomed.  Hard to think about anything but keeping the rubber side down on the motorcycle when snarling cars and scowling faces surround you.  Seems like the crusin' and thinkin' space is almost always located in places that are prone to extreme weather issues though like heat in the summer, cold in the winter, and wind that can take down trucks.  Today it was bone chilling cold but no wind thankfully; in fact, the roadside orange wind warning windsock thingys were as limp as could be.  Approaching the New Mexico border a line of mesas provide a dramatic contrast to the previous flat terrain.  I stopped at the New Mexico Welcome Center to stretch and make a gear adjustment.  The temperature had not yet risen above 35 degrees and I wanted to get some blood flowing! While at the rest stop a man walked over and asked me if I was crazy.  I laughed and asked him if he was the same man who asked me the same exact question right here at the same rest area this past summer when it was like a billion degrees and I was in full gear.  He laughed but was stupefied to put it simply with my intent to ride to TN.  I think I answered as many questions as miles I'd ridden to get there and also obliged when he suggested he take a photo of me with my camera (“I betcha don't have many pics with you in it, huh?): Other pics of the NM Rest Area: I've been through Gallup, NM multiple times just in the last 12 weeks and each pass through there has been a construction delay.  Today was no different.  It doesn't look like much progress has been made from the beginning of summer to now to be honest.  Maybe more dirt on one side of the road but it's still single lane amid a land of orange cones and, of course, many trucks.  The slow crawl through the area provided a welcome break from the cold wind blasting me.  I knew even before leaving my garage that this particular ride would likely put a spotlight on what I consider to be two significant weaknesses of the bike I'm currently riding (a Suzuki V-Strom DL1000): lack of fairing (weather) protection and low alternator output (meaning I'm limited on what electrical items I can use at the same time).  I think it was when I resumed cruising speed (posted 75mph- 'nuff said) and the frozen feeling in my thighs and kneecaps returned that I questioned whether, in fact, I was indeed completely crazy for not only riding but also riding this particular bike.  I'd bet I could comfortably ride in temps at least 10 degrees, maybe even 15+ degrees cooler on a full fairing bike.  Because of the low alternator output I don't have the option to run heated pants.  My other cold weather disadvantage is a personal one in that I have a thin and lanky build (read as: I don't have any extra insulation); come to think of it, this is unusual in the LD (long-distance) riding world since LD riders are, on average, quite a beefy group of folks! Make that reason #43 I'm not the typical LD rider! As I roared towards Albuquerque I thought about just how good it feels to be on the road again! It's been a month since I have been on an extended, multi-day ride and it sure does feel good to, well, just GO.  To do, to see, to feel... to RIDE. I'm certainly not saying that I haven't been riding in month... in fact, since returning from my USA Four Corners run I've throughly enjoyed zipping around on my lightweight and cat quick sportbikes and somehow accumulated 2k miles doing day rides and errands. I wasn't sure how far I would ride today given the cold temperatures.  Riding in extreme weather (I call sub-zero wind chill extreme) can create an additional fatigue that sometimes sneaks up on you if you're not careful.  The gas stop in Albuquerque provided a refreshing break in warmer temps.  It gave me a chance to again stretch my legs and answer questions from shocked travelers who expressed amazement that I was alone on a motorcycle in winter time.  I always get comments when I'm out riding and it seems those comments are more frequent the farther I am away from the west coast (or whatever state license plate is on my motorcycle).  During the winter the comments seem to almost double in number.  One guy asked to take a photo of me beside the bike with his phone saying he couldn't wait to show the pic at Thanksgiving to his “big, tough uncle who says it's too cold to ride.” Just for conversation purposes I asked if his uncle rode a Harley and he said “no, a Goldwing.” It took great restraint for me to keep from laughing so hard it would have cause a scene or something! Amarillo, TX is about 300 miles away from Albuquerque heading east.  The only real town of any size between the two cities is Tucumcari, NM, a place that seems to exists solely because it is a stop over point for travelers.  Imagine you're in barren desert nothingness then all of a sudden there are countless hotels in the middle of nowhere.  Weird site.  Whenever I get to Tucumcari during the latter part of the day I'm always faced with the decision to stop or continue on to Amarillo (or Albuquerque when going westbound).  Today when I arrived Tucumcari I wasn't ready to stop; I knew given the time of day that by continuing it would mean I'd get to Amarillo several hours after sunset.  Critters and even colder temps were a concern but mainly that if the fatigue of riding all day in cold weather had a quick onset I would have no place to stop.  After a thorough assessment I felt confident and proceeded on. All went well until I approached the city limits of Amarillo.  Due to construction the interstate was brought to a one lane halt.  As far as I could see there were trucks in a single file line.  Rather than pout that I was tired from almost 800 miles of riding and that I was inhaling diesel fumes in bone chilling cold weather on a bike with a puny alternator, I was celebrating that my GPS offered a “detour” function that will direct you around a selected area.  