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Arizona Chronicle No 2.After a day layover in Albuquerque, I left Margaret's, pulled out of her driveway, turned the wrong way, and spent the next 30 minutes trying to find I-40 (the way back to ABQ) Margaret had directed me to get off at Sedillo Road and find my way to Mountain Valley, which leads to another road and then to her house. Well I found Mountain Valley, and followed it down to I-40. (We know where I-40 is, because we can see the trucks driving it from way up at Margaret's house on Thunder Ridge.) So, I get to I-40 and can't get on! Furthermore, when I cross under it, and turn right (towards ABQ) it says <oh, no!!> "I-40 West Detour.") So, I can't get on for miles and miles. But…. the interesting thing…. the road is called "Old 66" and it is <gasp> ROUTE 66! Well, as I mentioned in my BZ Chronicle #3,, many of us have a mystical affinity for "Route 66." It was a great jazz song, and a wonderful TV series with two guys roaming the highway in a Corvette, with a great theme song that had a piano riff that you could identify for years. (My son Tim still plays that riff when we do the jazz song.) So here I am, Getting My Kicks on the old Route 66, for about 10 or 15 miles, while the detour signs kept me off of I-40 and directed me down the mountain to ABQ. Eventually, enuf kix, I hit I-25 South, which would take me down to the next interstate, I-10, at Las Cruces. The night before, my Sweetie advised me to find a "pet-friendly" motel there. I selected a Motel 6, which advertises itself as "the Pet-Friendly Motel." Knowing I had a place to stay was comforting. Finally on I-25 South, Betsy was behaving badly!! Hard to steer, swerving, pulling the trailer from side to side. "Oh my gosh!" I thought. "My idler arm (which I have replaced twice) has gone out. " I drove along with terrible dreary thoughts of a stop at a garage to have it replaced again. The road is well-traveled, and dotted with Indian reservations. The remarkable thing about these is that they sell (apparently tax-free) cheap gas. For example, gas in ABQ was $3.49 a gal. and on the reservations it was $3:08 or $3.10. I stopped about fifteen miles out of ABQ for gas and mechanical inspection. In addition to cheap gas, the rest of the stop is interesting, because the station itself appears to be a shambles. Everyone speaks Spanish, and things are organized in a definitely "non-Gringo way." As usual (as in Belize) you can either find this irritating or charming. For instance, at the first island, there was a set of pumps that were diesel only. Then, there was another little building, with savaged (non-functional) pumps in front of it. It was the restaurant! After gassing, I went inside the big "regular" station-house, and asked about the rest rooms. "Los Banos?" "Over at the restaurant." !!!!!!!!!!!! I moved Betsy out in the field next to the station, obviously the place to turn a semi-truck around. There is a memorable old truck-driving song called… "Give me 40 acres and I'll turn this rig around…" a song I resonated with after trying to back Betsy and the trailer a couple of times. I inspected Betsy. The right rear tire was low!!! I put on my little compressor, and read the gauge… 10 POUNDS!!! Holy shit!!!!!!!!!!!!. Supposed to be 35-40 pounds with that big load I was carrying and hauling. I turned on the compressor and stood behind the truck (sheltering me from everything but wilderness) and urinated. That's one thing great about being a man. TO A MAN, ALL THE WORLD IS A URINAL. While the pump was pumping away, I checked my steering. NO play! No problem with the idler arm. The entire problem was one low tire!!! Yet another thing learned. Later, I would talk to an old over-the-road trucker at a rest stop and he would reaffirm that one low tire can screw up all of your steering!!! Back on the road, we made great time to Las Cruces. The road is classic New Mexico, mostly flat or long rolling hills, with lots of great desert scenery… mountains off in the distance in every direction. I thought about the mountains, and the scenery, which is mostly uninhabited. I realized that I was probably looking at more area that the entire country of Belize!! … because the mountains are so far off. And virtually uninhabited, except by scorpions, snakes and Coyotes. (pun intended) I stopped for food a couple of times, and basically took my time, because, according to my guidelines listed in Chronicle #1, we were making better than 50mph. We got into Las Cruces before 5pm, I got a room 'way around back (where they wouldn't notice that I had a cat as well as a dog) and also had a great place to park Betsy and the trailer. I walked down to the Wottaburger on the corner, and had a big meal, complete with the French Fries I'm not supposed to eat on my Lo-Carb diet. "I've got a dispensation from the Pope" I thought/// altho I'm not Catholic. (!!!!!!!!) Walking back, I stopped at the Chevron station and picked up a 32-oz can of Budweiser Light and Clamato Juice, complete with salt and lime.(!!!!!!!) It was only $2, and well worth it. (They're more expensive in AZ.) I can recommend this to anyone who craves a "red beer" as we call it in Colorado. It oughta be made with Coors, but wot the heck? It made my call to my AZ sweetie even sweeter. After a great night's sleep, I checked the tires, pumped them up a little, and got gas at that very same Chevron station. Off to AZ, eh? Sr. reek
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