Tuesday, June 18, 2002

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It is 8:00 am MDT and the temperature is already passing the 87 degree mark.  There is nothing but straight road ahead as far as the eye can see.  The passing of a car (Border Patrol) every so often is about all of the traffic that we see.

The Mexican border is just to our right.  Our world is comprised of straight ribbons of road, wire fences, curious cattle, road runners, a car every once in a while.

Climbing a hill, as we arrive at the crest we notice that we are at the Continental Divide at over 4,000 feet of elevation.  Joe yells out, "It's all downhill from here."  Animal, already bored, comments,  "Hey John, your conversational skills stink, so how about letting Big Bubba over there on that two-wheeler have a go at riding this little ole tricycle."

Joe raises his right hand with a gesture of salute.  Animal just snickers.  "What a goof," he mutters.  "Doesn't this guy know that his gears and brakes are on the right hand side and that we are out of control.  This is worse than John!" 

"Okay, okay.  I got it Animal.  Now just enjoy the ride."

As the sun sinks slowly in the west , Joe continues to pedal eastward.  With temperatures passing the 111 degree mark we call it a day.  Tomorrow, on to the neighbors and El Paso, Texas.

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