Date: Fri, 7 Feb 1997 12:29:34 -0500
From: Charlie Ford <cford@mindspring.com>
Subject: Westward Hoe!!!

Wednesday;
This morning I awoke early to cloudy skies and the sincere threat of snow
on Llama Mountain. The wind blew hard and the clouds rushed about like
builders trying to contruct a large boll of cotton.  The skies to the west
looked ominous and full of mystery.

Over the past few days I have had the privilege to sit on a front porch
witha million dollar view. From Ted Allens porch you could see
approximately 120 miles and distinguish landmarks that told where you were
looking.  Landmarks like the mountains that rise just a few miles east of
Albequerque which ly a couple hundred miles to the south of where i stood.
At night you could make out the twinkling lights of cities some 50 miles
away.  This was another the stoop for the lower floor of heaven.

Along with the pleasure always is some pain.  I have had the honor and
privilege of having to use an outhouse in thirty degree weather and
suffered the painful yet invigorating agony of taking a lukewarm bath, this
in itself teaches one many things like the rule of getting to the job at
hand, secondly it teaches one's that anatomy can imitate the turtle and
withdraw into hiding in such cool temperatures.  When one is already minute
ths is somewhat scary.

In this part of the country one does not perspire much, if any.  The air is
dry and crisp in winter.  On the coolest days one contends more with the
ever-constant wind than with the low temperatures.  Up here a smoker smokes
less, a fast gate becomes a slow pace, and eventually you begin to notice
the view less and the solitude more.  The stars at night, unencumbered by
the flood of city lights, impress on you the feeling that you are nothing
more than a speck on the face of the universe.   This feeling is felt even
stronger by someone that has spent a long period of time under those
strings of street lights that we see in any amjor or minor city.

I sincerely enjoyed my visit with my good friend Ted, a person I have
always felt a certain kinship with. But this morning as I woke, I felt the
urge to "go a wanderin". I got up, froze my tata in the shanty facilities,
had a cup of coffee with Ted while explaining the sudden need to vacate for
further adventure, and started packing up my gear. Before I knew it I was
in my bus headed back down hwy. 64 toward Taos. My final destination for
this leg would be Winslow Arizona where I have relatives I have never met.

I stopped in Taos, picked up piece for my bike my one and only souvineer,
pointed my bus southward on Hwy 68, and proceeded to drive.  After being
settled in for yet another week I almost had to get used to the Mothership
again.  The mechanic tuned the bus to purr like she hasn't before.  The new
engine sound had to be made one once again with my being, or should I say I
had to become one with her.  All VW owners know that you feel the quality
of operation with your whole being.  Sort of a metaphysical experience.

I eagerly drove along Hwy 68 through Pilar, last weeks homeplace. As I
passed through at the blinding "speed of the sound of lonliness",
approximately 45 mph, and even though there was no one out and about that
would or could wave back, I gave Pilar a Hearty Charlie Wave, which is no
less welcoming than any marching band ever seen. I streaked right on
through listening for wierd noises to start in my bus. None were felt and
as the altitude dropped, the power increased. Life is good on the road to
Sante Fe.

I drove the Rio Grande Gorge all the way to Espaniola. I had heard bad
things about this little city, like gringo's are not safe there, and This
area is where cars are stolen.  I am not sure they are true but
nevertheless I kept driving and didn't stop till I was in the capitol city
of Sante Fe, NM.  There I pulled into one of these cheezy, sell all korean
made indian type handmade souvineers.  I am running low on money so I
wasn't going to purchase anything so I did it in the name of adventure and
letting the Mothership take a rest.  Greed fills these type places like no
other place on earth, and I was sucked in by her trap, I bought a pack of
authentic Wrigleys Juicy Fruit gum.  and on I went to find adventure and
search for the beginning of wind.

Little did I know that strong wind again was in my path, and was going to
face me head-on once again.  As soon as I emerged from the Rio Grande gorge
I was assaulted with gales, blast and gusts of 10 to 30 mile an hour wind.
The Mothershop moved on the road like a Phil Niekro knuckle ball, but never
once sputtered at the invisible syrup that moved against her.  She paced
along nicely.