I view my GPS units as safety items for reasons just like this. This is where having a GPS really pays off, particularly the “detour” function.  I was able to take side roads to the general area I wanted to stay the night and completely avoid the traffic snarl. While checking in at the hotel (in full gear, including my helmet) the attendant absolutely insisted that I park right beside the front door saying he would be there all night, had a direct view of the bike and “would take full responsibility if something happened.” So, I parked where he showed me, unloaded the bike, then walked to get something to eat after changing clothes.  When I was walking back I took the long way (hey, I do this even off the bike!) and ended up coming from the back of the hotel instead of the front.  I thought of something I wanted out of the Givi bag that was on the bike so I walked over to it with the key in my hand.  I thought I saw something on the rear tire so I knelled down to check it out. About that time I hear someone yell “GET AWAY FROM THAT BIKE” and look up to see Mr.  Attendant man coming flying out the front door! I stood up and said “I was just testing you” but he didn't recognize me without my gear on and said “Ma'am don't touch that bike!” I laughed so hard I thought I'd pass out. Tomorrow I'm taking a little detour so I can add another stamp to my National Park Passport book.  Today has been a good day. Well, I left Amarillo at sunrise this morning with a strong bovine smell in 28 degree air and very windy conditions (is it ever not windy in Texas?!).  All I know is that it was dang cold! I've decided this is the last cold weather extended journey that I'm taking on this bike if that tells you anything.  I rode north on TX-136 to Fritch, TX site of Lake Meredith National Recreation Area. When I walked into the Visitor Center there was a female Park Ranger behind the counter who looked up at me and said “Oh my lord I can't believe you are riding a motorcycle...  you must be one of them Iron Butt people... hey, Wilma, get in here and meet this woman!!” Well, the Ranger pair were very familiar with the stamp collecting done by IBA riders for the Master Traveler award that requires collecting a minimum of 50 stamps in 25 states in less than a year.  One said “ya'll all have those fancy looking suits.” They both reiterated how shocked they were that I was riding by myself and in the cold weather. Personally I've never understood what the big deal is but I hear it constantly and just humbly smile.  I've really never known how to respond to such statements.  Anyway, when I finally stamped my book they asked how many stamps I had total and how many more states I needed.  I said I lost track of the total stamp count but I thought it was over 150 and that I had 45 states.  Well, here came Round Two of the shocked and amazement.  They went on and on about how impressed they were and questioned me about certain parks they had visited since they'd worked for the US Park Service.  I was getting ready to leave and got one last question... “How many years did it take you to get all those stamps?” To avert a Round Three (hey, I gotta get on the road ya know!) I answered as I was opening the door and said “about 6 months” and heard “YOU GO GIRL!!” as I waved good-bye. Here are my pics of Lake Meredith National Recreation Area.  Let me say that riding in the Texas Panhandle around water in freezing temps was, well, a blast! There was no one around but me! This is a 10,000 acre reservoir that was created to supply water to 11 Panhandle cities as well as recreational opportunities.  Why it has such official governmental status is beyond me. Can't say that I've seen a sign like this one: Instead of backtracking to Amarillo to catch I-40 eastbound I decided to tour a bit of the two lane back roads in Texas while heading east so I could eventually drop down and hit the interstate.  I can sum up the experience in word one: MOO. Yes, it was cow country.  Farm after farm after farm.  I kept thinking I wanted to pull over and take a picture of a farm with a bazillion cows but the thought of turning off my heated gloves kept prevailing. Besides, it was super windy.  At one particular point I did pull over to make a quick phone call and soon after reentering the road I saw a LEO coming towards me.  I saw him first and then he apparently saw me because my radar detector went off.  I was going 5mph under the posted 65mph speed limit so I wasn't concerned.... until he turned on his lights and turned around.  I was a bit confused to say the least.  I pulled over, of course, beside a cow farm.  Mr. LEO walks up and asks for my “lie-suns and re-gee-stray-shun.” Good thing I'm from the South so I could understand him, huh? I asked him what the problem was and he said “you were speedin'.” I said I was going 60mph and when I asked him what rate he thought I was traveling he said “yes, 60mph” I'm thinking um, ok, well, what am I missing here? And he says “Ma'am this here is a 45mph con-struct-shun zone.” I couldn't recall seeing anything denoting such and was getting ready to say so until I remembered something... I asked if by any chance the sign stating such was laying face down on the side of the road about a mile back with on top of a small orange flag.  He looked at me, grabbed his hat in his hand, stomped his foot and proclaims: “Dang it, Buford ... I told him to be sure and add an extra sand bag to that sign today!!!” I'm sitting with my hands crossed on the gas tank, cows have gathered fence side to my right, and I've got Barney Fife to my left stomping his foot and talking about someone I don't know... and I'm freezing since bike was turned off and so was my heated gear.  Yeehaw, this is fun stuff, huh? He apologized for “troublin' you ma'am” and explained that his superiors had really stressed slowing the construction zone down since especially since the big cattle trucks practically blow the workers off the road.  