It rained all day, but it was exactly like Seattle rain: chilly but not cold, and usually pretty gentle. The forecast had been calling for thunderstorms, but there was no trace of thunder or lightning. I’d been so nervous about those storms that I’d considered spending another day in Santa Fe, but the motel had no vacancies, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of backtracking. So I gritted my teeth and headed out a half-hour before what would have been sunrise, if there’d been any chance of seeing the sun.
I keep my phone mounted on my handlebars, but because it was so wet out, I had it wrapped in a plastic grocery bag to keep water out of the charging port. As a result, I didn’t stop for pictures all day, except once, when I had to go find a tree (you know why). While I was there, I found another old steel can, this one with a readable Pepsi label!
I’ve already mentioned that I’m not going to continue past Tucumcari. But there’s another reason I haven’t talked about yet.
Decades ago, I did something that abruptly ended a very important friendship. It has hung over me ever since as the single biggest regret of my life. Countless times over the years, I’ve tried to find this person and reach out, with no luck at all.
Then, a couple of days ago, on a long straight stretch of Route 66, I searched for him one more time. And this time, something useful finally came up: the full name of his girlfriend. I messaged her, she passed my message along to him, and last night the two of us spent an hour on the phone. He lives in Albuquerque, and we’re going to get together before I head home.
I can hardly describe the relief of finally setting down something I’ve carried for so long. Riding my bicycle is fun. This is something else entirely.
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