2005 Day 4

Start: Shawnee OK (32760)
End: W Memphis AR (33190)
430 miles

I am up early and on the road from Shawnee, after bidding Carrie farewell and a safe trip back to Texas. Another interstate day. After so many days of heat, it is wonderfully cool on the road this morning, fog hugging the valleys and swales of rural Oklahoma. I ride into the glare of the morning sun, admiring the scenery and the impossibly red clay earth. Apparently this part of the country is home to lots and lots and lots of turtles, the kind kids keep in aquariums, ya know? They are all over the road here, like little stalled Volkswagens on the shoulder of I-40. I don't actually run over any of them, they seem to be mostly out of the roadway. Thank goodness. I prefer to leave them in peace.

Oklahoma highways are bad. Thump, thump, thump. I hate roads that are patched over and over again instead of properly repaved.

I've left Shawnee with better than half a tank of gas, and reading mileage signs and doing the math in my head, figure my next stop to be in Henryetta OK. Well, I'm not sure if I was daydreaming or if I missed it in the construction (and there is lots of it here) but I ride right past Henryetta. Oh well, I'll just stop at the next gas I see. I keep riding. Nothing. Now I've gotten into a middle-of-nowhere patch, and there are NO gas stations, though I never did see a blue sign telling me how far until the next services. I start to worry ... I've been on reserve for thirty, forty, now FIFTY miles and I must be running on fumes by now. Worse yet, I'm in the middle of another stretch of construction work, the sort where they shut down one side of the freeway and run both directions, single lane, on the other side. There is NO shoulder so if I run out of gas, there is NOWHERE to safely pull off. Time to pray. Keep me safe, dear Goddess, and please don't let my little scoot quit on me. At LAST I see a Citgo sign to the right! I don't breathe easily until I pull up to the pumps. Whew, that was way too long to run looking for gas. My tank holds 2.9 gallons, according to the specs. Today I put 3.197 gallons in it. Oh my goodness. Three-tenths past the maximum capacity. I think the tank was about as empty as you can possibly get and still have the motor running. My angels are watching out for me. :)

I cross over into Arkansas, which is hilly and pretty in this western part. Gas again in Clarkesville AR, this time not waiting until I am just about run dry. ;)

Coming into Little Rock, I get caught in nightmare traffic, and the worst and stupidest construction cone job I have EVER seen. Many lanes of traffic get pinched into a single lane. It's city traffic, so people are getting aggressive and pushy and not letting cars in ... I jump past a bunch of cars by riding on the ill-defined shoulder, cutting into the lane at the last possible minute. The fellow in a battered pickup behind me is quite unhappy about this. He scowls and shouts, and tailgates me much closer than reason and safety allows. I can see him in my rearviews, gesturing angrily. Let it go, dude. I am happy to get away from him as soon as I can.

Just past Little Rock is the designated lunch stop and the meetup place for the Texas riders joining us for the rest of the ride to Murfreesboro. After a little circling and an assist from Rob, Janelle's husband, I find them in the parking lot of an Iron Skillet. We exchange greetings and hugs - Suzanne (Ears), Janelle (NavLady), Camellia (CC) and Janet (RoadPattie) are here and waiting! It is wonderful to meet these ladies; they are fabulous beyond words!! We go in for lunch and fall into happy road camraderie, telling stories and laughing our heads off. I dig the deck of playing cards out of my pocket and toss 'em to Suzanne, saying, "I got a little present for ya." She thinks the cheesy Route 66 cartoon on the back of the deck is great, and she beams. She's our local cardshark - poker, Texas Hold'Em is her game. I resolve to not play for money against her. We have a great lunch, then head out to hit the road again. While everyone is tanking up, Marty, Kathy and Bob pull in. More greets, more smiles. We decide to keep the groups mostly the same as we've been in all day (and I'll ride solo) and gather again at the hotel in West Memphis. I'm too hot standing around in my gear, so I take off down the road.