I wish I could have captured this situation with my camera and almost asked Barney to take my picture beside the cows since he troubled me but he quickly took off either out of embarrassment or to look for Buford.  Instead I took a pic of the cows in the exact place I pulled over.  Even though the pics turned out terrible I wanted to insure I file this memory.  Let me say that he wasn't kidding about the trucks.  It took both hands to stabilize the bike when a rig flew by me. I picked up I-40 almost at the OK state line.  It is noteworthy that the two lane highways I traveled from Amarillo were like riding through a deer graveyard as dead deer that were obviously killed during the night were everywhere.  The stories about Texas and deer are not not made up and the deer serve as haunting reminder. Once on I-40 I was able to settle into a good pace and the 165 miles to Oklahoma City was uneventful except for the fact that I'm now officially declaring OK as having the 3rd worse interstate drivers in the country behind WA & OR.  All 3 states need “Keep Right Except To Pass” signs posted about every mile since these people have the this-is-my-lane-and-I'm-not-moving mentality. When passing through Oklahoma City (OKC) I saw a sign that said “Oklahoma City..America's Corner” and my only guess was that it's refers to OKC being a merge point for several interstates (I-35, I-40, and I-44).  However, calling it a corner seems, well, weird since it's in the middle of the country. Besides, when I did my USA Four Corners run this past fall OKC wasn't on the list of corners I needed to reach.  When I see signs like this I wonder what purpose do they serve? I mean, really, what is the average (or even above average) driver suppose to do with this information? Seriously? I also wonder about the person behind the sign.  Not only did they come up with the idea but they were somehow able to convince other people that it was worthy to be put into action and in the ground.  I think here they'd be better off putting the “Keep Right Except To Pass” sign up if you ask me. Thankfully the traffic is light since it is mid-morning Friday.  I'd sure hate to be on this road next week during Thanksgiving! OKC may or may not be America's corner but it's definitely a point where the scenery changes.  Heading east the dry, open plains gives way to trees and greenery.  This is a welcomed sight for me since I so enjoy foliage and trees; something about the growth and living most likely.  About an hour before the Arkansas state line I saw a brown federal sign that said stated “Sequoyah National Wildlife Refuge” was just ahead.  My next thought was “DETOUR!” Since my plan was to stay the night in Little Rock, AR so I could get a stamp tomorrow morning I knew that I didn't have a lot of spare time if I wanted to arrive in daylight hours; seeing all the dead deer was enough of a reminder that riding at night in the middle of rutting season is risky.  I calculated how much time I had to spare and decided to take a quick detour. What a great place! I've decided that in addition to visiting every National Park, Monument, Memorial, etc that I'm definitely going to add every National Wildlife Refuge (NWR) to my list of places to ride before I die.  Woo-hoo! Inside the Visitor Center I took a pic of this map to show the exact location of the refuge and also to show how the NWR system covers a vast area. I met a very helpful employee of the NWR who explained that some of the refuges have stamps just like the ones for the National Parks Passport book.  She showed me her office copy of the “Blue Goose” and told me I could find more information on-line.  I'm very excited to see what this is about! She also said that Sequoyah is the winter home to over 20,000 Canadian Snow Geese.  She wasn't kidding either When I was riding down a long stretch of gravel road within the refuge by a big grassy field it looked like a blanket of snow. Hearing the bike, they lifted up and shifted over maybe 50 yards.  The site was spectacular! It looked like it was snowing except that the snow was going up, sideways, and when I stopped the view was accompanied by an incredibly honking (the birds, not my air horn!). I saw all kinds of birds while touring the refuge down several gravel roads past open fields, marshes, and beside a very large reservoir. While I was taking the last photo a red truck came down the road towards me.  The driver rolled the window down and says “Howdy! Where ya headed?” He was apparently taking a trip down memory lane since he told me that he grew up on this land and farmed it with his father until he sold it to the government almost 2 decades ago.  Wow, talk about getting first hand information about the place, huh?! I throughly enjoyed my visit with him and to the refuge though I was late arriving Little Rock.  The total miles for the day was around 700 and just as many smiles! Note: my laptop died once I reached Nashville so I'm writing this section of the ride report days later rather than the end of the current day. I woke up Saturday morning in Little Rock, AR and went downtown to get a stamp from the “Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site.” I arrived to see the Park Service decided to buy an old Mobil Oil gas station just across the street and convert it to a visitor center for the site. Rather odd but I did see massive building efforts across from the Mobil station that denoted a new visitor center was being erected. The high school marks the site where in 1957 nine black students challenged the Brown vs Board of Education of Topeka decision ending segregation in education.  Since I wasn't yet alive when this occurred I found the facts posted in the center as another reason to be thankful I was born after at a later date! The ride from Little Rock to Nashville was a quick and uneventful one.  