gypsyjudge.com

“On the road again”
I’m working on my nickname again – gypsyjudge.
My mother, Nita Melvin, would have been 100 years old in July of this year. She was a complex, loving person, and full of curiosity. She loved to travel but stayed where she “belonged” — at home with family. She had a world map as a mural on their bedroom wall and used different colored straight pens to mark where various family and friends traveled. Whenever someone was leaving, she would say, “Take my good-looking eyes with you, and come back to tell me all about it.”
So in her honor, I hope to show you some of my travels, through her “good-looking eyes.”
This week I flew from Florida to Tucson to help a friend who is to have eye surgery and won’t be able to drive for a while. The weather here is slightly different than that in Florida – I exchanged soggy and cold for a humidity (8 to 9%) that was a real shocker to my sinuses. The temps in Tucson are in the high 80’s during the day & low 40’s at night.
We visited the Saguaro National Park – the Saguaro are the cacti of cowboy movies. They grow very, very slowly – they don’t begin to grow arms their first 75 to 100 years; they can grow 80 feet tall and live 150 years.
Yesterday we took the car down to Patagonia, AZ. a small town about 60 miles south of Tucson and 20 miles north of the Mexican border. We had burritos for breakfast – of course – with salsa that would take the hair off your tongue. We decided to take “the road less traveled” back to Tucson but chickened out when the pavement ended and the dirt road began to fork, repeatedly. We found a Border Patrol – not hard to do – and he reassured us that the roads were going to ultimately return us to civilization. So we rode 40+ miles on rough, dirt roads – through patches of small oak trees, over dry gullies, and up to Canelo Pass, a high grassland in cowboy country where the cattle have the right-of-way. We made it back to pavement just before the sun went down; then it was only an hour back to Tucson.
Part of this trip will include an excursion to Santa Fe.  We’ll probably find some more back roads along the way.  Tuesday, Dec 2, I will work with the Solace Crises Center, a child advocacy center, as they roll-out their big fund raiser, BuY the Book; I’ll donate 25% of the sales of my book, Public Secrets and Justice, to Solace. On Wednesday, I do a training session with a group of about 30 professionals from a variety of agencies who work with child abuse.
You can reasonably expect some “operator errors” as I begin, again, to learn the technology required for this blog site.  I had a hard time before with pictures – bear with me as I work through it again.

Riding the bike out of Santa Fe, heading north to Ghost Ranch Conference Center, I left cell phone and internet service behind.  I was a little concerned about the one+mile dirt/gravel road into Ghost Ranch, but it was fine – not an issue on the VStrom but I’m glad I wasn’t on my ’04 Yamaha FJR.  The gravel was a bit loose, and the tires squirted here and there, but it was all OK.  I set up my tent in the campground and walked around, finding old friends also there for the week’s conference.  My first night on the ground wasn’t especially comfortable; the high-tech sleeping pad was first too hard so I let air out.  Too much air, of course, so I still wasn’t comfortable.  And then I “discovered” the NM no-see-um’s.  Somewhat in size like the hot gnats in Florida  but they pack something that feels like rattle snake venom, to which I am amazingly sensitive.  I woke up with 8 whelps the size of golf balls – red, itchy, hot golf balls.  Being ever-so-slightly stubborn, I resisted the temptation to move up on the Mesa to the full accommodation housing.  The second night, I took a virtual bath in Deep Woods Off and adjusted the sleeping pad and slept well.  The red cliffs of northern New Mexico shed a pink dust of cake-flour consistency that seeps through anything and covers everything.  The tightly zipped tent was no match, and all that I brought was soon covered in pale pink grit. I slept in the tent 4 nights, then bolted on the bike down to Albuquerque on Thurs morning to catch a plane to Indianapolis.  After serial flight delays, I finally arrived at the 5 star motel in Indiana after midnight.  Interesting contrast to the days preceding – I was there as the plenary speaker at the Indiana Juvenile Judges Conference and was to make a 90 minute presentation to 150 Judges.  My room was with the other judges – on one of two floors with access restricted by card key.  The room had all of the upscale amenities, including a bath robe hanging in the closet.  There were no bugs or red clay.  The clothing contrast also made me smile.  I had to look professional for this Conference, rather than look like a biker chick sleeping on the ground with pink dust and biting bugs, but there’s not much hangar space on my bike.  So I’d rolled up my good clothes, stuffed them in the shoe box with my dress shoes, and shipped them to myself at Ghost Ranch.  There I packed them in the saddle bags for the trip to Indiana.  At the hotel, I shook them out and was pleased with the result.  However, I was NOT pleased to find I’d left my hairbrush in the tent.  The only brush I had was my toothbrush.  After grumbling a bit, I called the front desk and the kind lady brought me up a black comb in a plastic sleeve – a comb slightly thicker than a piece of paper and light-years ahead of my toothbrush in hairstyling potential.  Friday morning, I washed my hair, blew it dry, and beat it into submission with the black comb.  With dress clothes and makeup, I completed my Superman-in-the-phone booth transition, and stepped off the elevator looking somewhat judicial.

