Back on US 84 and as we headed north-west the surroundings became drier, dustier with beige colours getting more common through the green. It was around here that I noticed the "engine" light in my TC88 was on and on seeing this started to listen to my engine which I discovered was misfiring a bit. I pulled over and got the earplugs out. Various squeals rattles and scraping noises told me this was a sick engine. The team moved into action. It was slicker than a slick thing with extra slick stuff on it. From out of the cab of the truck was pulled a large black bag looking like an oversize sports bag. Its contents were removed and in minutes became a trailer with a wide-glide strapped to it. Russ's "Trailer in bag" was to prove it's worth at least once. (See www.trailerinabag.com)

So Russ and I set off in the truck leaving the bikes behind while the smokers smoked and wimps rubbed their numb arses before setting off again. The air condition cab of the truck was a nice change form the heat but I'd have preferred to be in the wind. The road was straight for miles and the true scale of the countryside became apparent when Russ mentioned he saw the bike lights behind us. I turned to get some photos but to no avail, sitting at about 65 mph it must have taken a good 30 minutes before the bikes caught up with us even though visible the whole time, wonderful! They passed us and Russ dropped into "chase" mode. At the next fuel stop it was clear Ron, s mind had been in overdrive and as the rest of the crew fuelled up he was on the phone with a HOG manual in one hand. The nearest dealer in Roswell was closed on Mondays with no emergency contact number. Santa Fe said they had only one technician and they were booked up. Third attempt was Chic's in Albuquerque who claimed to have 14 technicians and were happy to have a look. So while the rest of the gang headed to Roswell to show the aliens what "weird" really was Russ and I took the road to "Albacoykee" a town name that was said at least 100 times bugs bunny style over the next few hours.

Turns out that when the bikes arrived in Roswell the owner of the HD dealer spotted them and after a chat opened up the shop for them. By this time the injured bike was well away. The scenery in New Mexico became more and more awesome as we went on. The flat dry landscape becoming more rocky and contoured with flat-topped hills rising above. The colours of the rocks change and are usually in broad stripes of different colours with the different layers of rock. Beiges, greys and reds abound in different amounts spotted with pimple of green where plants have managed to get a foothold. Maybe not complete desert but good enough for me. The sun blazed down and I found riding in the truck made me more sleepy than the bike. Not being used to my rhetorical wittering felt obliged to try and find answers to my incessant "questions" " I wonder what that’s for?" " Why is that there"? " Who would live there"? Eventually he gave and let me bleat away leaving the mysteries of New Mexico unanswered.

We arrived at Chic's and parked up at the service area and were greeted by a tall, slim Indian looking guy (Tony?) His broad smile and welcoming manner a pleasant change from some dealerships who may not even notice a customer coming through the door. He enquired where I was from and sought some details on our trip as we headed for the bike still on the trailer, "start her up" he said. In exactly half a second he switched the bike off……"cam bearings" came his response. After getting a second technician to confirm his diagnosis he started looking for parts but unfortunately didn't have them. He asked our route and Farmington was the next place with a dealer other than Santa Fe. One phone call later it was confirmed that they should have the parts, depending on collateral damage and I was booked in for first thing in the morning.

Several T-shirts and quarts of oil later we left Chic's only after having some detours recommended by a young lady. She looked at the route the bikes were to take and advised of construction work and alternatives to avoid them. A very well set up dealer from my experience and each and every one of the staff was pleasant, knowledgeable, welcoming and helpful. A lesson on how dealerships should be run!

Russ and I continued on to Santa Fe through some gorgeous country, more hills more gouges in the earth more rocks. En route we heard a trucker on the CB slating us for hauling the bike instead of riding it, Russ did try to explain "it was broke", but this was beyond the truckers limited comprehension. The tune " Do you know the way to San Jose" ran constantly in my head with San Jose replaced by Santa Fe and "Albacoykie" said a hundred times more. I was impressed by Santa Fe itself a small town built on undulating ground with Spanish style house dotted around in irregular fashion, red roofs looking like inflamed pimples on a sandy face. The town seemed not to be in a "grid" fashion as most of tee other towns recently seen and seemed to have just happened, rather than having been planned.