From Dallas to Arizona

On the day one month after the terrorists' attack in New York, I left Dallas and headed for the northwest on the US 287. I was worried about the bad weather, however, the sky is clear. I am really welcomed by the good weather during this trip. After taking a short break for a cigarette on the way, I pulled out of the turnout and heard the windshield rattling. I pulled off the bike again and checked the windshield. One of the four supporting rods of the windshield was torn away at the fixing bolt. That was not a serious problem, however, it was the first trouble for my BMW. I wanted to get the rod welded during the same day because it was Saturday. In addition the sky in my direction would seemingly bring shower. I checked in a motel before four. I asked about the nearest place for welding at the reception. A workshop was found within the distance of 4 -5 kilometers. They would close the workshop on the following day and were open till six on that day. While I was taking the luggage on the bike into the room, a heavy rain poured down. I felt uneasy about losing time. Fortunately, the rain was over in 30 minutes. I would still be in time. When I showed the torn rod, the welder told me, "If the material is aluminum, the rod cannot be welded.", and walked away for a magnet. The most parts of the BMW are made by nonferrous metals. Even a small bolt is stainless steel. I had a vague presentiment of bad luck. Maybe I would have to travel 1000 km once again, looking for a BMW dealer. Luckily the magnet attracted the rod. Steel is also used for the BMW. I felt happy then, but at the same time a little disappointed. The fee for welding was $10 by the way.

The US 287 hits the Interstate 40 in Amarillo.

Amarillo is the town that is sung in the song of "Route 66" by Nut King Cole, "... Get your kicks on Route 66. ... Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico...". However, Route 66 cannot be found on the map. The road was shown in detail in the book I imported from the US, however I left it in Dallas, because the book was thick and heavy, and because I had seldom used it. By chance a road with the name of Route 66 is on a location map in the hotel directory of Amarillo. I head for the road. It runs parallel to the Interstate 40, which meets my memory. The traffic sign, however, has a different name. But this must be it. I keep going for about several kilometers. The road hits the US 40, not the Interstate 40, at a intersection. Ignoring the US 40, I go straight farther The road ends. So I go back to the US 40 and keep riding further. There is a traffic sign with "Old Route 66" under another sign with "US 40". This is after all Route 66. The traffic on Route 66 is close to zero, although the parallel Interstate 40 has a heavy traffic. I feel the happiest feeling. But..., the sole road comes to a dead end after the trip of around 100 km. I disappointedly take the Interstate 40 and ride to the west. I soon come to see a sign with "Tourist Information" and park the bike to get a map of Route 66. Looking at the map, I find that Route 66 goes along the Interstate 40, crossing the Interstate several times as it sews the highway and that the historic road ends in places. Yes, I should take the Interstate at the places where Route 66 disappears. But, in fact, those merging points are not certain and the road often comes to a dead end unexpectedly. I saw the sign "Dead End" only once. I once rode into a farm house. I finally came to understand the fact that no one wants to travel on Route 66 even though it has the easiest traffic.

At around 180 km west from Amarillo, Route 66 enters New Mexico.

The farms and ranches in Texas give place to the extensive semi-desert in New Mexico. Route 66, forlorn of the history, proceeds west unnoticeably. It goes through a tiny town at every 40 - 50 km interval. Some of them are as deserted and quiet as a ghost town. Now I find something very important. The motel are inexpensive. The most inexpensive motel was around $30 during this trip, however, here are a series of motels with a signboard of $21 -22. Among them there are some signs with $15 or $16. This is incredible. This is the same price as I paid eight years ago in the West Coast. The price for a motel is also warps. This is New Mexico in the US, however, $15 is nearly the price of the motels in Mexico. In the map I obtained, Route 66 merges the US 84 in the east of Santa Rosa and makes a detour all the way to Santa Fe in the north. On the US 84 after the Interstate 40, the mountains are seen in the distance. They must be the mountains in the southeastern edge of the Rocky Mountains. This road running in the vast field of semi-desert has such a light traffic that I even feel a little uneasy. It is windy and cold Was it as chilly as this on the 15th of October also in Japan? I changed the gloves with the thickest ones this morning, however, I feel still cold in my fingers. I turn on the switch of the heated grips into "warm", but it is not enough. So change it to "heat". The closer the road comes to the mountains, the more trees come within my vision. The road begins to wind. I have not seen mountains for a long time since I saw them in the Appalachians. The riding in the mountains is after all the best, for it is never monotonous. I arrived at Santa Fe at around one. It became rather warmer. I decided to keep going as far as Albuquerque, where a person who had met at a campground on the second day of my trip lives. Route 66 runs parallel to the Interstate 25 for some distance from slightly before Santa Fe, however, most part of the road merges the Interstate. I lost the way several times again. I arrived in Albuquerque at 2: 30. As Route 66 is an old road, I expected there would be lots of motels or hotels along the road as in an ancient rest-house town in Japan. But, there was none.

