|
Page 7 of 20 We made it to the New Mexico border and stopped to take pictures of everyone standing in front of the "Welcome to New Mexico - Land of Enchantment" sign. One other significant event occurred - everyone took off their helmets, tied them down on the back of their bikes, and cheered. Texas was the only state on our journey that required motorcyclists to wear helmets. Although I did not take advantage of this opportunity, a majority of the group did. Hair now blowing in the breeze, we made it to Colorado with no mishaps. The stately Rockies stood at attention on our left, while the vast prairie lay sleeping on our right. The mountains welcomed us with a forty mile an hour cross wind. The blasts seemed like a giant’s hand ready to pluck me from the back of the motorcycle! Everyone leaned into the wind and we motored on. We decided to take a lunch break in Trinidad - a small mining town that bordered both sides of Interstate 25. For some reason, Tom decided to lead the way, instead of Roy. Several people in the group began shaking their heads - they knew what was coming. The rest of us blindly followed behind. It soon became apparent even to us (the uninitiated) that we were lost. We ended up in a parking lot next to a Mexican Restaurant with a large "CLOSED" sign in the front window. Tom insisted that this was THE PLACE. Our laughter was a cruel companion as he sauntered across the street to the front door. The emphatic refusal he received from the woman who answered got us all laughing again, especially when he pleaded with her, his body language speaking volumes about the desperate levels he would resort to if she refused him. Alas, none of his persuasive arguments won, and he had to make that walk toward us alone.
|