Part 2 of #16: After returning from Puerto Rico, a friend of mine helped me get a job at USS Geneva Steel in April of 1973, a fully integrated steel mill in Orem, Utah. I went to work as a laborer in the Blast Furnace Dept cleaning runners on the blast furnace, I was soon able to transfer to the Sintering Plant working shift work. As July approached, I realized I was really missing my bike. It was still down at my mother's house in New Orleans. The schedule clerk was a good friend of mine, so I told him about my plight, and he agreed to scheduled me for an 88hr change (end of one shift to the start of another). I phoned my mom and told her I was coming and why and that I was on short time to get back for my next shift. I got off work at 8:00 am had my wife drive me to the airport and caught an 11:00AM flight for N.O.
I don't remember how long the flight was, but I got to Mom's in the late afternoon. I spent the rest of the afternoon/evening getting the bike ready for the quick trip back to Pleasant Grove (Home). I went to bed, got up early and headed up US61. I was flying low and somewhere North of Alexandria, La, a Firebird wanted to race, and I was able to stay ahead of him for a few miles, but then I thought I really did want to make it home, so I backed off and let them go. I did continue on at higher then allowed speeds and stopped for the night the far side of Tyler, Tx.
Again, starting early in the morning, I flew low across Texas on those beautiful Texas roads, taking 275 North out of Childress until picking up I40, US 66 out of Amarillo, Tx. I stopped for a break and to change the BMW oil at a roadside rest area. The R75/5 only carried 2qts in its sump, and I knew it was coming on 3,000 miles since the last change. As I was finishing up, a trucker pulled into the rest area and asked me if I wanted a beer. As I don't drink any alcohol, I declined but I did ask for some water, but all he had was the melted ice in the cooler, so I drank that, and boy, did it feel good.
I pushed on, as I needed to make Mancos, CO before the end of the day. As time was rolling on, I passed up a chance to stop at Clines Corners, and gassed in Albuquerque, then headed North on 666 towards Ship Rock and Gallup. A little way outside of Albuquerque a truck load (cab and bed) full of Navajo passed me going over 80MPH. I know they were going that fast because I was going 70MPH and they very quickly disappeared. Soon a big Impala likewise loaded passed me going a similar speed, so I bumped the BeeMer up to 80 MPH. Then two more cars passed me, so I went to 90MPH. They were still passing me. 100, still passing me, and scaring me to death. When the BMW topped out at 110 and I was still getting passed, I quit! That road was like a roller coaster, and I was leaving the ground at the top of the little hills, so enough was enough. Oh, did I say it was Saturday evening and since they all had a beer in their hands, you can guess what condition they were in. I got to Gallup well after dark and crashed for the night.
Leaving a little later than I wanted the next morning, I headed for Cortez. Just outside of Cortez, I spotted a Green Norton and its rider parked on the side of the road. I was in a hurry, but I stopped anyway. I saw he was messing with the ignition side of the Norton and asked him what was wrong. He said it isn't running right and I saw that the auto advance was in his hand, so I asked him why. He said he didn't think the timing was right and he was trying to reset the advance. Being an Ex-Norton dealer and mechanic, I saw right away he was in trouble. I asked him if he had his factory tool kit with him, and the owner's manual. He did and he gave them to me, so I sat down on the side of the road and redid his ignition, and along the way taught him how to do it himself. When I was done, he started it up and it sounded great.
We rode into Cortez, now late afternoon, I hadn't eaten since breakfast and my newfound friend needed to stop for food too. Riding down Main Street, we spotted the proverbial "hole in the wall" restaurant. Somebody had literally put a roof and a floor over an alley and made a restaurant out of it. It was a Mexican restaurant and when we went in, nobody spoke English, so we knew we had chosen well. Fortunately, I speak Spanish well, so we were treated well. I was going to push on and sleep somewhere on the side of the road when I got tired, and I was running low on money. My new friend offered to pay for the motel for helping him get his bike straightened out, so I said yes.
The next morning, we went in search of breakfast and ended up back at the same restaurant. Ordered Huevos Rancheros, and the waitress asked us if we wanted chips and salsa or biscuits and gravy. We chose biscuits and gravy. The food gods must have been with us that morning. When she brought our food, the biscuits were piled 3 layers high on a big dinner plate and the gravy came in bowl as big as a soup tureen. There was enough food there for 4 people. Last gas stop was in Green River, Ut, and I motored into my home driveway 2 hours too late for starting my afternoon shift. I called in sick and slept the sleep of the dead. I made it in the next night. The man who filled in for me was a friend of mine, and I agreed to work a double for him when he needed it. I'd made the trip from Pleasant Grove to New Orleans to Pleasant Grove in 96 Hours. Never again!