From here, it's just a straight shot down I-40 into W Memphis AR. It's beastly hot and humid, and mostly boring and uneventful. I pull into the hotel first, but Sue and Turbo are only a minute behind me. Time to get cleaned up and take a small nap. We'll go out for dinner in town tonight.

A group of eight of us head into Memphis looking for a barbeque joint that apparently no longer exists, and end up in a parking lot of a Kentucky Fried Chicken wondering what to do. Asking a passerby, we're directed to Beale Street, of course. So off we go, RoadPattie in the lead. We get to Beale Street, looking for parking which is nowhere to be found in the heavy street traffic. Stopped at the next red light, she turns around and shouts back, "Where do you think we should park?" Everyone laughs at her, saying, "Why didn't you pull in where all the BIKES were?" We've lucked out, it's Bike Night on Beale Street, but Janet was concentrating on the road so much, she entirely MISSED seeing it. (I have to say, I was concentrating so much on not hitting her, I missed it too. LOL.) Three right turns get us to the proper place, and we ride into the slow parade of a Bike Night.

Woo, party time in Memphis, a town that knows how to throw a great party! We wander the street for a while, drinking in the sights and sounds, enjoying ourselves thoroughly. Blues blares from every doorway. There are hundreds of bikes, more arriving every minute. We select Pig On Beale for dinner and sit down to superb barbeque. Dinner is one of those fabulous ones where everyone is in a wonderful happy mood, and these Texas ladies are hysterically funny ... they'll have you in stitches the whole night. I laughed so much my face hurt.

Afterwards, more wandering to see the sights of Memphis, before we finally straggle back to the west side of the Mississippi to get sleep for the last leg of the journey to Tennessee tomorrow. We accidentally get on the riverfront road heading back, which is perfectly wonderful, the lights shining across the dark water of this, the greatest river in America. I am entirely happy.

Next: Day Five

2005 Day 3

Start: Tucumcari NM (32356)
End: Shawnee OK (32760)
404 miles

Today is an uneventful day, and still extremely hot. We head out of Tucumcari fairly early, knowing that there will probably be a lot of breaks due to the heat. I am riding by myself again, since this is an arrangement that is working well for everyone.

In Vega TX, I jump off the interstate to explore a little Route 66 silliness in Oldham County. Somehow I had googled to Dot's Mini Museum a few months ago, and even more amazing, remember it today. So I detour briefly off I-40 and manage to go right through the happening town of Vega (population 200-something) without ever spotting Dot's digs. I did see the Vega Motel, an original Route 66 motor lodge that is still open for business. This stuff is kinda fun, and you can waste a bunch of time poking around in flyspeck towns like this, but I hop back on the interstate instead, and keep heading east.

Amarillo TX is my sole gas stop in the Lone Star State. Traffic is not too bad. It's a quick trip across the panhandle, and I'm in Oklahoma by midmorning. I get gas in Erick, then my next stop is at the National Route 66 Museum in Elk City, OK. (I stopped here last year, but had forgotten ... pulling into the parking lot and recognizing the place brings a smile.) I buy Suzanne a cheesy deck of cards at the museum gift shop. I love road tchotskes. More road junk shopping at one of those hysterically bogus "Indian Trading Posts" at some forgotten town on I-40. I think it'd be nice to get Miz and Bloody some gifts; they've offered last-minute to let me room with them. The whole problem with the bike is you're very limited in space and therefore any gifts you pick up must be SMALL. I end up selecting pocket knives and shot glasses, emblazoned with 'Oklahoma' and 'Route 66' stuff. Hope everyone will like their baubles.

I stop for gas in El Reno OK and find that I've caught up with Marty, Kathy and Bob. We chat for a while at the pumps. I think they left an hour or two before me in the morning, so I'm making pretty good time even with a few extra stops. They said they had run into Della (MagentaMomma from RSBS) at their previous gas stop ... she was on her way from Oregon to Plano TX before heading to Murfreesboro. Small world, huh? She had spotted the Rumble Sisters sticker on Kathy's windshield and had rolled in to the station hollering "Rumble Sisters rule!" Of course they all knew who SHE was immediately. Not too many six-foot-one ladies running all over the country on a 1800cc Goldwing painted metal-flake magenta. Heh.