I felt the talk went well.  A group of 150 judges can be expected to be stoic and academic;  I appreciate their willingness to engage in open discussions of issues unique to the judiciary working in juvenile,  such as the emotional impact on the Judge of hearing traumatic problems as part of a routine workday, and the frustrations of not being able to adequately address various issues of humanity. I hope I left them with ideas to ponder.

I finished at noon on Friday in Indianapolis and flew back to Albuquerque where I’d left my bike and helmet.  Saturday morning I left the motel early and arrived back at Ghost Ranch in time for the 8:30 a.m. program.  I was only in Indianapolis for 15 hours – amazing what modern-day travel allows you to do.

I reluctantly left Ghost Ranch on Sunday – it’s such an amazing place.  I continue to be technologically challenged so I’ll only post pictures at www.facebook.com/Public Secrets and Justice.

Day 4 – Santa Fe, NM
This has been a good trip – reminds me of how much I enjoy being on the bike. The terrain changed quickly – in Florida, Alabama, and Mississippi I rode through heavily wooded, flat lands wrapped in rivers and lakes; in Louisiana there are flat, fertile delta lands mushy with water. Everything is green, and you can’t see a half a mile ahead. Arkansas is hilly and dense with growth. Then Texas begins to stretch flat and dry with stunted-looking trees standing on slight hills. Soon it’s just flat and dry – mile after mile after mile. Finally, the ground begins to heave and New Mexico interrupts the monotony of Texas with its red rocks, endless vistas, rolling hills, and mountains scattered here and there. I love that I can see 40 or 50 miles, til a hill blocks the view. The trees are what people in the South would call shrubs. Call ‘em what you like, they don’t get in the way of your looking.
I spent Friday night at a Motel 6 in Amarillo, TX – everything I needed for $40 less than I’d paid the night before. But shortly after settling in, I heard this funny, tinny sound – hail and lots of it. Weather channel app on my phone explained we were under a significant weather threat with forecasts of 50 MPH winds, hail the size of nickels, with tornadoes spotted. Oh well, at least I wasn’t getting pounded in a tent or waiting it out under an overpass on the highway. I looked out the window once at my bike and decided if it blew over, I’d pick it up in the morning. This  morning the clouds were dark and low, and I rode thru some light rains. The kind of rain you might not take a walk in, but on the bike it’s kind of nice. I could see that I was riding out of it soon, so I didn’t stop to put on rain gear. You dry pretty fast at highway speeds.
The clouds hung low all day today, and it was actually cool enough for a Tshirt, long sleeve shirt, windbreaker, and my vented jacket. I stopped at Clines Corner on I40 in NM – my favorite tacky store. It’s stuffed with colorful junk. Then I headed north to Santa Fe where I’ll stay the night. The last hour on the road the winds kicked up, reminding me that the VStrom weighs about 400 pounds less than the Gold Wing did. The winds were not enough to be dangerous but enough to be tiring.
Each day, I’ve gotten temporarily misplaced. Mostly, I think it’s funny; it helps to not be in a hurry and to be alone so there is no one complaining. Being lost out in the open is one thing, but I don’t like being lost in a city. But … I took the city bus to downtown Santa Fe to the REI store, walked around the plaza awhile, and got so turned around I couldn’t find the bus station. Finally, I made it back to my motel, but with heavy black clouds building. I’d gone to REI to get a few things because I plan to tent camp at the conference center near Abiquiqu. Dark clouds and camping don’t seem to mix. I’d assumed Friday night was a Texas thing. Back at the motel, there was a repeat of last night – hail, high winds, reports of tornados. If the weather hasn’t cleared by the time REI opens tomorrow, I may just return this stuff! They have full accommodations at the conference center; somehow I was thinking it would be a beautiful place to tent camp.
I brought a camera but realized last night that I packed the wrong cable, so I can’t download pictures to my computer or blog. I may be able to buy one tomorrow or I may only be able to post what I get on my cell phone. For now, I’ll just post pictures on the Facebook page for Public Secrets and Justice.

