Mother Nature is one fickle woman. One minute her mood is all cheerful and sunny, the next it’s cantankerous, almost blatantly cranky.

The wind started picking up as we wound our way southeast down Route 180 towards New Mexico. First, the wind tried to blow me into the next lane, which was a fun adventure – for a while. However, being a bike-kite gets old pretty quick. Then, it got worse. The wind blew stronger, trying to blow my helmet and jacket off. Yeah, definitely a little less than fun now. We struggled to stay upright in the ferocious onslaught of Ma Nature.

Blow… Blow… Blow the Man Down

She still wasn’t done settling the score, so the wind speed picked up even more, trying to blow my bones right out of my skin. It was some of the hardest riding I’ve ever done.

Mother Nature wasn’t just angry with us. Dean called and reported that two hours after we left, the temperature plummeted, the skies opened up and the Motorcyclist Cafe Barn and Bunkhouse was now covered with a nice, white blanket of snow.

On second though, the wind really wasn’t so bad…

And, Momma N’s fury was short lived. I would say her mood once again swung, this time to Preoccupied, because the hurricane force winds calmed to occasionally gusty gales. Still exciting, but much less dangerous to ride in.

Another great detour presented itself, this time to the New Mexican ghost town of Mogollon.

A few miles of single track, and Dark Meat DirtLover was once again rewarded with a special treat.

No cowboy greeted us at the entrance to this ghost town this time. There was no admission fee. There was nothing much at all, except for a few… residents? Some ghost town!

There were no ghosts to be found either, so after a few half-assed photos, we kept on rolling towards Wrestlemania.

Soon after, Abi reported that his rear brake went from mostly spongy to non-existant. Yeah, I know… who uses the rear brake… but still, with the computers and linked ABS in these modern marvels, we were afraid the computer would decide it was too dangerous to ride and shut the bike down.

Decision time. We pulled into a place called ‘Gramma’s’ to get some of my favorite thinking food – apple pie.

As I was getting off Rain Cloud Follows, an elderly woman, possibly Gramma herself approached, took a look at the bright red ‘North Face’ logo on my stuff bag, and exclaimed, “North Face! You boys from Alaska or sumptin?”

“No, Ma’am, but one of these days we’re gonna ride up there.”

“Well, she said with an expressive nod, “Just go and do it. Don’t wait!”

Good advice.

Fortified with some apple pie brain fuel, our decision was made. The closest Kawasaki dealership was about a hundred miles away in Las Cruces. A hundred miles in a straight line, but rear brake or no, this trip is not about straight lines. Besides, one of the most beautiful and fun roads I have ever had the pleasure of scrubbing my tires on, NM Route 152, was just too close to pass up.

152 is such a fun, awesome, broad smiler of a road that I didn’t even take a single picture. And for me, that’s really saying something.

In solidarity with my rear brakeless brother, I didn’t touch my pedal once on the entire slalom course. Fun!

The sun did what it always does at this time of day, perfectly timed with our second intersection with a straight line interstate highway.

Mr. Erdon would be proud.

Las Cruces is one of those places, but then again, I guess every place is really one of ‘those places.’ We checked into a nondescript hotel near Las Cruces Motorsports, with a doctor’s appointment for Snowball at 10 the next morning.

Scanning the internet, we found this information on the possible cause of Snowball’s rear brake failure:

Kawasaki is recalling 2008 Concours 14 motorcycles due to a problem with the rear brakes. Road debris may get trapped between the rear brake pedal and the rear master cylinder actuating arm, preventing the pedal from fully releasing. This could cause the rear brake to overheat and may lead to rear brake lock-up or failure.

Satisfied that some gravel somewhere mucked up the stoppers of his bike, we set out to find something fun to do in Las Cruces. Margarita toasts, a little variation from the ever present Best Day Ever theme, went down far too smoothly.

By 11 AM, Richard at Las Cruces Motorsports had Snowball back in rolling condition.

And with two days (and one ride report) remaining until the dreaded Sunday crew call for the dreaded Wrestlemania setup, we were ready to roll the rest of the way to Houston.

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Author: frenchy