I am first to arrive at the hotel in Shawnee, OK, and that's the real highlight of the day. Carrie from TX had ridden up to have dinner with me, and I had never met her in real life before, so it was a true pleasure to meet & get to know my Amazon sister. Here in Shawnee, Marion and Marsha (from Utah) join our group heading to Tennessee. Also, RoninK9 and Mel from RSBS - sort of locals - join our group for dinner, so I get to meet them as well. It's a great evening, convivial and happy. Carrie and I stay up late talking about life, the universe, and Amazons in general. We head off to bed after 10:30 pm, a late night for a road day.

Next: Day Four

2005 Day 2

Start: Flagstaff AZ (31854)
End: Tucumcari NM (32356)
502 miles

Our group meets up at the designated gas stop in Flagstaff AZ bright and early. Today is planned to be a long day, we have reservations to stay in Tucumcari tonight, which is a long haul across desert interstate. Today will be on the boring side.

For our ride to Tennessee, we have Kathy and Bob from San Diego, Marty from Quartzsite, Sue from Phoenix, Turbo from Flagstaff, and me. We have riders that like to go fast and riders that like to go slow, so we decide to split into two groups. Marty, Kathy and Bob nominate themselves as the slowpokes/lots-of-stops group. Bob is pulling a trailer on his Valkyrie and you lose stability over 65 mph with that setup. Sue and Turbo like to go fast; they have big bikes just made for this kind of travel. I'm the tweener. My bike is the littlest and has the smallest tank, so I go a little slower and need to stop for gas more frequently than they do. It's decided that I'll ride tailgunner with Turbo and Sue, and I tell them if I fall behind, not to worry, I'll catch up with them sooner or later.

So off we go. It's a beautiful morning and a glad thing to be on the road. A couple miles outside of Flagstaff, there's a dead deer on the side of the road, just a reminder to me to be cautious. An hour or two into the ride (I think it was after our gas stop in Holbrook), Turbo starts doing this thing that freaks us out. She starts drifting to the right, catches herself as she's about to run onto the shoulder, a whole bunch of times. Girl is obviously sleepy on the bike. Finally she pulls off for a little rest break. She says this happens to her sometimes in the mornings, and she'll be OK with a twenty minute stop, and do we mind? We tell her by all means to take as much time as she wants!!!

There's billboard outside of Winslow, promoting the town, which says "Stand on the corner in Winslow, Arizona." Heh. There's also lots of "Historic Route 66" markers along the way. I don't stop and do any side-road detours along here. I've seen a bunch of it before.

Crossing the great flat desert brings us into Gallup NM, where we stop for gas. A headwind has sprung up and while it's not fierce, it knocks enough off my top speed so I can't do 80 mph any more, and now I can't keep up with the big girls. While the VLX is a great little bike, lightweight and manuverable, my big butt on top of a loaded-down 600cc is not a great recipe for speed. The wee beastie labors to stay at 75 mph, the speed limit out here. I drop further and further behind. After a while, the girls are out of sight.

There's a whole lot of nothing to the west of Albuquerque, and my tank is getting low. Where the heck are the gas stations? I've been on reserve for over thirty miles when the next gas finally appears, a casino/rest stop just west of Albuquerque. Yay. I was just bording on "getting nervous." Turbo is waiting for me on the off-ramp, and I follow her in to the pumps. Turbo says, "I thought you must be pretty low on gas by now." I tell them, "I didn't know if you were stopping, but I was going to whether or not you were here." We proceed to the designated lunch stop on the east side of Albuquerque, thinking to have a leisurely lunch and wait for Bob and Kathy and Marty to show up. I have a pretty lousy salad bar and the world's saltiest chicken soup. After an hour, we're still wondering where our slow group is. I'm not particularly worried, but I hope they haven't run into any mechanical difficulties. I think Sue is a bit more worried, though. We call and leave messages on cell phones, but phone contact is always sporadic in these situations. You can't answer while you're riding. Finally, we decide to continue on, and I take off first. The girls, who didn't tank up at the casino, need to fill up here. They'll probably catch me down the road somewhere.

