My ride today had me thinking about soap commercials from my childhood. There was one which used a “Springtime in the mountains” theme. I think it was Irish Spring but I’m not sure. Whatever it was I sure had that same happy feeling on this ride.

I rode from Alamogordo up into the mountains east of there to the small town of Cloudcroft. It is a resort community that serves the various outdoor hobbies that take place in the Lincoln National Forest – skiing, snowboarding, camping, hiking and hunting among others. The ride to Cloudcroft was a constant climb of turns and s-curves that made the 15 mile ride up a sheer delight.

I stopped for breakfast at one of the restaurants recommended by some search engine. The staff was clearly having a bad day with only one cook and waitress but they were very pleasant people and a delight to talk to over a second cup of coffee. Somehow I never got a spoon to stir my coffee but a little improvisation with a Splenda packet and all was fine.

I had it on my mind to buy a pair of those fancy hiking pants that have the zip off legs and since there was a bike/hike shop just down the street I figured I was in luck. Who knew that you had to have either a 32 or 34 inch waist to be a hiker in New Mexico?  I left with my unspent cash safely in my size 38 pants and went back to my bike.

I left Cloudcroft and rode a long loop through and around the forest over to the White Mountain Apache reservation. Don’t confuse this with the White Mountain Apache reservation in eastern Arizona. Same tribe different places. Cloudcroft is at about 8750 feet elevation and the ride took me even higher. At one point the alpine forest thinned considerably  and I thought I might ride above the timberline but the road turned downward and back into the forest where I was greeted with more miles of wonderful curves and curves and curves. Most of you reading this know I am a novice at this type of riding. I kept wondering what a really experienced rider would have done on these roads. Still, I am confident I got my monies worth for the morning. I toured some National Forest campgrounds while I was up there and made plans to return and camp there tomorrow night. The campground host told me all of the Cloudcroft area campgrounds are pretty much full on the weekends but during the week you can have your pick.  I’ll let you know how my camping excursion went on my next post.

In the afternoon I wanted to visit two places in the area  – White Sands National Monument and the Oliver Lee State Park. I made it to both of them.

White Sands national Monument abuts the White Sands Missile range. The monument consists of thousands of acres of protected gypsum (I think) dunes. The dunes are formed by the effect of evaporation from nearby lakes. The residue is the gypsum which blows onto the dunes area as it has for millennia. Just imagine going to the beach without an ocean or water of any kind and you will understand the reality that is WSNM. There are picnic tables, grills, shelters, areas to play in the sand dunes and instead of swimming people sled down the dunes on the little round discs we all used to use on the snow when we were kids. The dunes are really tall so sledders pick up a lot of speed coming down the dunes. I watched  several groups do this. It appeared the grandparents were content to sit under the sunshades and just watch although they did seem to make frequent trips to their Yeti coolers to remove beverages and return to their beach chairs to drink them.

I used my nifty little BMW GPS to plan a route from WSNM to the Oliver Lee State Park. Remember how I was complaining about the overly sensitive German engineers yesterday? Well I take it back. I love them today. They have planned the GPS to configure routes based on available road surfaces. There was a perfectly safe and reliable route to the Oliver Lee on major highways but the Germans would have none of it. Instead they gave me back roads and gravel and red dirt and ruts and dips and oh, I wish it had never ended. This GS is absolutely rock solid on those roads. Again I felt they were wasted on  the likes of me, but I was glad to have taken my turn at it.

So why did I go to the Oliver Lee? If you’re an Old West buff you know who he was . If you’re not then I’ll enlighten you. Oliver Lee and Albert Fountain were on opposite sides of the famous Lincoln County range wars of the late 1800’s. Lee was ruthless in trying to become top dog in those parts. Fountain was a lawyer who wanted to stop what he perceived as Lee’s land grab. Fountain ended up with a group of young men on his side who were known as the Regulators. They were all young men. One of those young fellows was William Bonney. You know him as Billy the Kid. Well, Lee hires Pat Garrett to kill the Kid which he did. Then someone ambushed Fountain and his eight year old son on the road. Their bodies were never found. Pat Garret knew Lee hired it done and so Garret went after Lee and had him brought to trial. Money talks and the money talked Lee into an acquittal. Later, Pat Garrett is ambushed and killed. Lee was the last man standing and he got it all. He got the land, he got the woman, he won elections, he was the founder of Alamogordo. He had many children and grandchildren. They still live here. They still have the same kind of clout old murdering Papaw Lee had so they got a state park named after him. It’s really a nice park with a well thought out campground and the restored Oliver Lee ranch house. When you visit you owe it to your view of history to visit the place. It is a lasting reminder that the winner writes the history no matter how many people he had to murder to be the winner.

I wrapped up my day with another, shorter back roads ride outside of Alamogordo having been to the mountaintop, the beach and then the home place of a really bad guy depending on how you read your history.

I’ll ride some more back roads tomorrow and do some camping and let you know how it goes.

