There's No Place Like CoMo
Nina and I pulled into the driveway at 4:30 p.m. Friday. The journey is officially over.

This has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I know it will take some time for me to see this trip with some perspective -- to see how it affected me. But even without the clarity that distance provides, I am sure that I have gained much from this.

I'm struggling for a way to sum it up in a few paragraphs. The multitude of experiences, the variety of emotions, the highs and lows -- where do I start?

The stress of the ride out west: Being nervous about my first big ride, then immediately facing 60 mph wind gusts. Spending money on motels needlessly based on sketchy weather reports.
The experiences with my family: From the highs of enjoying their company -- sharing s'mores and laughter, to the pain of leaving family members behind on the trail, to the relief of being together to honor my brother.
Two weeks touring on my own: The joy of pursuing a goal (and having some success at it). The pride in accomplishing something under trying circumstances. The sadness of not being able to share the good times with friends and loved ones. The depression of being alone during the difficult times.

I can't scratch the surface (and yet I keep trying).

Despite the lows, I feel very lucky to have had this experience. Even when I was down, I was thinking of the positive ways that this experience is affecting me. The cathartic moment I had while sitting in the creek is sort of a microcosm of the entire trip: Something difficult that I was able to come through and learn from. A reminder to take my time, to not take things for granted, to enjoy the moment.

Thank you again to everyone who helped me out on this journey: My family for love, support, hotel rooms, food and cash. My friends for love, support, and hiking/camping/riding gear. The parks peops and the KOA folks, the random birders who pointed me in the right direction, the bikers who waved, the guy who bent Nina's foot peg back. And of course, to my Sweetie, for being everything I need.

The Totals
Distance
Total miles riden = 3812
Total days of riding = 17
Average miles riden per day = 224.24
Most miles in one day = 401

Fuel
Total gallons of gas used = 101.426
Average miles per gallon = 37.584
Total paid for gas = $279.75
Average price per gallon = $2.76
Highest price per gallon = $3.10 (Gainsville, TX)

Birds
Total species seen = 115
Total “lifers” seen = 52
Rarest bird seen = Arizona Woodpecker or Crested Caracara
Bird I wish I'd seen = Mountain Bluebird

Weights
Me w/clothes, leathers, boots = 210 lbs.
Alpaca bag = 40 lbs.
Sissybar bag = 30 lbs.
Laptop, rollbag = 20 lbs.
Tankbag, helmet, misc accessories = 10 lbs.
Sub Total = 310 lbs.
Nina w/gas = 628 lbs.
Total weight = 938 lbs.

Streams vs. Nina and Walter
Final Score: Streams 1 - Nina and Walter 4

Misc. Bests and Worsts
Most Useless Item Packed = Sibley's Guide to Eastern Birds
Scariests Moment = riding through Madera Canyon at night
Best View = Riding into Coronado National Forest
Biggest Disappointment = Fake gunfight in Tombstone

A Day Away
Today’s travels took us from Marietta, OK, through the northwest corner of Arkansas to Joplin, MO.

I stopped briefly at Tishomingo National Wildlife Refuge in Tishomingo, OK. I saw 27 species in just over an hour. No new lifers. This makes the first day since April 4 that I didn’t add a bird to my life list. I’m guessing this marks the end of my birding exploits, as I have no plans for any stops tomorrow.

My only goal for tomorrow is to get home. My hands are tired, my ass is tired... my whole body is tired. I’ve been drinking caffeine for the last couple of days, something I normally avoid. This has been an amazing trip, but I am ready for home.

Barring any mishaps, I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. This gives me the weekend to recuperate from my trip. I have a feeling I’m going to need every second of it. I could have spent two more days in the mountains of Arizona - and probably picked up a dozen more lifers - but I’m glad I made the decision to work my way home.

”This vacation has been accident free for: 004 days.”

Things I Don’t Like About Texas
The heat. I discussed this yesterday. I don’t like it this hot. Warm is nice, hot is not. Moving on.

#2. Every town I have been in has smelled, at least mildly, of oil. Did I mention this yesterday also. I think all the fumes have gone to my head. Moving on again.

#3. The grass has thorny things in it. It isn’t nice and soft like Pennsylvania grass.

#4. Despite the massive amounts of oil everywhere, the gas here is more expensive than anywhere else I’ve been. What’s up with that? They pump it out of the ground here. They refine it here. They store it here. There aren’t any bad winters to drive up heating oil prices. So why in the hell is the good stuff $3.09 per gallon? (The cheap stuff is $2.89.)

OK, Austin is cool. The birds are cool. I enjoyed the chicken sandwich at Whattaburger. And it’s the home of “Walker, Texas Ranger.” Those are all the concessions I’ll make.

Oh yeah, I picked up one lifer today (#50, I believe). As the birding flags, I’m eager to make some good time and get back to CoMo before the weekend. I need to recover from my vacation!

”This vacation has been accident free for: 003 days.”

Deep in the Heat of Texas
Yes, I left out the "r" on purpose. It was hot today.

I traveled from Carlsbad, NM, to Abilene, TX -- about 318 miles. I spent the morning on smaller roads. Not much to speak of, realy.