I arrived early afternoon, in time to meet a friend to, of course, go riding! He actually met me just outside Nashville so we could ride the end of Natchez Trace Parkway (NTP).  What a great road! I've lost count of how many times just this year I've ridden the NTP but each time is simply wonderful. Here's a photo of my friend Scott's and my bike on Saturday and one from this past summer at the same exact location: I met Scott the next day (Sunday) to ride to Lynchburg, TN to tour the Jack Daniel's Distillery.  A separate report and photos can be found: HERE.  I'll say that it was the last ride my camera ever made.  Once back at my Dad's house I discovered it to be completely dead which was confirmed by a camera geek later that night.  Perhaps the fumes from the sour mash whiskey might have been too much for the little thing, who knows.  I bought a new camera the next day (mostly so I could get photos of family at T-giving) and I'm sure the upgrade will be noticeable.  I'll also mention that, in case it isn't obvious, I have very little skills in the photography department.  “No clue” comes to mind actually but I'm planning on taking a class for other photo morons like me in a few months.  Stay tuned. Webmaster Note: Personally I think AGirl is being too hard on herself.  I think her photographic abilities are far above moron level and rival those of some who claim to be very good with a camera.   This web site already has nearly 700 photographs on it that she has taken, and I for one have enjoyed them all!  If these are examples of her inabilities, some of the self-proclaimed "Experts" better watch out when she really learns to use a camera! Monday was spent visiting with family, trying to explain how heated gear works to the 83 year old family Matriarch, and acquiring a new camera.  On Tuesday I thought I'd go riding before my afternoon dentist appointment.  I mean, that is the main reason for my arrival.  Here's what I came back with as far as photos go: Nashville, TN to Phoenix, AZ What I didn't come back with was my new crown from the dentist's office.  Seems there was some kind of error and it didn't fit.  Yes, that's right, 1700 miles and no crown.  I thought, geez, no crown, camera broke, what's next?  Well, the answer was that my laptop died.  Ugh. Enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with family and friends immensely.  There were several of us around the Thanksgiving table that were thankful just to be alive to see another Thanksgiving turkey.  Just like the header of my website says, there is only so much time.  When you live with this perspective then things like how the turkey tastes or if your motorcycle is clean become insignificant and completely irrelevant within the context of life.... and you're thankful every single day for having had another day, another ride, and another moment with those who are important to you. The weather forecast said early week would not offer ideal traveling conditions as colder temps and rain/ snow were likely in the middle section of the country including northern AZ, NM, TX, OK.... basically I-40.  Since Thanksgiving weekend is the WORST time to be traveling on the interstates I wasn't sure what to do.  The plan I came up with was to leave TN on Sunday and ride the length of the Natchez Trace Parkway from Nashville to Louisiana and hope that “Turkey Travelers” would opt for faster roads rather than scenic ones, namely “The Trace.” I left TN the same way I arrived... riding with my friend Scott.  He met me early Sunday morning to ride “The Trace” with me to the TN/AL state line. Early morning traffic was non-existent except at a particular spot where a white car rounded a corner towards us as we were descending a hill.  The car happened to have blue lights on the roof, the words “Park Ranger” on the sides, and for some reason my radar detector screamed it didn't like that particular vehicle.  Parkway speed limit is, well, slow.  Ok, it's posted 40mph in some places but 50mph is the most prevalent sign.  Let me preface this by saying I've never had a speed ticket (aka “performance award”).  Yup, that'd be a big fat zero.  After seeing the above mentioned white car I had concerns about my streak continuing when, after passing us, those blue lights became very, very bright and flashing.  I kept the same speed since for all I knew he just received a call up ahead or something.  Several miles later I saw one of the 50 exits that are available on the Parkway so I thought perhaps it'd be prudent of me to pull over and check on Scott who might be having a coronary behind me.  He was fine and we never saw blue lights again... least not ones that were flashing.  Near the AL state line we bid farewell and I continued on down the parkway. The ride was absolutely lovely; a bright sky and warmer temps (low 50s) than what I'd experienced coming into TN and also during the course of my stay.  The Natchez Trace Parkway (NTP) extends 444 miles, ranks as the 7th most visited location within the National Park Service, and is one of America's 75 National Scenic Byways and 21 All-American Roads.  My guess that most Thanksgiving travelers would be on the faster roads and not out sightseeing was exactly right; I had the entire NTP to myself it seemed! I was surprised how “winter” looking it was in the northern section of the parkway (TN/north AL) with leafless trees abound; the southern section offered late fall foliage colors and though not as a bright as “peak” fall colors it was a beautiful ride. Bridge over the Tennessee River (where I wished I had my fishing pole!): One of the many, many pullouts on the NTP that offer travelers a chance to walk around, drink Diet Mt. Dew, and have other travelers ask them if they are completely crazy for riding a motorcycle alone in the winter across the country: Entering Mississippi... .... and more views of the perfect road: I stopped at the main Visitor Center for the Parkway located on the Parkway at Mile Post 266 in Tupelo, MS, so I could add their National Park Passport Stamp to my collection.  