Day 10 – Santa Fe, New Mexico to Gallup, New Mexico (3 July)

Some days exceed every expectation. Today was one of them.

The routine was becoming second nature. Breakfast at 7:00, bags to the support van by 7:45 and engines fired just after 8:00. The temperature was a perfect 22°C as we rolled out of Santa Fe into another day on Route 66.

397 km (247 miles), 2,709 km (1,682 miles) so far

Our first stop was the tiny town of Madrid. It's spelled Madrid but pronounced Mad-rid, and movie fans will recognise it immediately. This was the location used for the climactic showdown in Wild Hogs, where the four unlikely bikers took on the Del Fuegos outside Maggie's Diner.

Pulling into Maggie's brought huge smiles all round. The famous diner wasn't really a diner at all—it was built on an empty lot specifically for the film and now serves as a gift shop packed with Route 66 memorabilia. Naturally, a few T-shirts found new homes.

Steve pointed us towards a nearby café for coffee. It was a definite improvement on the hotel brew, although by this stage of the trip I'd developed a serious craving for a proper flat white.

Leaving Madrid, the road twisted its way through a spectacular canyon. Whatever the official geographical definition, "canyon" simply sounds better than "valley", and these sweeping bends were some of the most enjoyable riding we'd experienced so far.

Steve had warned us we'd be bypassing Albuquerque on the interstate, and that's where I encountered one of motorcycling's less glamorous moments. Despite applying sunscreen generously that morning, the heat and wind combined to wash it straight into my eyes. Riding at 70 mph with streaming eyes is far from ideal. Lifting the visor and wiping my face with a gloved hand provided some relief, but then came the inevitable runny nose. Glamorous it wasn't.

Which raises an obvious question.

Why choose a motorcycle when a car would be more comfortable?

The answer is simple.

Adventure.

Every morning, pressing the starter button and flicking the side stand up feels like the beginning of something special. That little spark of excitement never disappears. Every day brings something unexpected, whether it's breathtaking scenery, a quirky roadside stop or simply the joy of the ride itself.

Ewan McGregor summed it up perfectly during Long Way Round. If you've never understood why people ride motorcycles, it's worth finding his explanation. He captures the feeling far better than I ever could.

Our next stop was fuel, another comfort break and the chance to put on the cooling vest I'd bought a few days earlier. With temperatures now nudging 30°C, it was proving to be one of the best purchases of the trip.

The scenery continued to improve as we rode deeper into Navajo country.

Earlier in the morning we'd noticed enormous freight trains running alongside the highway, but nothing prepared us for what happened at the railway crossing beside the Dancing Eagle Casino.

The barriers came down just as we arrived.

And then the train kept coming.

And coming.

It took almost five minutes to pass. Six locomotives hauled around 370 freight cars stretching an estimated 6.9 kilometres (4.3 miles). People climbed off their bikes, removed helmets and jackets and simply stood watching. It was mesmerising. The sheer scale of American freight rail is difficult to comprehend until you're waiting for one to pass.

Lunch was at the casino diner before we headed back onto the road.

Not long afterwards Steve told us to watch for a distinctive butte with pueblo homes perched on top. I'd reached the grand old age of 57 before discovering what a butte actually is—an isolated hill with steep sides and a flat top. I'd only ever encountered the word in a Colter Wall song.

As we approached, the ancient pueblo appeared high above us.

The settlement has been continuously occupied for over a thousand years.

Moments later the road began climbing in a series of sweeping bends up the cliff face to the plateau above. At the top we pulled into the Acoma Sky City Viewpoint.

Nothing prepared us for what lay before us.

The view was simply overwhelming.

Photographs don't even begin to capture the scale, colour and silence of the landscape. Looking out across the mesas and desert towards Sky City, emotion caught me completely by surprise. My eyes welled up.

It wasn't just me.

Everyone stood quietly taking it all in. Sometimes a place is so beautiful it bypasses words altogether.

Eventually we climbed back onto the bikes and continued west, still trying to absorb what we'd just experienced.

Our next stop was a trading post specialising in locally made Native American jewellery and crafts. It was fascinating wandering through the displays and learning a little about the artistry and traditions of the region.

Another memorable stop followed at the Continental Divide, where a simple sign marks one of North America's great geographical boundaries. Rain falling on one side eventually reaches the Atlantic Ocean; rain falling on the other flows towards the Pacific. Naturally, there was another gift shop.

From there it was a final half-hour ride into Gallup, arriving shortly after 5:00 pm.

As always, Chantelle had a chilly bin full of ice-cold drinks waiting beside the support van—a gesture that became increasingly appreciated as the days grew hotter. During Steve's evening briefing the hotel staff politely informed us that drinks weren't permitted in the lobby, so we simply moved outside and carried on.

Once checked in, there was only one sensible thing to do.

Swimming pool.

Several of us found exactly the same idea, and after a day riding through desert country, the cool water was glorious.

Dinner followed in the hotel restaurant before a short wander across to Walmart. American Walmarts are attractions in their own right, and it's surprisingly easy to lose half an hour just wandering the aisles. Eventually I headed back to the hotel to write today's journal while everyone else continued browsing.

Today had everything.

Movie nostalgia in Madrid.

Magnificent roads.

Record-breaking freight trains.

Ancient Native American history.

The Continental Divide.

And one of the most spectacular viewpoints I've ever experienced.

Just when I thought this trip couldn't possibly get any better…

…it did.