I took a break in the afternoon to bird Comanche Trail Park in Big Spring, TX. I was able to pick up a few (three) of those southern species.

As I suspected, the western birds are in my rear-view mirror, figuratively speaking. Swainson's Hawk, take care of yourself. Black-throated Sparrow, adieu. Bewick's Wren, until we meet again. Curve-billed Thrasher, we'll always have Silver City.

I was happy and relieved to see Robins and Cardinals in Texas. For me they were harbingers of home.

After my visit to Comanche Trail, I strapped the leathers back on and hit the highway toward Abilene. It was awful warm to be wearing black leather from head to toe. It was warm, but reasonable on the highway. But the instant we slowed down it got nasty. Seriously. Halfway down the off ramp I was itching to get my gloves off.

I was very tempted to ride without the leathers, especially seeing other bikers in much less. But I promised Sweetie that I would try to come back in one piece, so the leathers will stay on -- on the highways at least. I stripped down to jeans and a t-shirt while riding through the park today. (I was going 10 miles an hour, so I felt pretty safe.)

Tomorrow I have one park in mind, then a long ride to Oklahoma.

"This vacation has been accident free for: 002 days."

A Day for Travelingor Leaving Silver City... Again
I like the optional headline -- Rocky and Bullwinkle style.

The nearest Yamaha dealer was an hour from Silver City, so we aimed southeast and hit the throttle. I tried leaving Silver City yesterday, but after I laid Nina down in the creek, I figured we best not travel any more for the day. (See yesterday’s post for all the 411.)

Silver Springs was really nice, and the KOA peops were friendly and bird-savvy. The Gila National Forest surrounds Silver Springs, so it’s a shame that I spent little time birding the area despite staying there for two nights.

Alright, let’s live in the now.

Dude at the bike shop totally hooked me up. He bent the foot peg back as far as he dared. It’s not perfect, but he didn’t want to break the peg off by bending it back any farther. It feels completely comfortable, and it should be fine for the ride back to CoMo.

With 301 miles to Carlsbad KOA and a few hours killed taking care of Nina, I didn’t do any active birding. I picked up two lifers anyway.

On my way over a 9,000-ft. mountain near Mayhill, NM, I saw two Steller’s Jays. They are pretty distinct looking, and I knew what they were immediately, but I pulled off the road and got a good look with the specs just for good measure.

Once I reached the campground I identified a Common Poor-will. It flew up in front of me as I walked to my tent. It was fairly dark, but the bird flew right past some street lights. I knew right away that it was a member of the goat-sucker family. As soon as I hit the tent I grabbed by field guide and found it.

Tomorrow I’ll be back in Texas -- farther south than I was on the way out west. There are still some “southern” species I might be able to find there. I’m afraid I’ve seen the last of the “western” species I’m going to see on this trip.

On a personal note: At this point I’m starting to tire. I find myself thinking more and more about being at home, snuggling with Sweetie and the kittens. Sleeping in my own bed. Eating something other than Subway’s turkey and ham on white.

My body, which had been holding up nicely for a man of my age, is starting to grow a bit weary. My arms and shoulders were aching for the last few hours of my ride today. I assume that’s a result of trying twice, and then actually lifting my bike. Also, my arse was a little sore at the end of the day. With plenty of riding in my immediate future, I’m afraid these aches are just going to get worse every afternoon until I’m home.

Right now these aches seem fairly minor -- a small price to pay for an amazing experience. I’m just nervous that these “minor” aches could turn into some miserable riding if they keep getting worse.

”This vacation has been accident free for: 001 days.”

A Refreshing Dip
Alright, it was more of a “fall” than a “dip.” And it wasn’t so much refreshing either. Honestly that headline is completely wrong. Let’s start over.


Nina and I Fell in a Creekor Zen and the Art of Picking up a Bike
We’re both fine, nobody panic. Here’s the whole story:

As part of this journey, Nina and I have been on some pretty nasty back roads. Some of these back roads have included streams. Some of you might remember my mentioning the first of these stream crossings a few days ago. Since then Nina and I have crossed a few streams, all without much ado. The basic plan is: 1) Stop just before the stream to decide on the best route -- the shallowest, least rocky path. 2) Try to pick a straight line so that minimal steering is needed. 3) Get to a nice easy constant speed of 5-10 mph. 4) Close your eyes and go. (Just kidding about the last one.)

So, I’m in Silver City, NM, and the woman at the KOA directs me to this bird-specific nature preserve where I can likely find Common Black-Hawk. On the way there, I make another stop at a marshy area the KOA also suggested. I picked up the Ladder-backed Woodpecker, and I was feeling pretty good about prospects for the day.

I get to the dirt road that leads to the preserve and find yet another stream crossing. This one is different from the others I’ve forded in that it is not just a rocky stream bed that happens to intersect the road. Instead, there is a man-made concrete culvert going across the road to allow the water to cross without washing away the dirt road.