Getting this particular stamp allows me to mark off another “state stamp” (MS) on my quest to obtain every state. The official word at the Visitor Center is that the Parkway has 10 campgrounds along its corridor, over 100 wayside exhibits, almost 400 types of wildlife, including 22 federally listed threatened and endangered species, and over 900 types of plants with more than 100 species of wildflowers that help to support 57 species of mammals, 150 species of birds, and 70 species of reptiles or amphibians.  Other than birds and several deer I only saw several dead armadillos and skunks roadside. My official word is that the NTP and any other nationally designated Parkway (like the Blue Ridge Parkway) simply can't be beat! No commercial traffic, roads in great condition, wonderful scenery... all equal a motorcycling paradise.  It seems to me people who travel the parkway are here for a reason and that reason is not to get from point A to point B as fast as possible.  Cruising these roads in more of an attitude and a journey.  Travelers wave to others, they casually stop and look around, take pictures, picnic, all while enjoying the vegetation and wildlife surrounding them.  I don't find road rage and honking horns and scowling faces belonging to comatose drivers here and it is such a relief.  There is something rejuvenating about the journey on a Scenic Byway which is why I have logged many, many miles on these roads. As I was leaving the Visitor Center I was greeted by another rider who pulled up beside me with a big smile and “Howdy Ma'am!” Seems his smile came not only from riding this beautiful road but also from “escaping the house where I spent the last 4 days with my in-laws!!” We were not the only riders out enjoying the Parkway; I think I saw more motorcycles today than I did cars! Since I had no idea what traffic and other issues I would face today my only goal was to be off the Parkway by sunset.  Given my, ahem, “tendency” to take detours combined with the fact that the winter sun sets around 4:45pm in these parts, I could only hope that my goal was obtainable.  However, while leaving Tupelo I figured out I was way ahead of schedule (mainly due to the complete absence of traffic) and decided I actually had a chance to make it to Vicksburg, MS and bag the National Park Passport stamp at the Vicksburg National Military Park (NMP) before the 5pm closing.  The only prohibitive factor to my new plan would be traffic around Jackson, MS. The ride from Tupelo to Jackson offers some of Mississippi's most beautiful scenery when the NTP parallels the 33,000 acre Ross Barnett Reservoir for several miles: I stayed on the NTP to Jackson and then was indeed able to skirt my way through the light traffic so I could jump on I-20 westbound to head towards Vicksburg and another stamp.  I was surprised to see the interstate was not jammed with travelers and therefore took full advantage of the higher speed limit.  There is always a bit of an adjustment for me when I've been riding a parkway or scenic byway then jump into the contrasting world of the interstate with it's billboards and commercial trucks, blitzing pace, and plethora of drivers who seem only interested in getting somewhere else.  Since I had just spent all day on the NTP the contrast of the Parkway and the interstate was stark and the transition was abrupt.  I rolled into Vicksburg NMP (GPS coordinates: N32 20.6484 W90 51.1139) exactly 10 minutes before closing time.  The Ranger on duty was delighted that I had stopped to visit the park and was very interested in the other stamps I had collected in my book. I don't have anything against cannons but I seem to reach my “cannon boredom” limit fairly quickly.  I've been to a plethora of battlefields since mid-summer while collecting National Park stamps and each time I get around these historical field artillery my attention span seems to plummet like a cannonball in a swimming pool! Needless to say, I was in and out of the battlefield quickly.  I felt surprisingly rested and rather energetic given I'd been riding all day, so after regearing (of course, beside a cannon) I decided to see if I could make it to a National Wildlife Refuge (NWR) that was located just north of Monroe, LA before it closed at sunset.  My GPS said 83 miles was all that was between the location of the refuge and where I was with the cannon.  I knew it would be a close call but I figured if the refuge was closed then I'd just stay the night in the area then get up tomorrow morning and see the place.  I recently decided to add visiting every National Wildlife Refuge (there are over 500!) to my list but I chose this particular NWR because it is also home to one of the “Dated Blue Goose Stamps” which means it counts in my quest for National Park Passport Stamps.  Visiting the refuge and getting the stamp would give me yet another state (Louisiana) to cross off my list and leave me with only four states remaining: KS, CT, AK, and HI.  Yippee! So, with cannons fading in my mirrors I jumped back on I-20 westbound leaving Vicksburg, MS and started blazing a path towards Black Bayou Lake National Wildlife Refuge located north of Monroe, LA.  I called the refuge to verify they were indeed open and their closing time since it was a holiday weekend.  I will say it is unnerving to me when I hear something like “yeah, we should still be here.”  Southerners run on a different time, especially during the holidays, hunting season, or if the fish are biting.  The ride to Monroe was uneventful except that it seemed like there were an unusually large number of empty cattle trucks with Texas plates on the road.  I rolled into Monroe then took US-165 north to the refuge.  