So, I'm on my own through eastern New Mexico, which is no problem at all. I love solo riding ... back roads, interstates, whatever. It makes me happy and whole. There's an old saying that you never see a motorcycle in front of a psychiatrist's office. Wind and freedom cures the anxieties of 21st century life, or at least I've found it so. I enjoy the countless small pleasurable sights of the road: a pretty mesa, an interesting-looking bird, a town with a funny name, a kid in the backseat to wave at. The headwind still dogs me, so I don't worry about blasting down the road, just patiently make my miles. Another gas stop, in the middle of nowhere. With the load and the wind, I am stopping pretty much every 100 miles.

Now, about 60 miles from Tucumcari NM, I notice the thunderhead that's been way off in the distance all day suddenly appears to be quite close to me. Heh. It snuck up on me when I wasn't looking. I can see the dark streaks underneath the cloud, it is definitely raining in there, and looks like I am heading right into it. Oh well. Since losing my raingear yesterday, I am resigned to the fact that if I get wet, I'll get wet, and not much to be done about it. It's bloody damn hot anyway so it won't be a horrible thing. Gusty winds start to kick up a bit as I get close to the squall line, but not too bad. Then, just as I appear to be about to plunge into the rain, the highway takes a northward veer, skirting around a mesa, taking me around the thundercloud. Hey, looks like I may have luck today! I see some lightning to my right, but don't hear the boom. I wonder if it's too far away to hear, or if the noise is being swallowed by the roar of wind and motor, muffled by the earplugs I'm wearing. It's hard to judge distances out here in the wide-open spaces.

Just when I think I have gotten past the dark clouds and avoided all the rain, it catches me, outside of Cuervo NM. It comes down suddenly and heavy, a real desert cloudburst, and the temperature immediately drops a good blessed twenty degrees. It feels so great, I don't even mind the wet. I slow a little out of caution, but the road is a good straight shot with no construction, and the rain doesn't last for very long. By the time I roll in to Tucumcari, I'm dry and the temp has risen again. I get a little lost but finally locate the hotel, a Travelodge, in a run-down looking part of the old Route 66 road through the town proper. It's around 7:00 pm and I am surprised to be the first one to arrive; the girls never did catch me on the road. Walking to my room, I see motorcycles pull in so I head over to greet my friends ... oh, wait, too many bikes (six), this is some other group! Turns out it's a CMA group from Texas, heading for the Grand Canyon. We chat for a bit, and wish each other a good ride, then I head to my room to shower off the day's grime. Clean and dressed in fresh clothes, I walk out and find Sue and Turbo just pulling in. They tell me they had a couple of long breaks (the heat, ya know) and that's why they never did pass me on the road. We try to get dinner at the next-door restaurant but they don't serve beer, and Turbo sort of had her mind set on having one, so I volunteer to run down to the Circle K up the street and pick up a six-pack and noshies. We content ourselves with conversation, cervesas, chips and salsa, and chicarones for dinner. Heh. Glad I had that salad for lunch.

The slower group doesn't pull in until well after dark, around 9:30. They'd taken lots of heat breaks, too, and it's been a long day for them. We're glad they've landed safe and sound for the night, but we're all ready for bed by now.

An aside: here in Tucumcari, I've become a curbhopper. Arriving at the hotel, I somehow managed to miss the two driveways and jumped the curb that was only three or four feet in between them. I blame the glare of the setting sun, heh, but I am glad I hit it straight-on! That could have been a pretty stupid spill. A four-inch curb makes a pretty good jolt anyway. Then, guess what I did as I was leaving the Circle K? Yup, missed the driveway again and went right off the curb. (They're a lot easier going down than going up.) I don't know why they seem to be so hard to spot in New Mexico. LOL.

