August 2006: I'm on the motorcycle, rolling westbound on I-10 outside of El Paso in western Texas in the early evening when I see a huge dark cloud build up to the south. It's so impressive I stop and take a few pictures as I put on a jacket.
The cloud keeps growing and getting darker, promising rain (rare for this part of the country). When the rain finally comes down, hard, I bail, looking desperately for a building with an overhang -- a car wash, a bank with a drive-through window, a funeral home (don't laugh, I spent an hour at one during a downpour in Eddyville, Kentucky).
In Socorro I find a darkened school administration building with a recessed entry way and nearly empty parking lot and I ride the bike right up the handicap ramp. The entry is 30 feet wide, 10 feet deep, and totally dry. Perfect!
A stack of sandbags lines one inside wall. I back the motorcycle into the opposite corner and set her up on the centerstand. Then I put my helmet and gloves on the top row of sandbags and sit down...I find it's really comfortable, because the wall is angled inward toward the windows, giving me a natural place to recline.
I relax on the bags and watch the rain pour down. I'm dry and I have a half bottle of Gatorade and a package of peanut butter-and-toast crackers. Things could not be any better...I feel almost smug. The rain continues to alternate between moderate and ferocious.
A little over an hour later, the main door opens and a janitor comes out. He glances at me, says hello in a friendly way, and turns to watch the rain.
"Hi," I say. "I'm going to give it another 20 minutes and then take off. I should be going anyway."
"Oh, no problem," he says. "Just watch out for the black widows."
"Black widows?" I say. "Where?"
"There," he says, and points in my direction. "They like to hide in the sandbags."
The cloud keeps growing and getting darker, promising rain (rare for this part of the country). When the rain finally comes down, hard, I bail, looking desperately for a building with an overhang -- a car wash, a bank with a drive-through window, a funeral home (don't laugh, I spent an hour at one during a downpour in Eddyville, Kentucky).
In Socorro I find a darkened school administration building with a recessed entry way and nearly empty parking lot and I ride the bike right up the handicap ramp. The entry is 30 feet wide, 10 feet deep, and totally dry. Perfect!
A stack of sandbags lines one inside wall. I back the motorcycle into the opposite corner and set her up on the centerstand. Then I put my helmet and gloves on the top row of sandbags and sit down...I find it's really comfortable, because the wall is angled inward toward the windows, giving me a natural place to recline.
I relax on the bags and watch the rain pour down. I'm dry and I have a half bottle of Gatorade and a package of peanut butter-and-toast crackers. Things could not be any better...I feel almost smug. The rain continues to alternate between moderate and ferocious.
A little over an hour later, the main door opens and a janitor comes out. He glances at me, says hello in a friendly way, and turns to watch the rain.
"Hi," I say. "I'm going to give it another 20 minutes and then take off. I should be going anyway."
"Oh, no problem," he says. "Just watch out for the black widows."
"Black widows?" I say. "Where?"
"There," he says, and points in my direction. "They like to hide in the sandbags."
No comments:
Post a Comment