Well, we finally made it. 1,000 miles in 20 hours.

It doesn't seem like much, and I have actually driven a car much further in the same amount of time, but on a motorcyle this is quite an ordeal. Taking the route we did, it was primarily interstate and hitting the big cities. I now officially hate Kansas City and Oklahoma City with a passion. The trip started with a 70 mile or so romp along Highway 34 which is a 2-lane decent road and no major issues. The weather was cool but not unpleasant, and we managed with just the jackets and chaps over tshirts and jeans. We did see one large doe which was casually walking across the highway, heard our bikes, looked our way with apparent disdain, and then slowly proceeded to mosey on over to the other side of the roadway. Could have been a beautiful sight if one could ignore the risk she posed to oncoming traffic. Unfortunately, I'm not like that, so the deer got an earful of some of my best cursing. We continued on down Interstate I-35 at a pretty good clip, which would have made a real quick trip if I hadn't pulled over ever chance I got to smoke a cigarette. As unaccustomed to long riding as my derrier was to prolonged riding, the frequent breaks helped. We hit KC around lunch time, and I now know how a cow feels in a stampede. The traffic was fast-paced and the lane markers were apparently just suggestions for the locals. Took the 435 around KC, which I was pretty familiar with, so the gps was more of just a comfort factor (which is fortunate since it was a small screen and hard to read). The ride from KC went thru Emporia, along the tollroad to Wichita, and then south to the Oklahoma border where we paid the toll. Big Hint: do not carry your money in your front jeans pockets while wearing chaps, you can't get to it without enough contortions to challenge a belly dancer. The trip continued until Oklahoma City where we took the Kilpatrick tollroad bypass. What a pain in the ass. The entry onto the tollway is indistinguishable from getting on any other highway, but a few miles down the road you are required to exit and pay a toll and then get back into traffic. Ok, not a big deal. What no one tells you is that a few miles further, you have to do it again. And this time there is no ticket taker, just a pair of machines: a bill changer and a drop chute with a big sign saying exact change only. Also not a really big deal, except when the bill changer doesn't work as happened with us. After an eternity of balancing on the bike and trying to unsuccessfully feed a dollar bill into the broken machine, we just drove past the gate and listened to the alarm. We pulled over to a parking area nearby and waited for the boys in blue to arrive. They never did, but a car that had watched us struggle with 21st century kindly stopped and gave us change which we walked over to the chute and disgustedly threw into the chute. We finished our cigarettes, remounted the bikes and figured if the Oklahoma toll authority wanted to talk to us any further they would send a nice little summons which we will deal with later. the rest of the trip was mostly routine: ride, stop for gas, ride, stop for a cigarette, ride some more, and repeat. On through Texas and eventually into New Mexico. We were doing well on time, but our stamina was taking a hit. By the time we reached Tucumcari, we were both getting pretty fatigued. Dealing with the frequent one-lane road construction was not helping the problem and we decided that as soon as we hit 1,000 miles we were going to get a motel room. After considerable mathmatical calculations and repeated subtractions of starting mileage from current mileage, we determined that Santa Rosa was the place to call it a day. Got into the room around 5 am or so, and promptly fell asleep.