Photo Friday: Texas

Safety Rest Area, Gray County, Texas USA.

Marco was ahead of me, leaning over against the wind. The road was straight as an arrow, the steady current of cold air forcing us to counter steer constantly. Somewhere near the Oklahoma border it had changed direction. I felt we had rode across Oklahoma on the left sides of our tires. Now we were halfway across the Texas panhandle wearing down the right.

In the late afternoon we stopped at a Safety Rest Area. Like all things in Texas, it was huge compared to the Northeast. I dismounted and pulled a tumbleweed out of my forks. I was not enthralled by our long, flat, scenic ride through the lone star state.

Texas is big. It’s hard to imagine it’s size. The panhandle afforded no majestic views of mountains. It’s flat as a pancake and not nearly as appetizing in late March. The horizon stretches on forever in the northern part of the state and in the early spring it seemed desolate.

We stepped into the cavernous space of the building. The attendant was an amiable fellow, and the sole person on property. He told us how he drove well over an hour to get to work each day. I hoped he’d get some more visitors at his lonely outpost.

Sufficiently defrosted,we bid farewell to him and continued west, looking for a roadside place to spend the night. At sunset we arrived at a motel. The place would never make the cover of any travel magazine. Unpacking the bike, I reached for my tripod. The last several hundred miles had shaken loose every bolt, dispersing them along I-40. The legs fell off at the center collar, it’s life over. I tossed it in the trash barrel near the front office. Heading back to the room, Marco informed me that snow was forecast past Amarillo on our way to New Mexico. We would change direction, giving up on reaching our planned destination, and head south past Dallas to the Gulf of Mexico.