Not every trip is a trip. This one was a job: the motorcycles had been sitting in Aimee's uncle Joel's garage in Las Vegas for a month, and they needed to be in Texas.
Justin had already dealt with his. He flew out on his own schedule, collected his bike and rode it home solo — as an Iron Butt run, which is to say a great deal more than a thousand miles inside twenty-four hours, and not something the rest of us were tempted to join in with. That left Ray's and Jerry's in the garage.
So the two of us flew to Las Vegas on the second of December, 2021, and rode home: Phoenix the first night, El Paso the second, and Austin on the third, with Jerry carrying on to East Bernard afterwards. Thirteen hundred miles on Interstate 10 in three December days, covering ground rather than looking at it.
It was still three days on a motorcycle with a good friend, which is never wasted.
The pictures on this trip are stock images from the internet rather than our own photographs — we did not stop to take any. They are here to show roughly where the road went.