Next: Day Three

2005 Day 1

Start: Sherman Oaks CA (31362)
End: Flagstaff AZ (31854)
492 miles


Up early, loaded up and out the door for my three-week vacation. The Official First Odometer Reading is 31362.3 miles. Sunday morning traffic is light. I am heading to Barstow to pick up 1-40, to head east to my first destination, Murfreesboro TN.

Of course I didn't eat breakfast ... I managed to clean just about everything out of my fridge before leaving so there was nothing to nosh at home. So I stop for a quick bite in the Cajon Pass, a couple of chicken soft tacos at Del Taco. It's the start of Weird Road Eating, I guess. Thus fortified, I continue on.

Just past Barstow (in Nebo, actually) there's one of those brown signs saying "Historic Route 66" and I think, why the hell not, and pop off the interstate. I've been on parts of this stretch of old 66 before, parts of it not, but never on a motorcycle. Might as well start the adventure now! The road parallels I-40 for a little while, passing through towns now made dusty and deserted by the interstate, and then swings south through the middle of the California desert. Closed gas stations and motels are markers of motor history. Lookie there, it's the World Famous Bagdad Cafe, ratty and run-down yet still open for business, apparently. It's worth stopping for a picture. Just outside of Amboy, I see a bunch of tennis shoes hung up in a smoke tree ... urban legend holds that tennis shoes hung on telephone wires mark a drug dealer's location; I wonder what it means out here? LOL. Then, past the Cadiz road, what I imagine to be the local kids have taken stones and spelled out messages on the highway berm, like the coral on the lava beds of the Ironman Triathlon in Hawai'i. This amuses me. Most of the messages are of the "Jenny + Greg 4Ever" variety. Speaking of lava beds, there's some really impressive ones out here, and a couple of craters, that I have never spotted from the interstate.

I stay on old 66 as far as it will take me. The road is not good, very full of potholes in places. The day grows hotter. 66 finally runs out about 23 miles before Needles and the Arizona border, and I am forced back on to the interstate. Gas costs a LOT in Needles, the middle-of-nowhere price this week is $2.999/gal for unleaded 87. Yikes. Again, I bless my small tank, it never costs very much to fill it.

I fill up again in Kingman AZ, and again in Williams. Oh, crap! In Williams, I am switching gear and as I go to tie down my jacket, my brain takes a few seconds to parse what is wrong with what I'm looking at ... hey, there's something missing from my bike! Where is my sissy bar bag? It's flown off somewhere between Kingman and Williams, and that means it's gone gone gone. I'd had it tied on with zip ties, but they were the little ones, and obviously not sufficient for the job. In the bag was my rainsuit, my winter-weight gloves, and a couple of tools. Well, I didn't like that rain suit anyway. I'll pick up a cheapo replacement at a Wal-Mart somewhere. Yeah, everything is replacable, but still a pain in the butt. You'd think I'd learn, but for me it's not a road trip if something doesn't go flying off the bike at least once. At least I'm getting it out of the way on day one. Heh.

I pull into Flagstaff and check in to my room for the night, a Motel 6. It'll do. I call Turbo, who lives here, and who is having dinner at her house for the gang heading out tomorrow. Marty, Kathy and Bob have already arrived. Sue will be coming in later. Turbo hops in her car and comes down to pick me up. It's burgers and brats for dinner, and shrimp, and coleslaw and potato salad and some really fabulous cheesecake. Yum. This will be the last home-cooked food for a while.

Eventually we say our goodnights, Turbo gives me a lift back to the hotel, and everyone beds down early for our 7:00 am start tomorrow. We want to beat some of the heat through Arizona.

Next: Day Two

More road stories, coming soon ...

