Visiting The Sun City

    (Editor’s Note—My apologies to the regular and sometimes readers of my blog for my negligence in posting the past few weeks. Other than laziness and the reluctance to write about anything other than my rides, there are no excuses being offered.)

    Several of my high school classmates, El Paso High School Class of 1965, have been laying the early foundation for having a reunion next year. So far, there have been two meetings of a small group of about a dozen members, and I have been fortunate enough to attend both meetings.

    Although the Sun City, as it was frequently referred to in my youth, is 360-plus miles from Lubbock, I have attended both meetings, traveling the highways astride the Green Machine.

    When the Harley Honey and I attended the first meeting in May we traveled through Cloudcroft, N.M., and over the mountains into El Paso and Las Cruces.

    Thursday morning as I left by myself I fully intended to retrace those steps. However, as I approached Brownfield (the small farming community where I was going to have to turn to the west) I made the decision to travel the regular Carlsbad route with a couple of side trips.

    The weather, except for being a little windy until I reached Seminole, was virtually perfect and the ride was uneventful. After taking some pictures of the Green Machine at the Guadalupe Pass, I headed down the mountain (the highest point in Texas) toward the Chihuahuan Desert. This is a desolate region of Texas with only a few outposts (Salt Flats and the now deserted Cornudas) dotting the map between White’s City, N.M., and El Paso.

    Soon after passing Salt Flats, there was a sign pointing to Sierra Blanca, a small West Texas town located 45 miles south on FM 1111 and Interstate 10. Since I was in no hurry to get to El Paso, I turned south on 1111 and began a roller-coaster ride on a very well-maintained road. Some of the dips where so steep and short that there were warning signs indicating that drivers should slow to 15 mph. On a motorcycle, though, the dips were no problem at the regular highway speed, other than to make one’s stomach jump up a little bit.

    I got gas in Sierra Blanca and jumped on the interstate where I saw that the speed limit was 80 mph! That’s not too fast for the motorcycle, but the state allows big trucks to travel at only 70 mph. After moving back and forth among the trucks, I quickly decided that trucks and cars should be allowed to go the same speed for safety’s sake.

    Zooming into El Paso, I decided to stop off at Barnett’s Harley-Davidson, one of several dealers that proclaim they are the “world’s largest Harley dealership.” Because of the exits on the interstate and the heavy traffic on the access roads, the dealership is extremely difficult to get to, even though it is located on the access road. Anyway, after a few harrowing moments, I pulled into the store and bought a couple of souvenirs before continuing on to my destination on the other side of the Franklin Mountains that split El Paso into two sections.

    After taking a shower, my buddy and I jumped into his car and ran a few errands before we went to the meeting at the El Paso Historical Society on Yandell Avenue in downtown El Paso. This beautiful home, knows locally as the “Burges House,” was built by my friend’s great-grandfather and was the lifelong home of his grandmother. When she passed away in the late 1980s, the family donated the home to the society. It’s a beautiful and well-preserved home that should be seen by visitors.

    The next day, after having a couple of breakfast burritos, I was back on the road at 10 a.m., CDT, and heading toward Lubbock. This time there would be no side trips.

    I jumped on I-10 East and headed to the outskirts of El Paso before turning north to eventually connect with the Carlsbad Highway in far East El Paso.

    The weather, all the way home, was almost of perfect. Clouds kept the temperature in the high 70s and low 80s. Although the streets and parking lots in Hobbs looked as if a monsoon had hit moments before I go there, I only rode through a very brief and light shower.

    The trip went so well, I pulled into the driveway and into the garage at 4:15 p.m.–and I never went more than 5 mph over the speed limit!