In my experience NWR signage is on the slim side compared to National Parks; you might get one sign but if it happens to be laying in bushes because Bubba ran over it with his Tonka truck while four wheeling one night then, well, that's your problem.  I'm extra thankful for my GPS units on occasions such as this.  So, I'm riding in the middle of nowhere LA in a wildlife refuge at dusk not knowing what could jump out in front of me and trying to find this Visitor Center.  I eventually found it as well as a delightful couple from Michigan who were spending the winter at the refuge volunteering for the USFS by staffing the center.  The Visitor Center is a restored 1880's planter's house that had exhibits that must make the local science teachers drool.  I was able to get my stamp and peruse some of the area in a glorious sunset. This is an “alligator snapping turtle” which is the largest freshwater turtle in the world (average weight is 155-175lbs).  YIKES! If you're interested in either visiting the refuge yourself or perhaps you just want to see where the hell I went then here are the GPS coordinates to Black Bayou Lake Wildlife Refuge: N32 36.265, W92 2.432 I left the refuge and rode back down to Monroe in darkness and with the heated gear turned on.  I didn't really want to stay the night in the thriving metropolis (not!) of Monroe so I decided I'd get something to eat and ponder what I'd do next.  Being a full-blooded, born and raised (then got the hell out) Southerner, it's only fitting that Waffle House is one of my preferred dinner stops while on the road.... always open, predictable food, usually a trucker or two who can provide current or inside road information, fast service, and they have grits (a fav of mine).  While ungearing at the Waffle House a Tonka-ish truck pulled into the parking lot.  As the male occupants were piling out of it I heard something with the words “girl” and “motorcycle” and knew they were probably trying to digest my license plate (which says “AGIRL”).  It's something I hear so frequently that it doesn't really surprise me.  Bubba and his boys came over and asked about my bike, if I really rode from Arizona (“no, I had it shipped” is my usual response).  I was asked about my license plate and explained that it wasn't “uh-girl” but rather “A” as in the first letter of alphabet (and first letter of my name) and that “A-Girl” is my nickname.  Later while I was ordering dinner (including grits, of course) I laughed when I overheard one of the guys correcting his friend saying “Charlie, it ain't uh-girl, it's A girl.” I talked to a trucker who had just come from Texas on I-20 and said traffic was moving briskly and that I'd “have no trouble finding a rabbit” which was all I needed to hear.  So, after refueling (myself and my DL1k) I hit I-20 again and headed towards the Lone Star state.  The trucker was right as I was able to keep a spirited pace while staying in the middle of a pack (avoiding the eyes of LEOs and critters).  The pace was such that I decided Ft.Worth would be where I'd sleep tonight.  I definitely didn't want to stay on the east side or in the middle of Dallas; any frequent traveler knows you always stay on the same side of a city in the direction you're traveling (heading west then stay on west side of a city, heading east then stay on east side, etc so you avoid morning commute/traffic issues).  All was well until I was about 75 miles outside of Dallas both lanes came to a dead stop with traffic as far as I could see ahead.  This is where I have found a certain routing feature in my GPS to be priceless: the “DETOUR” function.  It allows for on the fly rerouting around a distance that can be designated.  I quickly engaged this feature and was thankful that an exit was less than 100 yards ahead.  Several cars, all with out of state plates, also exited so I assumed since we were in the middle of nowhere it was because they too had a navigational tool that was telling them the same thing as mine.  No lights, no signs, no commercial buildings on the new “route” that went down county roads, some paved and some not.  The unpaved roads were a mixture of dirt and very fine gravel that made for some interesting riding in pitch dark as the few cars in front of me kicked up a thick cloud of dust making visibility very limited.  Of the 3,000+ miles I had logged since leaving Phoenix I was never more thankful to be on a dual-sport/adventure motorcycle than I was on that road.  There's not another bike in my current stable of bikes that I would have felt comfortable piloting on that detour stretch.  I was singing the V-Strom song the whole time! After weaving around the Texas countryside, the road finally dumped back on the interstate.  I can only assume whatever issue I was able to circumvent must have completely stopped traffic since once I was back on I-20 there wasn't a single vehicle ahead or behind.  I think one of the cars in our detour convoy decided that it was unlikely there would be any speed traps given what we'd just left behind and so s/he adjusted their pace accordingly shall we say.  I zoomed through Dallas and stopped for the night west of Fort Worth concluding a fantastic and very diverse 940 mile day! I waited until morning to make my next routing decision since there was a questionable weather system ahead.  It was very cloudy when I woke up but the weatherman said it was going to be “very nice.”  For all I know he was talking about next weekend's weather in Miami but I went with it.  I mean, I had to go west so it didn't quite matter.  I left the motel and jumped back on I-20 for about 5 miles then decided I wanted to do what I do best: detour.  I took a series of county and country roads as I weaved my way to TX-180.  There was something quite unappealing about just blasting down the interstate today especially since I really wanted to get the National Park Passport stamp in El Paso.  