There are some things I do fairly well – like wash dishes 😉  But blogging is not yet on the list of things I’m comfortable with.  So it is that today I published what I thought I published several days ago.  Oh well.  Good news is – I’m on the road and loving it!  I left Fl on Wednesday on my Suzuki VStrom, loaded to the hilt.  I stopped to see my special friend, Tom Butts, in Monroeville, AL, and after a 2 1/2 hour cup of coffee,  headed west.  I’m about 1,200 miles into the 1,400+ mile ride to a conference center outside of Santa Fe.  I’ve been on blue highways most of the time, riding through the heart of America.  I wondered if I would enjoy this as much as making the trip with the comfort of a truck & RV – I like it better!  Today, I rode west out of Wichita Falls, TX, on Hwy 287 which runs for long stretches parallel to a railroad track.  I crossed over a creek filled with muddy red water and could smell the creosote on the train trusell –  you can’t do that inside a truck.  Yes, it’s more challenging & thus more tiring on the bike than in the truck – but OMG is it more fun, too. After a couple of days of repacking the bike, things have gotten tighter/smaller.  I start getting antsy after about 100 miles, so I stop and walk around.  I’m directionally challenged, and  spend part of every day lost.  The first morning, I stopped at the edge of the motel parking lot and started laughing – I didn’t know which way to turn.  I had programmed the GPS but decided it was trying to take me to a dreaded Interstate, so I headed the other way.  Wrong!  I’ve repeated that process each of these 3 days – muttering to the GPS & then having to concede that just this once, she was right and I was wrong. I’m averaging 57 MPG on the bike and it’s running like a Singer sewing machine.  I took some pictures with my camera, but packed the wrong cord so I can’t download them ;-( I’ve posted a couple of pictures from my cell phone at my face book page, Public Secrets and Justice.

Silly me, I actually made “plans” to take my truck, motorcycle & RV, and head West to NM, CO, etc. for the summer but I realized 2 days ago that isn’t going to work. So mid-week I’ll load up the motorcycle & head out. No, I can’t take quite as much stuff on the bike, but that’s part of the adventure. I have a few speaking engagements re my book and others may present themselves. I’ll ship books ahead, and have room on the bike for my tent. I love long bike rides 😉 so this lemonade should be sweet. I’ll post blogs here and notes at the FB page Public Secrets and Justice. I’d enjoy hearing from you.

Grandma Ruby recently found my mom’s recipe for gumbo.  It gives you an idea of the sense of humor they shared. 

Crab gumbo  By Nita Melvin, for her friend Ruby Mae Pendrey

One stewing hen, a real old tough one

Cook until it falls apart

Take out of the broth and pick out the bones

Put the chicken back in, if you want to

½ cup of shortening and 1/1/2 tbs flour – brown in cast iron skillet until black and add to broth

Add some okra, corn, celery, peppers, tomatoes and cook for awhile

Add shrimp and blue crab, salt and pepper

Cook until done.

Serve over rice.

This site is under construction and will soon have a new look to focus on my new book. Thank you for your interest and feel free to contact me about the book at gypsyjudge@yahoo.com

Rider Magazine did a great lay out for my article on the 4 Corners 4 Kids Ride.  The June 2013 issue is available in most of the obvious places – Barnes & Noble, Books A Million, many independent bookstores, news stands & some grocery stores.  It’s great to see a motorcycle magazine publicize for these four child-focused charities – Shriners’ Hospitals, Ronald McDonald House, Habitat for Humanity, and the Child Advocacy Centers.  Hopefully the article will generate interest in terms of volunteer work, donations, and/or access to their services.

