Rode across Oklahoma and Texas in triple digit heat. What a ride! Driving along the mother road was a ride back in time. The asphalt ribbon is narrow by today's standards, and undulates in a soothing rhythm. Oak trees lined the sides of the rode in places. Along other sections the route is framed by farms and fields. I found myself slowing down emotionally,mentally, physically. When I drove down Interstate 40, it all changed back to something much more familiar. Kick it up. Make some time. How many miles to the next town?
But that was not the whole experience. Some was a disturbing glimpse into a paralell universe, but not one in a sci fi dimension. Age and decay. I see enough of that every time I look in the mirror. Old and rundown is not pretty. Neither were the depressed portions of the towns I passed. Route 66 was once the future of our country. It was exciting and hopeful. Now hope appears to be about all some of these towns have to live on.
Of course, much of their present hope relies on tourism. Is there any? You bet! Smokey Joe's Cafe in Amarillo was a biker bedlam, or haven, or delightful oasis for the weekend rogues. Biggest surprise to me...the Midpoint Cafe in Adrian served lunch to a group of thirty-one bikers from Norway! Happens a lot. Italy, Spain, Germany. It's truly an international attraction. I ran into a group of a half dozen bikers from Japan.The world is in love with the mother road, and in many cases Harley as well. Any thoughts as to the attraction? I'm glad it's there for wharever reason.
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