I gave up and took out a directory book of "Motel 6", which is a low-price motel chain in the US, and made sure of the location and price of the motel. The Motel 6 had a room for $29.99 and was located along Route 66. I thought the motel was fortunately along the same road. But strangely enough, the Route 66 ran from the east to the west on the rough map of the motel. I was then traveling from the north to the south. I asked the direction to someone around there as usual. The original Route 66 changes its name to Central Avenue in Albuquerque and crosses the downtown of the city from the east to the west. I did not want to go into the downtown, but there was no other way. When I came into the heart of the city, the road had, against my worry, few traffic and passersby. I should not have imagined the same bad situation as in Tokyo or Osaka. The situation was opposite in Montreal, Toronto or Miami. In those cities even the street surrounded with skyscrapers is so traffcless and silent that I wondered if they could make a business out of that. I saw some motels along Central Avenue on the way to the Motel 6. All of them showed the price of $21 - 22. I naturally forgot about the Motel 6 and checked in one of them. I parked the bike and got off. It was sweatily hot. What the hell is this fluctuation of temperature? Soon after leaving Rohnert Park, California in the middle of June, my left foot slightly began to ache. I thought it was caused by the overuse of my left foot for supporting the heavy bike with only its tiptoe and at the same time for shifting gears. However, I kept riding all the way to Albuquerque, as it was not so serious. The left foot finally began to ache so much that I could not help but limp. And at last the sore foot did not allow me to have a sound sleep during the night in Albuquerque. When I left the motel the following morning, a fat woman came up to my bike and asked me, "Are you having a sore foot?". I asked her back, "Why do you know about it?", and she answered, "I got the message from the heaven and I can cure it by "Reiki". Listening to her for a while, I found "Reiki" is a Japanese word meaning an aura or something. I asked, "How much do you charge?" and she said, "No, it is free". I thought I would not lose anything anyway, and showed my left foot to her, saying "Please". She touched my foot with her fingers of the both hands over the boot, mumbling some conjures. She concentrated herself and seemed to be irradiating some energy through the tips of her fingers. I tried to harmonized myself with her and closed my eyes, also concentrating myself, but from time to time opening the eyes to make certain that nothing on the bike was missing. After the "treatment", she told me that the pain in the left foot did not come from the bike, but that it was from the right part of my brain which controls emotion. I said to her, "In Japan we have a saying that illness comes from spirit", and talked with her about the function of our brain or a deficiency of our modern science. Meanwhile a man and a woman who were traveling with her, joined us and listened to our conversation, sitting silently beside us. When I rode on the bike later, I felt like the ache was somewhat eased, maybe because I enjoyed the conversation with her or because I was blessed from the heaven. Whenever I caught a cold in my childhood, a lady in the neighborhood, who believed in a Buddhism sect of "Tenri-kyo", visited me in my place and touched me on the back, conjuring in the same way. I remembered I had also felt better then.

Leaving Albuquerque, I once again traced the way of Route 66 as far as Gallup. Route 66 also repeats merging with and parting from the Interstate 40, changing its name, and keep going west. I found myself on the right way by an occasional sign of "Historic Route 66" placed together with the present road name.

In Gallup, in the west end of New Mexico, I left Route 66 that I had followed all the way from Amarillo,

Texas and headed for the region north of Grand Canyon on the US 264 running slightly in the north of Route 66. Soon after Gallup I rode into Arizona. While there are lots of the people from Mexico in Texas and New Mexico, here in Arizona there is much more population of American Indians. The US 264 goes west through an Indian Reservation, in the midst of barren land of semi-desert. In times a village with shabby houses is seen. Besides those villages, there is nothing useful. I keep heading west, wondering how these people make living and imagining the hard days of the American Indians, who were driven from the rich, green land in the east to this faraway barren land. Contrary to their dark history, the sky has been clear in blue since I left Dallas. In Arizona the weather, together with the higher temperature, is the best for a motorcycle tour. The US 264 meets the US 160 in the north of Arizona. The US 160 is the road that I took on the way to Grand Canyon and Monument Valley on the 25th of June. Nearly four months has passed since then. The odometer of the R1100R now shows 20,000 km that has already traveled. This is about the half of the distance around the world. It was a long trip.