Be safe,
Brian

Today was a day of meeting people.  I rode 325 miles from Eagle Nest through Taos then on to Santa Fe before heading south to Alamogordo. The ride was great but it all started with people.

When I’m out on the road I look for unusual places to eat. I’ll hit the chains as a last resort but if I have the opportunity I go for something less reliable and make it an adventure. I had a few choices for breakfast in Eagle Nest this morning. One was a big box affair that had a large sign emblazoned with the words “Country Kitchen.” There were several cars parked in front of the establishment and most were rentals. Across the street was a little blue building, maybe thirty feet by forty. It was constructed of cinder block. At some point many years ago it had been painted a light blue. Now it was just tired. A small sign hung above the door – “D&D Cafe.” There were three pickup trucks parked outside and it had been years since any of them had been new on the showroom floor. I walked in and was greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon on the griddle. Things were looking up.

The “D&D” had only five tables in the whole place. The first table by the entrance was the “Liars Table” and it was occupied by the usual gathering of old men who gather in places like this every morning to share fellowship and generally let the world know they are not dead yet. I get that sort of thing now after my cancer journey.  Anyway, one table was vacant at the back so I walked over and sat down. The old guys had the first two tables, then a loner was in the third and finally a couple was in the fourth. The old guys had it together in a cantankerous sort of way. Tables three and four were not in our solar system. Here is a little of what I heard while I was having my coffee:
The lady at table four talking to her male companion – “Aw Sam ain’t gonna be able to knock him down. He’s got that T plus love.” I’ll let you know when I figure out what “T plus love” is.
The lead old guy at table one explaining to his crowd how his brother who couldn’t serve in the Korean war because he “knocked up” his wife, is doing now health wise. He is doing better now that “they have changed his medication.”
Back to the lady at table four “I think my neighbor thinks he’s a dog. He kind of looks like one the way he lays down in the yard.”
Back to the old guys at table one who have pretty much explained to the world how to mow a yard. Then the head old guy yells at the cook, “I’d like my breakfast before dinner tonight!” to which the cook told him to shut up or he would get his breakfast on a stick.
Then the guy at table three who has been smiling at everyone and talking to the wall and the baseball card collection that is framed and hung on the wall facing his table. He gets ready to leave and walks over to me and tells me he is a diamond cutter who works at a secret diamond cutting location on his uncle’s ranch outside of Eagle Nest. He says it’s not his real job but he’ll keep doing it for the next five years “until the investigation is over and things die down.” Says he was a pilot about forty years ago and has been to the airport to rent a plane and is sure it “will all come back to him as soon as he is in the air.”
Back to table one, the head old guy yelling at the cook again who still hasn’t fixed his breakfast “Well, if you can’t cook some coffee would be nice.”
And all of this before I had ridden one mile.
This is what makes solo travel so very special. Out on the road, unencumbered by the proprieties of companionship a lone rider is free to embrace the world on it’s terms. People see us and ask us questions and on some very rare occasions like this morning at the D&D we are welcomed into the ordinary lives of folks we will never see again.  That one hour at the D&D made the entire trip for me. Fortunately the ride continues.

I left the D&D wondering why I had ordered the giant double fiery green chili breakfast burrito along with four cups of coffee. Blame it on the entertainment. After a short walk back to the motel I loaded the bike and hit the ignition. That’s when the little Bavarian engineers interfered with my trip. The day before it had been the check oil light and the engine temperature warning. This morning the ASC and the ABS alerts were blinking at me. I pulled out the manual and cleared the ASC but the ABS would not resolve. There was nothing for it but to go to the BMW dealer in Santa Fe. I planned a route through half of the enchanted circle of the Taos ride and went at it. If the ABS wasn’t working then it didn’t matter because the GS took the countless curves and turns with no problem. Fortunately the little BMW GPS has all BMW dealers addresses in America preloaded in the computer. With a punch of a button I was off to the dealership.

The Santa Fe dealer shares space with the BMW automobile dealer which translates into some really nice real estate. A young man named Tao greeted my at the door. I explained my problem with the fault indicators. He immediately took the GS back to the technician who ran a diagnostic on the bike. In short order he told me there was nothing wrong with it. It’s just those German computers. He said the BMW computers are very sensitive. Well I’m sensitive too but I didn’t say anything. It does occur to me that BMW needs to get their obsessive German engineers to tone it down a little on the sensitivity of their stuff. I’m all for knowing what wizards those guys are but I really didn’t relish driving through downtown Santa Fe on a Saturday when everybody and their mother was trying to get out of town. Still, it must be noted how very professional and prompt the Santa Fe dealer’s staff was to me. While the bike was being checked out Tao gave me a tour of the facility and showed me the new bikes as well as a customized Iron Butt GS that looked more complicated than a spaceship. All in all I had a good time there.

I decided to head south to Alamogordo. Now, you won’t find that town on any list of great rides. Alamogordo matters to me because that is where USAF 1st Lieutenant Elliott House will be spending the next three years of his life defending his country. Lt. House is my son and I decided to exercise the “Focker Prerogative” and go check things out first hand to make sure the Air Force would meet my expectations.