July 24, 2011 Back to the beginning

After my photo-op at the southern-most point in the US, to further verify that I was at long last in the Keys, my friend Juli and I had fish tacos and key lime pie and I had the perfect pina colado.  Juli drove down from Daytona just to share this time with me, and we had a wonderful visit.  Then mid-day on Friday I headed north on US 1 from Key West and soon hit a horrific thunderstorm on one of the several long bridges connecting the islands.  I pulled off at the end of the bridge, put on rain gear in a gale, and then found a small overhang, where I hung out ‘til the lightening calmed down some.  After the celestial fireworks subsided, I rode on.  Weather changes rapidly in the Keys, and before I made it back to Dade County I was sweltering. I stowed my rain gear, sopping wet, and took the Florida Turnpike and Interstate 75 up to Hwy 27 just west of Ft. Lauderdale.  Hwy 27 is about as “blue highway” as you can get in parts of South and Central Florida.  I made me take this slow road for the 830 mile trek back to The Beginning; otherwise, I’d have done that horse-to-the-barn thing again & there are pretty parts on the state to see, though few along the interstates.

A portion of Interstate 75 crosses the Everglades east to west, and Hwy 27 bisects that great wetland, running north up to Lake Okeechobee.  Because the land is so flat, I only caught glimpses of the Everglades; it’s an area to explore by boat or see from a plane.  Closer to Lake Okeechobee, there was some farming of sugar cane.  I skirted the levies that keep the lake from its historical purpose, and stopped for the night in Sebring, Fl.  Saturday I continued on Hwy 27 north, through citrus groves and stands of large live oaks, by lakes and multitudes of water birds. Ocala is horse country, and many of the horse farms are owned by the truly rich. You’ll see barns the size of a gymnasium but much fancier; semi’s pull long horse trailers; the wooden fences go for miles.  I worked and lived in the Ocala area in the mid-‘80’s, so it was interesting to ride back through.  Outside of Ocala, I picked up Hwy 27A and was soon in rural Florida, the land of the Florida Crackers.  This is an area where they hunt hogs and deer, and there’s not much development for long stretches.

Saturday was perhaps the most physically uncomfortable day I’ve ridden.  One bank thermometer read 100; it felt like the humidity was even higher.  My riding pants began to chafe, and my gloves rubbed a blister on my thumb.  It rained briefly, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting wet.

I stopped for the night in Tallahassee, though I considered pushing on.  It felt awkward, even uncomfortable, realizing this was my last night on the road.

This morning, I went to a Quaker Meeting and then took Hwy 20, which runs south of and somewhat parallel, to Interstate 10.  I got rained on three times today, but none of the frog-strangling rain I met in the Keys.

And finally about 3 pm, I was back at the beginning, 12,919 miles and just over 7 weeks after I left.  An adventure.  A wonderful experience. A time to learn more about four amazing charities, each of which focuses on children.  A reminder what a beautiful country we live in and are responsible for.  I was often touched by the kindness of strangers.  I learned many lessons, many about myself.

I didn’t feel a sense of urgency to “get home” though I felt a need to see my grandkids and spend time with my dog, Grace.  I’m just not one of those who “can’t wait to get home to my own bed.”  Though I did get physically tired at times, I didn’t get tired of the bike.  I guess I proved to myself that I really do like long bike trips 😉

There are a few other stories I’d like to tell, so other posts will follow.  Thanks for following me, back to the beginning.

Four out of Four!

12,186 miles, 28 states, and 4 provinces and a mere seven weeks after leaving Pensacola, Fl, today I parked my bike at the southern-most point of Florida in Key West!!  A TV crew met me at my friend’s house on Big Coppitt and attached two Go Pro cameras to my bike.  Then we rode down to Key West with the van in front shooting more video.  I felt a bit like a celebrity.  The crew was wonderful to work with, and even arranged for me to pull my bike up on the sidewalk right in front of the southern-most monument.  See pixs at http://s1141.photobucket.com/albums/n595/gypsyjudge/

I was given a promotional brochure at the Shriner’s Hospital in Sacramento, and it’s ridden in my luggage across the country.  Across the front page it reads, “A promise worth keeping.”  That sums up my motivation, what has kept me going when it’s been too hot, too cold, too windy, or too buggy.  I’ve met incredible people along the way, and seen portions of this beautiful country.

And how does it feel to finally complete the fourth corner?  It was beautiful riding down the coastline with the ocean to my left, and I was surprised to realize I was crying.  It’s been a long ride – and a good one.