We stopped about 20 feet away. I noticed that the depth and speed of the water looked pretty constant across both lanes of the road, so I figured it would be best to just stick to the middle. I pop Nina one down, and head for the center at a nice easy 5 mph. As soon as I’m in the water I feel Nina sliding and notice that the cement we are on is covered with slimy algae. As Nina looses her footing I tried to help with one of my own. No help. When my kick hit the slimy cement I knew immediately I was not going to be able to support my own weight, let alone mine, Nina’s and 100 lbs. of gear.

What happened next happened in slow motion -- so read slowly.

I realize within moments that Nina and I are going down and I can’t stop it. Nina’s back tire, freed from the friction of the road surface, is now spinning wildly on the slime. As her body leans back towards me, she jack-knifes out to the right side. I’m still holding on to her, but gravity has already won this battle, so down we go.

Nina ends up on her side. I end up sitting beside her with my left leg still under her. Nina is a gentle thing, and is careful not to crush me. I slide my leg out and stand up to find that we both seem to be in good shape. I’m wet from the ass down, but otherwise unharmed. Nina is balancing on her left handlebar, foot peg, saddlebag and the frame just above her back tire. All the gear is still firmly in place -- and perfectly dry.

Before assessing Nina’s injuries, I immediate try to pick her up. Cars coming from one direction will not be able to see her. I try to lift her up and I can’t. When I try to lift, she slides away from me on the slime as I slide back towards the middle of the creek. I quickly unload the gear so I can try again without the extra 100 lbs. (Nina’s already packing quite the load at 628 lbs.)

Now I’m able to lift her enough so that just her wheels are on the slime. I slide her towards the edge of the creek until her tires catch on the solid ground. This gives me the leverage I need to prop her back up. (That's "rubber side down" for those of you keeping track at home.)

The rest of the story is less important. To sum up, Nina is fine -- just a slightly bent left foot peg and a shifter, which should be fairly easy to replace. The hard bags I just bought seemed to hold up well, although the new paint job will need to be touched up. The bike itself is in great shape. Not a scratch on the paint or the chrome. (Truly an incredible machine -- drop it on the ground, pick it up, keep on riding.)

So I’m spending another night in Silver City. It’s Sunday, so tomorrow I’ll take it to a nearby shop and make sure we’re cleared for travel.

I never made it to the wildlife preserve. The ironic thing is, I saw a Common Black-Hawk, the bird I was crossing the stream for, on my way into the campground tonight.

And now, your moment of Zen
Immediately after the crisis was over, I was oddly calm. Yes, I couldn’t believe how careless I was in taking the stream for granted. But I was surprised that I wasn’t more upset.

I was thinking of my brother Ojo’s theory of “Use it AND Lose it”. Simply, something only remains perfect if you don’t use it. Something you want to use and gain enjoyment from is going to eventually break.

I was also thinking of a show called “The Long Way ‘Round.” Ewan McGregor and a buddy rode bikes around the world. They were on a lot of crappy dirt roads. They fell a lot. They just picked up the bikes and kept riding, kept experiencing.

I thought to myself This is part of the adventure. This is part of the process. This is part of my life. This is going to make me the man I’m going to become. Just like everything that has happened to me before has made me the man I am now: growing up, losing a brother, birding, being married, losing a friend, moving to Columbia, getting divorced, buying a house on my own, falling in love again.

Just pick up the bike and keep riding.

30 is Down for the CountThis post is rated PG-13 for language and violent content.
I kicked 30's ass -- Chuck Norris-style. I seriously pounded 30 into submission. I gave it two quick rights -- pop, pop -- then ducked it's weak attempt at a right hook, and put it away with the left. I stood over it and said "Come on. Get up, punk. You wanna go? Oh, you think you're so big. You ain't shit!" (Apparently I am in need of some human interaction, since I am describing in detail my fight with, and subsequent taunting of, a concept.)

30 was the goal I set for myself before my trip. I was hoping to see 30 new species. I was originally thinking 50, but I didn't want to set a goal so high that I would never reach it.

Well the early numbers are in: I hit 30 last night at my campsite when I identified a Yellow-eyed Junco. After seeing nine more lifers on the trails this morning, I reached 40 this afternoon when I noticed a Curve-billed Thrasher was watching me pack up my tent. As I leave Arizona tomorrow and start to head back east, the numbers of new species I see should drop off, but at this point I think 50 is within reach. (With any luck, I'll have to adjust my goal again before this trip is over!)

Today rocked, by the way. Coronado National Forest is as beautiful from the trail as it was from the road. One of the last birds I saw before heading out was a very appropriate one -- the Arizona Woodpecker. As the name indicates, you won't find it anywhere else in this country. I thought I missed my best chance to see it when I made the decision to skip Madera Canyon, so I was very happy to get great looks at two 'Zonas on the South Fork trail.

Now it's time to plan out a strategy for New Mexico, and Texas. There's still plenty of species out there, so watch out 50. I'm coming for ya.

P.P. This is yet another make-up post. I'm trying to write every day, then post each separate day when I get the chance. So when you see a new post, there may be a few more new ones under it. For example, yesterday's post, below this one, was just put online minutes ago. Thank you. That is all.