I am leaving in a week for the Next Big Summer Vacation. Plans, what plans? As far as I have 'em, here they are:

1) Riding to Murfreesboro, TN, for the RSBS Annual. I am meeting up with a few of the Rumble Sisters in Flagstaff and riding in with them. These ladies (unlike me) are the planning types & they even know where they are stopping for GAS on the way. Me, I just prefer to get up in the morning, point the bike in whatever direction I want to go, and ride until I am tired. When the tank goes on reserve, I look for gas. When the sun goes down, I look for a motel. LOL not these ladies. So ... I know I am staying in Tucumcari NM, Shawnee OK, and W Memphis AR along the way. I even have hotel reservations ;)

2) After the Rumble Sisters annual, I'm think I'm going to shoot over to Deal's Gap with Jo, Scorch, et al, then back to Nashville to visit with my friend Nancy for a day or two. Then, it's over to Missouri to visit with my sister & fambly, check out the new dome, etc.

3) From there, who knows. I might zip up to South Dakota. I've always wanted to see Mt Rushmore, the Badlands, all that. The original plan was to head to Boise ID for the WOW Ride-in. Maybe, maybe not. Depends on money, time, and how I feel. Today I am leaning towards yes.

I'll be home in July, just not sure when.

Purple Belt, and mundane life

Welp, yesterday was my test for purple belt. It was held at another dojo, with more senseis, and I was warned it would be tougher than the previous tests. Oh, were they ever right about that. I dutifully increased my water consumption for the entire week before the test, running to the ladies' room every half hour at work and wondering if it was enough (um, nope, it wasn't.)

The good news is, I knew the damn cigarettes were killing me and I had to put 'em away sometime soon, so knowing that karate was getting harder and harder just as I was impairing my ability to breathe more and more was what finally motivated me to quit, cold turkey. Haven't had a smoke since March 22. One day at a time, my friends.

So the belt test went on for about four hours (!!!) and I am happy to say I made it through, even though it felt like I was gonna die. LOL. I think everyone says that about tests; they're supposed to challenge you a lot. I do have my serious doubts about making through the next test, which would be blue belt, if it increases in difficulty that much more ... and it will. Oh, you can bet it will. Heh. My sensei says that they won't send up anyone who isn't ready for the test, and that when it's time I'll be able to do it just fine. He's right. Of course he is. It's just ... trusting him and trusting myself is the hard part for me ;)

I get to wear a black gi now. Heh. (Thanks, dearheart!)

Haven't been riding a lot, what with the on and off rain all this spring. Minnie and I rode up to San Luis Obispo for a sandwich, just because we're loony. We felt like riding all day. It was a good day. And a good sandwich, LOL. I am looking forward to summer weather, which will be here soon with any luck!

Oh, and that woman who broke my heart two years ago? The one I'm still in love with? (Yeah, her.) I had dinner with her last week & it was actually pleasant, a convivial and chatty meal, so at least she's not calling me names any more. I have no idea why she wanted to have dinner with me. Odd, isn't it? Her invite came out of the blue. When I spend any time thinking about it, I react with suspicion, then a tiny ray of hope, then dope-smack myself for hoping for anything. Gods, I am still so fragile about her. I'm hanging in. It's all I can do. I refuse to walk down that path towards self-destructiveness again.

Rain rain go away

I am so sick of this freakin' rain. I used to love rain. Now that I ride, I can't stand wet days. I squandered a beautiful weather day yesterday, I needed to get a new front tire on the bike, so I didn't get out. Well, the front tire was pretty bald so it's a good thing I got a new one. Today, met up with Ladyhawke and Jude for a little ride. The original plan was to meet in Corona and do Ortega Hwy. Heading out, it was a gloomy morning, foggy and misty enough where drops collected on my visor and windshield, but not really what you could properly call rain. I found Jude at Toms Farms and we waited around for LH, and half an hour late my phone rings ... she's gotten lost, the poor directionally-challenged dear, and ended up in Fallbrook (!) so Jude and I hop on the scoots and head half an hour down the road and find her. From there, a little more wandering & stopped for lunch at a Denny's, and chatted it up for a good long while. From there, we all headed home, so Ortega will wait for another day. The weather never did turn nice like I thought it would. On my way back, it got downright nasty in the San Gabriel Valley, and the mist and drizzle turned into real rain and here I was on the 210 without any raingear with me and this freeway always gets jammed up coming into Pasadena in the afternoon, I don't know why. Slick roads, Sunday drivers and a new wheel made me VERY nervous. I actually got off the freeway for a bit (the section where everyone sees the brake lights in front of them & starts changing lanes suddenly) and rode surface streets for a while. Got home safe and sound, thank you Goddess. My nice clean bike, which I'd spent a little time polishing on Saturday, is a mess again. Oh well ;)

