We set off in the dark heading south-west back down towards Albuquerque on I25 avoiding the route highlighted to us as having construction work. then turned right on to US 560 which turned us back north-west, a direct road almost to Farmington.

We cruised along watching as the landscape gradually faded up as the sun rose in the east. The blackness melting into beige and the sky changing from black to blue. The road was in now familiar but still amazing scenery. Multicolourd striped rocky hills. Grey tops with sandy substructures which had eroded away to leave grey tabletops which protruded over the softer stone underneath. The sun continued to rise bringing heat as well as light making me squint and get sleepy again.

Russ was driving fast only slowing when his radar detector chipped a warning of some invisible eye waiting for prey. We passed through Zia and Jemez reservations and it struck me that they government must have searched hard to find such a barren waste to "donate" to the original owners of these lands. Russ explained about the reservations having some sort of exemption from state laws on gambling and hence the way an oasis of neon would suddenly appear in the middle of the desolation. We ran through a wide gorge with hills on either side, winding through them following the route of a long gone river. Small signs beside dry scars in the land proclaimed the name of a creek. Not today it wasn't!

Some four hours later we turned west at Bloomfield on US 64 and ran on a road which looked down on to a broad valley then cliffs and a river running slowly along the flat bottom. We slipped into Farmington and located Desert Sports the HD dealer.

The poorly twin-cam was again inspected on the trailer and again the diagnoses reached in sparrows-fart time. 20 minutes later the bike was on the ramp with various bits hanging off and cluttered around the base. The initial prediction was correct and the search for parts began. The cam bearings proved easy but the mush of metal which had flowed round the engine pretending to be oil had caused other parts to be damaged.

The wrench "Sam" called me over along with Mike the service manager. They explained that they could call HD and see if they would authorise free repair but that the answer was not always gained quickly, could be a few hours or more. With 12 other bikes headed my way and a schedule to keep I elected to pay myself and then try and sort it out back in the UK.

" Do you want me to just get your bike on the road or do you want it fixed like it was mine"? , asked Sam. He went on to say some parts were borderline on damage and "might" be OK if I wanted to save money. I chose to pretend it was his bike and any part that was damaged and they had in stock was replaced on his recommendation. I did not know at that time I was dealing with a psychic as well as a wrench!

Russ and I passed away the hours, browsing the shop; having lunch, browsing the shop again and watching prairie dogs play in the adjacent waste ground. Two other breakdowns arrived on trailers and I was pleased that we had had as lot reserved ahead. We chatted to some locals and any of the HD owners passing on tours.

About mid afternoon Russ got a call saying Ted had a flat so he set off with the trailer again to collect him. Late in the afternoon the gang arrived and took over the car park for some on the road oil changes. Ted booked his bike in to have the flat repaired next morning and while the ladies cleared the shop of stock I collected my bike which was now well again. A quick blast around the block confirmed all was well although it felt sluggish. I eventually realised we were at around 6000 ft altitude and maybe this was the cause.