New Mexico Dreamin'
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:: :: me, my bike, 3 1/4 days, 259.18 miles, and 15,605' of vertical: :: :: |
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| Started out on the high road to Taos, leaving the hot, dry valleys for the mountain pines. I camped off the side of the road near Cordova; woke up to watch the full moon set to my left, followed minutes later by the sun rising at my right. Above is the view west from my impromtu campsite! (I didn't start until 5:30 in the evening on the first day, and made it here after dark.) I cycled through many small towns on my first full day on the road, including Las Trampas where I found this beautiful church, built in 1760. At right is my first view of Mt. Wheeler and the heart of the "Enchanted Circle," coming over the pass to Taos. |
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| A race against a thunderstorm added some excitement to the end of the first full day. (I suppose I wasn't too scared, as I had a chance to take a few pictures of the storm cresting the peaks to the west, the sun flooding beneath.) It did rain pretty hard, but the sun the next morning greeted me as opened up the tent. Alas, if I could only wake up to a view like this every morn. It was then time to take on Bobcat Pass, the "high point" of the trip. Word to the wise: don't eat a lot before climbing passes. The stuffed sopapilla nearly killed me going up Palo Flechado Pass (9101') the day before. But it was so tasty . . . worth it in retrospect, at least. There were some nice views going up Bobcat pass (bottom left) and some great downhills on the other side (bottom right), as I raced to Red River. |
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| The biggest adventure came on the second full day. I was working my way back south along the west side of the Enchanted Circle. Some beautiful vistas (as shown above!), but a killer head wind slowed me to a crawl. I'd seen a picture of the Rio Grande Canyon at a tiny hamburger joint on the road to Taos, so I decided to take a "detour" west on US 64. With the wind at my back I was racing, over 40 miles an hour at points. It was flat country; you hardly saw anythig until you were right about to fall into the chasm. A narrow bridge arched 700 feet above the waters. |
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| According to a map I found at a rest area just over the bridge, a dirt path travelled 9 miles to the south along the west rim of the canyon, leading to another road/path that took one to the bottom of the canyon. It was nearly 7 o'clock, but I had my tent and water with me, and decided to take a chance. I soon destroyed my inner cog trying to get over a ridge. Undaunted, I employed by boy scout skills, made an emergency repair and decided to press on. I'm so glad I did; it was the most beautiful experience on the trip. I was totally alone, a 40 mile an hour wind racing from the Sangre de Cristo mountains to the east, the sun splattering color from the west, the sky an endless dome above. I felt so small, so blessed, so free. These pictures simply don't do justice to the experience, just as the words fail. It was dark by the time I reached the end of the trail. I flagged down a motorist for directions, found the road, wound down into the canyon, discovered a nice BLM campground at the base, and fell asleep to the rush of the Rio Grande slowly working its way yet deeper into the rock. |
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| It was a parched trek through the New Mexico heat on the low road back to Sante Fe, but I did stop to sample some of New Mexico's finest wines at a roadside vineyard. (My friend is Sante Fe said "Black Mesa" is one of the best wineries in the state! I did try to sit far on the side, as not to detract from the olfactory experience of the other tasters!) The roads of New Mexico are lined with crosses, the toll of drunk driving and rural poverty. It's sad, as the only objects I saw more frequently on the side of the road were beer and liquor bottles. Barbed wire fence was also a common site, keeping back the ubiquitous cattle. Towering clouds hinted at the rain to come, though it held off until the last few miles in Sante Fe! |
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:: :: To end on a high note, a shot of me above the Ghost Ranch, the stomping grounds of artist Georgia O'Keefe. We visited the ranch the weekend before my cycling adventure. After her death, O'Keefe's ashes were spread on the flat topped Pedernal mesa visible in the background on the left. She once said that God told her he would give it to her if she painted it enough! Not to detract from her artistic skill, but I can now better understand how she could create such beautiful paintings, given the grandeur of the New Mexico landscape. :: ::
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