Orange Belt

It's a funny thing about tests, ya know. For my yellow belt, I felt nervous as all get-out, worried about it so much that I could barely sleep the night before. Then, I nailed the thing. I was happy and exhausted afterward, pleased to have done well, proud of mastering the first basics of Shaolin.

Today I tested for orange belt. Man, felt like I sucked. What happened to the skills, the next tiny portion of knowlege, that I'd been working on so hard for these past couple of months? I knew the stuff, my muscles & my nerves & my brain had all their bits, but just couldn't seem to work together today. I stumbled. I hesitated. I was sloppy. The test felt like it went on and on and on (though I think it did not go on for very much longer than the first one) and it felt like drowning. Just let me get through this, I kept telling myself. I'll do better next time. I'll get another chance to do this right. Just keep going. Hold together. Never quit.

Well, I passed. I wasn't sure I would, but I did. I'm not so pleased and happy about this one, though. Everyone has an off day and today was certainly one for me. I didn't like how that felt, so just a reason to work harder, I guess.

New York

Spent New Year's in New York City, visiting with Amazon sisters. The trip started off badly. I am a big old flying coward, and decided on the traditional Hit The Airport Bar (Hard) technique of calming my midflight nerves. This was a mistake. I was stinking drunk on the plane & I don't do 'stinking drunk' so well anymore, so I felt more sick than mellow. Then, the plane was to land & refuel in Nashville, but that airport was fogged in, so after circling for about an hour and a half, we diverted to Louisville. We weren't allowed off the plane (since this particular airline doesn't fly out of Louisville) and instead had to sit on the tarmac for two and a half hours before the fog in Tennessee finally lifted enough for us to return to Nashville, let off and take on more passengers, and proceed to LaGuardia. Sheesh. I was still kinda green around the gills when Tee picked me up at the airport, and glad to be off that damn plane. Tee laughed at me & my extreme lack of luggage. For a five day visit, I had one small carry-on and my camera. Heh, I believe in traveling light.

Linda and Diane arrived a few hours later, and I rested back at home when Tee went to pick them up, and was feeling a little better by the time everyone was together. So the trip was improving after an inauspicious start :)

The weather in New York was surprisingly good. It was warm enough for the snow that fell a few days ago was mostly melted. It even got up in the fifties some days, so it certainly wasn't the beastly temps I was expecting.

This was a pretty low-key visit, mostly just hanging out and being together, with two major events planned. The first was we would do the whole New Year's Eve in Times Square thing. The second was going to the Cowboys-Giants game at the Meadowlands on January 2nd. Trina would be playing on the New York Sharks squad as part of a halftime exhibition scrimmage.