The stamp location (Chamizal National Monument) has limited hours (10a-4p) and I've been unable to synchronize my time on previous rides through El Paso with their hours of operation.  Since I knew I'd have to stay the night in El Paso if I wanted the stamp, combined with not wanting to arrive early in El Paso and just hang out (yuck), I did what any stamping addict and motorcycle rider would do... take the long way and collect even more stamps via another state, namely New Mexico.  The sun came out which I took as a sign that my recently concocted plan was a good one and so off I went riding in a remote Texas: It was basically just me, a bunch of dead deer roadside, a few grazing cows here and there, and a spirited breeze.  Small communities like Brad, Funston, Roby, Gail, and Seminole; blue collar, rural, agricultural based that just screamed “cowboy.” I'm confident I passed more pickup trucks in fields than I did on the road itself.  When I stopped for gas or at an interesting looking country store the locals looked at me like I was a martian or something.  I assumed a full motorcycle riding suit wasn't a common site in those parts. One of the towns I passed through had a large billboard sign that stated “Look Before You Leave.... Cars Are Not Babysitters” which I found to be odd and alarming.  (It also listed a website: www.lookbeforeyouleave.org).  Hard to believe adults leaving children inside cars is such a frequent occurrence that a sign is even warranted.  What does such a sign say about the community to those of us who are visiting?  I always find the signage in small communities to be very interesting as they typically reflect the issues troubling the locals.  During my extensive US travels I've seen signs about teen pregnancy, gambling, drugs, DUI, immunizing children, etc but never have a seen a sign like that one. As I rode TX-180 I was surprised to happen upon several designated scenic roads such as the “Texas Plains Trail” and the “Texas Fort Trail.” I guess it'd be accurate to say I was detouring from my detour: My plan was to ride to Carlsbad Caverns National Park which is just south of Carlsbad,NM then continue on down US-180 back into TX and get the stamp at Guadalupe Mountains National Park before heading to El Paso for the night.  I wanted to be off the road before dark for these two reasons: I arrived at Carlsbad and quickly refueled so that I could stay on schedule.  The Caverns are about 30 miles south of Carlsbad via the two lane US-180 that might as well been called Deer Graveyard Lane.  I arrived the entrance around 3pm to a rain cloud looming to the west and to a sign stating I would need to go 7 miles into the park to get the stamp at the Visitor Center (VC). The ride into the park was quite enjoyable and provided wonderful views: At the Visitors Center at the top: I was surprised to see quite a few cars in the VC parking lot.  One car belonged to “Frank” who was from Minnesota.  I told him I had ridden through Bemidji then Voyageurs National Park a few months ago during my “USA Four Corners Tour” and he lit up like a Christmas tree since being from MN and also a rider himself.  Frank said he was a retired woodworker which had me lighting up since I'd love to know more about the art of woodworking.  He walked inside with me to collect my stamp and asked multiple questions about the National Park Passport program and the Iron Butt Association's (IBA) National Parks Tour Master Traveler ride involving the collection of park stamps.  By the time I left I think he was plotting his first Stamping Expedition! (It really is fantastic, probably my most favorite quest ever).  Here is a link for detailed information: http://www.ironbutt.com/ridecerts/getdocument.cfm?DocID=11 GPS coordinates for Carlsbad Caverns NP: N32 10.4830, W104 26.7096 As I was making the 7 mile trek (creeping along at 30mph since a radar-totin' Park Ranger was behind me) I started to strongly reconsider my plans based on three things I saw: the clouds were looking more ominous, a visual of all the dead deer I had passed on Hwy 180, and my GPS screen saying there were no services whatsoever between me and El Paso (135 miles away).  I can't really explain it but I had this overwhelming gut sense not to proceed so I backtracked the 30 miles to Carlsbad and got a hotel for the night.  On the way back I thought of one of my long distance riding friends who is known for saying “sometimes you gotta stop to go further” and I was comfortable concluding this was one of those times. While I ate dinner I watched it pour rain and felt it even better about my decision to turn back though I had concerns about the road conditions for the morning ride since US-180 through Guadalupe Mountains would take me above 5,500' elevation and riding on black ice didn't interest me in the least.  Before going to sleep, I reviewed topographical maps on my laptop and my concern was a strong wind coming off the mountains along with colder temps could equal trouble in the form of ice. I awoke to reports that the road was clear but “a bit windy.”  I filled up with gas at the last possible gas station in Carlsbad since the next services were 164 miles away (you couldn't have spit in the tank without it overflowing).  When I left Carlsbad temps were in the upper 30's and the sun was shining but that statement of “a bit windy” concerned me since folks in this area are so use to high winds that their version of “a bit” can mean down right gnarly conditions.  As I rode down the same stretch of US-180 that I'd ridden twice yesterday I saw more freshly dead deer and was even more relieved I'd decided to backtrack.  About 25 miles after passing the entrance to Carlsbad Caverns I crossed back into Texas: It's 40 miles from the VC at Carlsbad Caverns to the VC at Guadalupe Mtn NP.  Here's a map and a pic that shows the route: Now, for that “a bit windy” part.  