I stopped just west of Albequerque at a dew-drop-in truckstop to rest my
arms and cool her jets. There was an indian lady running the store I chose
to enter. The first thing I noticed about her was her beautiful face, then
my world fell apart.  She smiled and the evidence of very bad dental care
came to light, she was missing a few bi-cuspits and a couple of
hetero-cuspits to.  Then her husband emerged from the backroom.  A small
wiry man with only three teeth on top and all of them on bottom. I kept
expecting a toothless child or two to come out, but I ended up settling for
the 6 tooth couple that stood before me. A dentist dream these two could
be. I bought a bottle of water, a new tube of toothpaste, some floss (never
can have enough), cranked The Mothership and headed on west.  I brushed my
teeth while I drove.

In Albequerque I picked up I 40 and headed due west. This honestly is one
of the nicer drives so far.  You see red rock cliffs that shine like copper
in the afternoon sun.  Now they are scattered with trailors and shacks that
house either the native americans or whoever has come here to find
independence from the hustle of city life.  You look at the cliffs and
caves and strewn rocks and think of all the westerns you have ever seen or
read and now you are here.  This is indian land, and it is as real, as it
is mysterious, as it is beautiful.  It is haunting, yet enchanting.

These days the route is polluted with indian trinket souvineer signs, in
order to see the landscape you must learn to look past these.  It is enough
to make you want to try and create a bill to outlaw them.  here on the
reservations these signs are contructed by individual tribes-people
themselves.  I spoke with one native that said this breed of indian lives
closer to the lessor spirit than the great spirit.  He stated that they
have fallen to the same spirit of greed that drove the white man to take
the native land from there ancestors.  He expressed a sadness for the lack
of pureness in the tribe of the 20th century.  I expressed my apologies and
left.  I have always felt that we did the native american wrong, and now I
am sure of it.

I drove to Gallup New Mexico which is located about twenty miles from the
Arizona State line, found a truckstop and crashed for the night.  I was
glad to be on the road again and as I reflected I realized that in the
morning I would wake to a different scenery in a differnt place further
west than where I had began my days travels.  farther into the abyss.

Thursday morning I woke about 7:00.  I slept fairly good and dreamed fairly
vividly about various episodes of either lust or adventure.  When you are
alone and 2000 miles from any woman you know intimately then I guess these
type of dreams are bound to happen and to be honest they are quite
pleasant, at least until you wake up.  I found a shower as soon as
possible.

After my shower, a cup of coffee and danish, I headed for the State of
Arizona and what lie between Gallup and Winslow.  I hit snow at the
stateline but not enough to slow me.  I drove along at 65 while truckers
past me doing 75.  Many waved as they past and were sure to swing out to
give me room because the wind was roughing me up a bit.  Some called me on
the Cb to find out what the hell some guy from Georgia was doing out here
in the high desert  in a VW bus, others just took me as a menace to making
their time and blew past me like there was no tomorrow.  All in all I still
believe the trucker is my friend.

I stopped by the petrified forest and viewed the museum.  Arizona is full
of petrified stone and there are several forest that lay on private
property.  the fee was 10.00 just to drive through, so I passed it up for
lack of funds.  I hated to do it, but that ten bucks might take me another
hundred miles or so and help me to meet 20 more plain americans.  I love
nature, but my searches truth lay in it's people, not in its stone.  I
drove on westward.

I arrived in Winslow around 12:00 noon.  I called my cousin and I am
staying at thier place tonight.  Jim and Annette raise champion bloodline
Siberian Huskies and three children.  If any of you ahve seen the movie
"Iron Will", those dogs are from this kennel.  She has dogs right now in
three commercials and two movies.  They are a very fine looking animal.

My other local kin has horses so in a few days I can go for a ride in the
desert.  I am looking forward to that.  I wander if I can sit as tall in
the saddle as John Wayne, but then can anyone even expect to do that?

Thanks for tolerating my ramblings,
Charlie Ford




"79" Transporter, dressed for the road
The Mothership

 The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and
Search for the Beginning of Wind".

www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html

"Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"