The ride was unremarkable until I was clear of Albuquerque. I took a few side roads through Indian reservations but it was I-25 until highway 380 which was stunning in it’s desert beauty. The accompanying photos provide just a glimpse of the scenery. As I was riding along 380 I realized there were no buildings of any kind. Nothing. Not one. Hadn’t been for miles. It occurred to me someone could make a killing developing this beautiful place. According to my GPS there were plenty of streets in this area and all of them had the same initials followed by different numbers – “wsmr”. Hmm and then I saw the big sign. Wait for it. “White Sands Missile Range.” I was riding through the place where our government teaches it’s aspiring missile shooters how to shoot missiles and bombs and assorted instruments of destruction. The German Luftwaffe is also based nearby learning how to fly and shoot stuff from the platform of our new Raptor fighter jets. So, basically I was driving through a target. Comforting.

I’m going to hang around Alamogordo for a few days and learn some more about the place while taking a day ride tomorrow. Every day has been a blast. It’s the unexpected that make it so much fun. I think life is like that too. We can all get by doing the predictable and the very planned out but it’s how we adapt and manage the unforeseen and difficult that define who we are in the end.

I’m looking forward to another interesting breakfast tomorrow.
Be safe,
Brian

I made it to Eagle Nest, New Mexico today. It was a long 475 mile ride but I got here. I saw some really beautiful terrain today interspersed among some horrific Kansas wind and a hour long thunder and lightning storm on the way to Taos. All told I have ridden 1430 miles these past three days.

First, the good stuff:
I left a thoroughly forgettable motel in Medicine Lodge, Kansas and rode through the Gypsum Hills Scenic Area of western Kansas on highway 160. The fields were lush green and flowers were everywhere. The road is mile after mile of rollers that are straight as a ruler. Within 20 miles of leaving Medicine Lodge the terrain began to look like the real west or at least what I  think it looks like with grazing land for as far as the eye can see. There were some wheat crops growing but they soon gave way to beef ranches.
I had lunch today at a tiny Mexican restaurant about 25 miles from the Kansas/Texas border. The food was excellent. I was the only customer. There was a “For Sale” sign in the window. I suspect I was one of the last patrons.

Then came the bad stuff:
The winds today were the worst I’ve ever ridden in. Granted there are a lot of riders with many more years of experience but I’ll just say I leaned and pushed and pulled for all I was worth to keep the GS pointed in the right direction. This little wind gauntlet lasted for two hours. It was all I ever wanted of that particular fresh hell and I’ll be looking for a different return route home.

The winds finally begin to abate after I left Oklahoma and rode into Texas. It was really hard for me to find a direct route road with low traffic numbers. Every road I picked had a stated speed limit of 65 or 70 or 75 which meant trucks were flying . Each one punished me with a blast. I was thrilled to cross the Texas / New Mexico state line and I thought I was home free.

The road to Eagle Nest is essentially the road to Taos from an eastern approach. You can see the mountains in the distance. They are majestic and for me signaled my arrival. The only problem was the massive storm brewing on top of those mountains. The closer I rode the more lightning and thunder came my way. I hoped it would go around but no such luck. The full force of the storm hit me and stayed with me for 50 miles. I got it all from wind, rain, tiny hail, lightning and pooled water on the road. Since there is no place to ever pull off to the side of the roads out west it was either ride and maybe die or stop in the road and die for sure. I rode. I am really pleased with the GS. I put it in Road/Wet mode and the bike performed great. I rounded a curve to find a huge puddle covering the entire road. The GS went through it like it was dry ground. My Aerostitch coat and pants were rock solid waterproof as well.

Now for my major disappointment – I rode to Eagle  Nest to visit the Laguna Vista bar which has been called by some “The Best Bar In The West.” That’s a pretty tall order when you think of the Crystal Palace in Tombstone or one of several bars in Bisbee, AZ or the bar at the Erma Hotel.  The Laguna bar had no draft beers of any kind. It did have a few pool tables of the put your quarters in variety.  When I went in there at 8:30 there wasn’t a soul in the place. The gas station attendant told me tomorrow is “Fish For Free” day in New Mexico and everyone is home getting their tackle ready. I asked her what the big fish around these parts was and she replied “bluegill, but they are bigger this year.” There you have it. Next time you want someone to quit drinking just take them bluegill fishing. Works every time.

The road from I-25 Exit 486 to Eagle Nest is just absolutely, stunningly awesome. Curves and curves and curves with streams rolling alongside the road and antelope grazing nearby. I counted 14 of the little lopesters. Think of this stretch of road as being similar to the Dragon but three times as long with much better scenery. That of course, is why I really made the journey to the mountain.

I’m going to dial down the miles tomorrow and get some rest. I am more than a little tired.

Bless you all,
Brian

P.S. Here is a pic of my GS in the parking lot of the Laguna Vista Motel in Eagle Nest, NM. Note the snow on the mountain in the background.