As the Guadalupe Mtns started appearing so did stronger winds.  While at the entrance of the park the bike almost blew over while I was taking this photo: I ended up parking behind a service building to shield the bike from the strong winds so I could go into the VC for the stamp.  The Ranger just shook his head when he saw me walking in the door carrying my helmet and asking about the Passport stamp.  He also warned me that a high wind warning had been issued (which is probably the official version of “a bit windy”).  Here are pics I took while walking around the VC and contemplating my situation of being in the remote and rugged wilderness and no services for another 125 miles: By the time I left the park the wind seemed even stronger.  While walking out the VC doors, I thought it was odd the Ranger said “Good Luck!” as opposed to saying “Goodbye” or “Thank you for visiting” until I got back outside and was nearly blown over just walking back to the bike.  There wasn't much choice since the forecast was for high winds all day and I definitely didn't want to be caught in darkness in these parts.  Back on the road it was an absolute war with the wind.  After topping Guadalupe Pass, I used a rock formation alongside the road to shield me from the wind so I could take a see-what-I'm-talking-about-picture: The wind was unlike any I'd ever before experienced in all my years and miles of riding.  Running at slower speeds felt less stable than higher speeds but that would equate to another issue: fuel (or lack thereof).  My fuel range is around 200 miles (give or take the conditions, how “spirited” I'm riding, etc) and after racking up more than 50,000 miles in less than a year on this particular bike I'm very familiar with it's fuel consumption in high winds.  The idea of running out of fuel on the side of a desolate road in severe wind was one I'd rather dismiss.  As I descended out of the mountains the wind speed dropped enough that I could at least stop and take photos without the bike blowing over. As I was en route to El Paso I saw several herd of Pronghorn antelope that reminded me of a conversation I had once with a Park Rangers who said the speed of the Pronghorn antelope is only surpassed by the cheetah and since they are built for speed (large heart and lungs) they are poor jumpers.  Perhaps this explains why I've never seen a dead Pronghorn roadside from a collision with a vehicle. I passed this pink saloon which was closed down but thought if things worsened with the wind I could backtrack and dive in there somehow: Thankfully I had no need for the shelter of a pink saloon and was able to make it by the skin of my teeth to the first available gas station in El Paso.  I refueled, returned a few phone calls, checked my weather alerts (more wind ahead – oh joy!) then set sail for the next stamp at the Chamizal National Memorial which would take me to the US/Mexico border.  I personally can't imagine living on the Mexico border where Border Patrol agents are omnipresent.  Chamizal is right on the border.  How close? Well, I took this photo at the entrance to Chamizal.... ..... then turned around and took this picture: No need to take my word for it, here are the GPS coordinates you can throw in Google or your favorite GPS program: N31 45.930, W106 27.291 The Chamizal National Memorial is in a park like setting that stands in great contrast to the chaos and trash surrounding it.  Walking up to the VC several walls of the building displayed a bold, bright mural depicting cultural activities unique to both Mexico and the US.  Here is one of the murals: A sign beside a mural read the memorial was built “to celebrate the Mexican-American friendship and goodwill.” My first thought was “HUH?” until I learned it was regarding the settlement of a century long dispute over the location of the international boundary between El Paso and Ciudad, specifically a piece of land that was created by the meandering of the Rio Grande.  A pamphlet (aka the National Park Service's “Unigrid Brochure”) stated this dispute was only settled on August 19, 1963.  Maybe if I had been born before the agreement was reached I would have a different perception but of all the parks, memorials, and monuments I've visited this one seemed more about hope than about history. I also took a photo of a sign that shows the location of every NPS unit in Texas which also provides a quick explanation of the route I rode through the Lone Star state: Rolled out of Chamizal and decided to take a road alongside the border which provided a brief glimpse of life on the other side of the fence.  If you find yourself on I-10 one day near El Paso and would like a brief respite from interstate travel I would recommend taking this quick detour along the border and perhaps even stopping at Chamizal NM.  It's Hwy 375 or “Border Hwy.”  From eastbound I-10 take Exit #13 and follow US-85 to Chamizal.  From westbound I-10 signs will clearly point to Chamizal then follow Border Hwy to US-85 then drop back onto I-10. My GPS said only 460 miles were all that separated me from my garage.  The wind was relentless which didn't make for either fun riding or dandy gas mileage.  The Strom averages around 40mpg and as I blazed towards Phoenix I got back-to-back tanks of 30mpg!  Yikes!  If I had been on a sailboat I could have made it back by lunch but instead I made it in time for a late dinner with friends.  Pulling into my garage my GPS said I had just completed a 4,016 mile journey.  I'm sure I have at least that many memories. AGirl Webmaster Note: Here is a map of her route from Phoenix to Nashville and back again.  Amazingly, the route is relatively straight.  The run down the Natchez Trace Parkway was a great one and very enjoyable.  Riding with AGirl is always a learning experience and always fun. Copyright © 2006-2008, All Rights Reserved.