So as New Year's Eve rolled around, we pile on the train to ride from Long Island to Manhattan, laughing and giggling and the out-of-towners (me and Linda and Diane) carrying on like the geeky tourists we are and the natives (Tee and Trina) mocking us. Good times. We got to Times Square before sundown and let me tell you, it was already a madhouse. NYPD had started blocking off streets, making it hard to move around. We went in circles for a while trying to get to Rockerfeller Plaza (I wanted to photograph the ice rink & the statue there) but couldn't get to it, we weren't allowed to walk down the streets we needed to get there. We gave up after a while, and wandered down to the main part of Times Square you see on the television. The sun was setting, it was around five p.m., the streets were getting packed ... you could still move around, they weren't yet jammed like they would be in a few hours, but you were consistently jostled anywhere you went ... and standing around for seven hours in a sea of drunken humanity suddenly seemed like not such a good idea. I have a bad knee, Linda has a bad ankle, and I think Tee gets pretty grumpy at crowds, especially large stupid ones. (Maybe I'm projecting here and it's me that gets grumpy. LOL.) We decided to bail and head down to the Village, to get dinner and then spend the evening at one of the local drinking establishments. This plan turned out to be much better. We ate at Cowgirl and then walked down to Rubyfruit, where we all got drunk as lords. We had a great time being the loud table ordering a zillion Cosmos, wearing silly hats, making drunk phone calls to our Amazon sisters ;) I'm afraid that Diane had a bit too much to drink -- a relative thing at this point, but she needed the most assistance walking -- and taking this into account, we timed our return to Long Island very well, getting on the train BEFORE the one that's jam-packed with revellers going home. We had to carry her off the train when we got to our stop while Tee held the door open with her body, glaring knives at the conductor, but we got our butts safely home and in bed, ready to nurse the wicked hangovers that were sure to come the next day.

New Year's Day was watching football & a little hair of the dog, you know, the typical thing. It was pretty funny, I thought -- midday, on our third televised game or so, I looked around the room and realised I was the only one who was awake, everyone else was sacked out on the various couches and recliners. Tee made a fabulous dinner to celebrate New Year's Day, and a few more friends came over for a festive little get-together. And Tee is a woman who knows her wine. (grin) We went downstairs to admire Tee's project bike after dinner, she's building a bobber out of an old Kawa. Lotta work to be done, the project's just getting started. It's going to look supremely cool when she finishes.

Next day was game day. Sharks were playing at halftime of the Cowboys vs Giants, so Trina was nervous, as you would expect. We trekked down to Meadowlands Stadium ... ha, that's the New Jersey scenery I remember ... and it turns out our seats were pretty damn good, we were in the first row of the mezzanine. Neither the 'Boys or the Giants were playing terribly well, but it was the final game of the season and both teams were out of the playoffs, so it was a pride/rivalry game anyway. Eli Manning was still looking for his first NFL win, but stunk it up the first half. The crowd was grumbling and booed him a little. Heh. Halftime, the NFL players quit the field and the Sharks hustled on, and ran a scrimmage on half of the field ... unfortunately, they were down by the end zone that was farther away from us, but we still had a great view. Trina got in for a few plays; I remember her coming in on defense for a third-down play and she flat-out sprinted to get to the corner from the other sideline. We laughed and cheered her on -- fastest player on the field! or at least the one who was showing the most motor! LOL. I listened to the crowd comments around me. A lot of folks were ignoring the halftime display but I heard a few "hey, check this out"s and "wow, those are girls?" from the masses. During the third quarter, Trina showed up at our seats still dressed in her game pants but carrying her helmet pads & jersey, and watched the rest of the game with us. In the stands, and also on the way back to the car in the parking lot, she got quite a few "Good game, Sharks" comments, so some people were paying attention, I guess. I hope the Sharks win some new fans with their exhibition. Manning pulled out his first win, by the way, with a last minute drive to beat the 'Boys. It was kinda fun to see Jerry Jones get roundly booed by the crowd, too.

Flew home the next day (today), this time with no delays or incidents, and also without massive amounts of alcohol. :)

Thank you Tee and Trina for your hospitality! It is so very appreciated!

Election blues

Oh, GAWD. Another four years of that trained monkey in the White House? Heaven help us all. How could the Dems screw it up that badly? How could they NOT beat the idiot favorite son?

The guy has his supporters, lots of 'em, but I sure as hell don't see why. I really, really, REALLY dislike him with intensity.

And don't even get me started on the eleven states that say I cannot marry. Not like I'm gonna marry anyone but it is discouraging (to put it mildly) that the electorate denies me the legal right to do so, and by such a large margin. Sigh. Is progress an illusion?