Hey! From Elkhart,  Kansas.

The ride from Alva, Oklahoma to Elkhart was fine. All is well. But I have about had enough of gravel roads. Have I talked about those yet?

See that gravel road running clear into the distance. Yeah, I rode that and a bunch more like it today. I rode over 100 miles on gravel roads today. All kinds of gravel roads. Roads that were almost as smooth as pavement with just the tiniest rocks scattered about. I could go 45 mph on those. But on other gravel roads, you always have to look way ahead to tell where the last truck tires beat a little path that you can ride in. And sometimes it is hard to tell by color which is the beaten path and which is the pile of gravel waiting to trip you up. You can never look away. There is no enjoying the scenery on a gravel road. Disaster waits for you to make one little slip and hit that pile of loose gravel.

But then I would find a section that turned to sand. Sand is THE WORST. If the bike squirrels around when riding on a bed of marbles, like in Mississippi, it goes crazy on sand. I tried everything. Somewhere I heard that you power through it. So I slowed before, and gave it the gas going through. That actually helps, unless you are going downhill or are already going too fast and you want to slow down. You can't slow down! That's mayhem. I turned one corner and found this section that had sand six inches deep.

See the squirrel-ly tracks coming at you on the right side of that picture. You can see where I got ever so slightly off the beaten path and tried to recover, but then sand kept piling up in front of my front wheel making me zig left and zag right. See it there? I almost busted it on that one. The only saving grace of sand is that it serves as a wonderful brake. That's what they put in those runaway truck ramps in the mountains because it will stop you dead in your tracks. Fortunately for me, that's what happened. I barely managed to save it and put my feet down. Sand! Yuk!

There were lots of cattle guards today. And lots of cattle. The cattle guards meant that I was riding in some farmer's pasture WITH his cows. That's why there were signs like this:

I came to a cattle guard with three cows in the middle of the road in front of it. I beeped my tiny little horn a few times while approaching so they would not be surprised by the motorcycle, but they were surprised anyway. And afraid. Of little ole' me. I guess that is better than charging me, which I hear sometimes happens. Not to worry if that happens. My brother-in-law Ralph gave me a can of wasp and hornet spray for protection. He says it'll stop anything - a bear, a cow, a dog, but especially a person! Don't bother me. I'm CARRYING!

One calf in the group was really panicked and kept dancing one way then another. Then he found himself trapped in a fence corner with barbed wire. He ran into it several times in a panic. I shut my motor off to try to get him to calm down, but he must have known I was CARRYING, because he was still panicked. There were other ways around. The other cows went that way, but finally he dove between the barbed wires and made it to the other side. 

Cdabike? That's a BIG grain bin.

When I arrived in Elkhart, I discovered a car wash next to the El Rancho Motel where I am staying. How convenient because the bike and me were covered with dust and dirt and sand. So after I checked in, I went next door for a good powerwash.

When I was all done, I hit the starter and the motor turned, but did not start. Uh Oh. 

You should know that I am not riding this trek without some measure of fear. Especially fear of a break-down in the middle of nowhere. But I am working hard at overcoming my fears. That is part of what this trip (and others I have taken) is about. You just can't let fear keep you from doing things, or you will never do anything. Fear is something to be overcome. But there is always that nagging feeling in my gut about a breakdown. It never goes completely away. That's the reason I have the simplest bike made - an old fashioned bike without special electronics and whiz-bangs and gizmos that only the biggest motorcycle shops would be able to work on. This one even has a carburetor! It's one cylinder of simplicity. Even I can set the valves, change the oil, change the spark plug, and adjust the carburetor. But my mechanical knowledge is limited, and I worry about what I don't know.

And I did have a breakdown in Fayetteville, Tennessee. It died and would not and did not start. I was just lucky that someone came by in five minutes with a trailer and could haul me and the bike to the motel I had reserved only six miles away. And I quickly found help in town to examine the bike, but without success. Turns out, I had let the bike get low on oil and had blown a piston. I had to cry Uncle that time, and called Sarah to bring the pick-up truck and haul me and the bike back home. It took a few weeks for that repair. So I do have some experience being stopped dead in my tracks. And that haunts me.

But I think, I THINK, everything on the bike is running fine. And I check the oil every day now. It does use some.

So it wouldn't start again. But it had to be water. It was running fine when I got to the car wash, but not after. I pushed the bike next door to the motel and waited. Every 15 minutes or so I would go out and try it again. Nothing. Since tomorrow is Sunday, I knew I would have to wait an extra day in Elkhart to get a mechanic on Monday to help me. It had to start.

Only after an hour and a half did it fire back up, and I was back in business! No problems, mate. I'll be on the road again tomorrow.

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(Oh, and just so you know, I do have a gps with an SOS button on it. If I am in nowhere land and have trouble, I can hit that button and the signal goes to a satellite, and search and rescue comes to find me. I even paid the insurance to get $50,000 of search and rescue expenses covered. Plus if I am in civilization I have AAA. If all else fails, I'll call Sarah again and wait for the truck! Not to worry; I'm covered!)