Stage 3: Chinle – Buckhorn – Truth or Consequences – Cloudcroft – Odessa – Junction – Uvalde – Laredo: Diesel and Dust

After the masses of highlights in the first days, it gets calmer but not boring for the rest of the trip. I really enjoy that now, as it was nearly too much in the first days. Still choosing my way with the help of recommended motorcycle routes, I get closer and closer to the destination of this trip. All works according a not written plan… and then there was a call from home…

Motorcycle trips are exhausting enough to get hungry although you’re “just” sitting the whole time. So, I eat a regional specialty in front of an old saloon in the middle of nowhere when I suddenly receive the message if I have time for a call. …sure… I just have to find a spot with good coverage for a call! The call is far longer than expected but at the end a big (positive) surprise is perfect! …more to come…

The day is already perfect, so what to expect even more? What about caves that were inhabited 700 years ago? Sounds good…let’s go there: Gila Cliff Dwellings

I’m in an area where many native people live. The evening before I got invited by a Native to an event where only Natives come and celebrate their culture. Unfortunately it was a few days in the future and didn’t fit to my travel plans at all, so I had to reject. God, I was sad! How often will I have the opportunity to join such an event? Maybe never again. Who knows? At least with visiting these caves it brings me a little closer to the culture of the local Natives … well, no… not really. Different era, different tribe, different culture. Still interesting.

A ranger explains everything about the different rooms, the structure of the build walls and possible reasons why the former residents suddenly left after 30 years. I’m not a fan of tourist masses, so I listen from the distance and explore the big caves on my own.


I step up a new ladder and look around. The ranger gives me the hint to turn to my right as there’s an old graffiti. Over the centuries a little weak red color shows a lizard…probably part of an old menu of a pre-historic fast-food restaurant.

Back to my motorcycle and on the road again. Next stop is the town “Truth or Consequences”, named after the former US radio-show from the 1950s (according the plate shown on the second picture).


It’s only a short way through the mountains to the set target of the day. There’s only an issue… it goes through an area named “White Sands Missile Range”. It sounds like fun, it is probably fun…but probably not for me. The map doesn’t say that it’s a restricted area but I want to be sure. At the gas station a local confirms that it’s a military zone which is impassable. A few stories of his life later I’m back on the road driving around the mountain range. The detour takes additional two hours which means that I arrive in the freezing cold night. An old western saloon is the place of choice to warm up and get something to eat. But it happens again: Nothing to eat as the kitchen is already closed. In a way it’s really funny that it happened to me so far only in the US to have to go to bed without anything to eat. Neither in Central Asia nor in Eastern Europe or any other place when I travelled around the world five years ago, it happened to me that I didn’t get anything to eat in a city during “common” business hours but on this one-week stage it happened to me already three times. At least the anticipation for the breakfast is immense. …and again: Nothing available as it is Thanksgiving and all coffee-shops are closed on this morning in this city. Breakfast? Overrated. Let’s get something special instead: “Sitting Bull Falls”. They’re not really big but quite lovely.

At the parking I meet two photographers and we talk about our journeys, our adventures and share recommendations. We realize that we talked for hours now and that the sun will set soon. Unfortunately I have to make some more miles as there’s still a long way waiting for me. The city Odessa, TX will be my place to stay over the night. As the air is filled with the special odor of oil, I skip the plan of setting up my tent. Before I also have to skip the plan to get something to eat at all on Thanksgiving I stop at the next best restaurant and line up in the long waiting queue. A local couple looks inquisitively to me wearing the dusty suit full of desert sand. After a few moments a very nice conversation starts. It ends with an invitation to a Thanksgiving meal. I’m overwhelmed and I insist that this is nothing what I could accept…but it’s important to both of them. So, I’m invited by strangers in a foreign country to a foreign holiday. Fascinating.

The next day, the Black Friday, it seems that I’m nearly the only one on the streets. An old spanish fortress is a welcomed distraction…and the only on that day.

It’s a day to gather miles. Straight roads. Nearly no bends. On the left-hand side of the road: Oil pumps. On the right-hand side of the road: Oil pumps. In the air: The smell of oil. Hard to find: Gas stations. After hours of repeating sceneries, I nearly accepted to be caught in an endless loop but suddenly the time-travel took place: The oil-pumps were replaced by old farmer houses with decorative wind wheels on the side.

It’s either a time travel or a good sign that I reached Hill Country. …or both. The boring scenery is replaced by forests, farm houses, meadows and some small towns. The roads are fun to drive. This also attracts other motor bikers. And an old rule says: Where you see many motor bikers, expect the police close by. This is also true here. I never felt that safe the last days as here. Lucky me they’re focused on the loud cruisers only on that day.

In a small town I see the first Christmas market of the season. I only missed the mulled wine…and the snow.


On the last day of the stage, I drive to Laredo, TX, get a storage unit and leave the Beast secured until I kiss her awake again. I leave the camping gear with her but pack the winter clothes as I hopefully won’t need them in the upcoming trip through Central America.

With the fading sun at the small airport, the third stage of this trip also fades. I will never forget the impressive Nationalparks of it. I’m already curious what I will experience at the fourth stage on my way down to the end of the roads.

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