Goldwingers

Bumped into these good 'ol boys from Nashville in New Mexico. They were looking at me kinda puzzled whilst I did some minor surgery on my slowly deteriorating saddle bags (thank god I brought a roll of duct tape and plastic tie wraps). So we got to talking and they were impressed I made it out to the West coast all the way from NJ. They admired my ride, I theirs.

They each had loaded up Honda Goldwings, arguably the state of the art in motorcycle touring. Yeah, the fellas were proud to show me all the bells and whistles, the GPS, the satellite radio, the helmet radios, heck, I think I even saw a hot tub on the back of one. So they asked if I liked country music. I said I do now. They laughed and recommended I stop by the Opry in Nashville. We said our goodbyes and I said I'll see ya's down the road. They took off in their shiny Goldwings looking like a band of transformers (that's what those bikes look like to me).

I've got to say that throughout this whole trip, I've met a lot of nice people. Some people are attracted to the motorcycle and start up a conversation, some just want to know what the heck I'm doing, curious kooks. Some are just eager to talk about their rides, old rides they used to have, or plans for future rides. Like the guy working at the Shell station in Williams, AZ. I knew it was going to be cool place when I heard Bruce over the loudspeakers singing "My Home Town." The guy was nice and soft spoken. Started admiring my ride and told me about the motorcycle he built himself, all Screaming Eagle parts. His EX now owns it, he told me while frowning and sighing. Too bad paley. I tried to cheer him up. Told him things happen for a reason and he'd get a better ride soon and get out there on the saddle again. He agreed. Gave me some good riding tips for the area and told me about Ponderosa Pines (pictured here, I had to take a shot of one) and how this Northern Arizona area is the largest population of them . I don't know how he treated his old lady but he was nice with me. Sometimes useful information is traded with people, equipment, weather, road conditions, etc. Oddly, I've met an unusual number of people originally from NJ who now live out West. Hmmm.

So about 20-30 minutes after leaving that rest stop in New Mexico I'm jetting down the highway and I see the signature tailights of the 'transformers' attempting to pass some tractor trailors in their way. I kept my promise about seeing them down the road, the Nasville Boys. In fact I passed them by waving to each one as I gave them a dose of Vance and Hines Short Shot exhausts via a 1550cc V-twin Harley engine. Sweet.