New Mexico in a week...

[swingset]

Nine days, that's all I had to do it all. Family trip, epic motorcycle adventure, visit my retired mother, make it home, and please everyone. I don't see why not?

Before we get into the riding, it's important to summarize the trip with important statistics.

Number of miles travelled by vehicle:

3,821 by car.

1,100 by Vstrom

.3 miles by Rascal mobility scooter

Animals seen dead on the side of the road:

3 Coyote

2 Aardvarks

3 Cats

1 Box turtle

1 Possible hobo, vagrant, carnival worker...or more than likely a sheepdog wearing a robe

Near death experiences by count:

1 Water crossing at high speed

2 Long-haul truckers trying to run us off the road

1 Mexican chiles sprinkled over my burrito

3 Raging, PMS'ing travelling companions

Regrets by category:

Wish I had gone to a better college

Should have skipped that chile-loaded burrito

Could have done heavy drugs while crossing Oklahoma with no ill effects or missing anything scenic.

So, now that we're up to snuff on the technicalities, let's break down this adventure so you can immerse yourself in it...cause you know you wanna. The reality of my fantastically interesting life is that I have very little time for vacation, stuck in a career with deadlines I've never been able to take long stretches of vacation. I enjoy my work, so that's not a sentence or curse, but it means my hobbies are somewhat truncated and the kinds of epic motorcycle adventures some guys enjoy are just not in the cards for me, at least not yet. Having family pressures to do things together in this already lean situation compels me to try to incorporate family and motorcycle things together. A challenge, to say the least. But, with my mother's recent retirement move to southern New Mexico and my desire to visit and have the family do something interesting, I figured I'd try to throw it all together...road trip, family visit, motorcycle adventures, and sight-seeing extravaganza on a budget. Easy, right? Sure.

I knew next to nothing about southern New Mexico as a destination, but a few trips to Google Earth started me thinking it might be a spectacular area for motorcycling. Las Cruces, where my mom had moved, was flanked on all sides by mountains and the roads looked very tempting. In addition, a lot of western history in the area begged to be explored and visited. I started doing my homework and planned a trip.

The idea would be to take my wife and daughter, and my teenage neice across country via SUV and tow the Strom and mix the trip into car & bike travel. For a bike trip I'd love to just be on the bike, but it did have advantages and having a base to operate out of lets you do things that a solo bike trip doesn't and I planned on taking advantage of them. Grandma & her girls could shop & visit while the wife and I rode around the mountains, so everyone would be happy.

We loaded up and departed early Saturday morning...planning on splitting the 24-hour drive from Central Ohio to New Mexico into two days, stopping in Tulsa which was the halfway point. I could do the drive straight through, not impossible but have you ever been stuck in a car with two teenage girls? I'd need a beer by evening...or methodone, or a stripper. It's just not smart to subject yourself to a car full of women for 24 hours straight. People die like that. Easier to find a motel.

We took off early, and trucked through the midwest making good time, hit St. Louis by dinner time.

We rolled into Tulsa, the cultural epicenter of cattle country, and interestingly one of the few large metro areas where PA-systems are bound by city ordinance to play rowdy country music, even in funeral homes and churches. It's the law, folks. We holed up in a deluxe motel, where cheating husbands and wives, truckers, and scary people with sleeved-tats go to mingle and party. It's here the sole evidence of my shameful trailering of an adventure bike was documented. Behold:

We managed to slink along old Route 66 looking for interesting artifacts of the old bygone area, but they've been removed and sold to American Pickers. We did find a neat retro-diner and the girls thought it looked worth hitting. The prices were insanely high, and this explains why we were the only people there, but I gotta say the 5 & Diner in Missouri makes an awesome bacon-cheeseburger. Like, orgasmic good. I had to clean up afterwards, that good.

I'd like to show off vast archives of the scenic areas between Illinois and the Texas line, but there are none. Not one. Sorry. The sole redeeming event in this stretch of road was the discovery of the only gas station that has tempted my wife, a demure and sophisticated lady to go full-white-trash and buy a T-shirt. She just loved the message this company projects, and said she can really get behind it. How can you argue with logic like this?

We hit the Texas line, and soaked in the many sites of the panhandle (snicker). Ok, did I see this in a rest stop and really felt for the first time that stealing a big-rig is in my wheelhouse.

Around lunch time we rolled into Amarillo and decided to pay the Big Texan a visit, Man Vs. Food and all that. I got a look at the "72 oz. free steak", but thought better of the challenge....saw a big old Harley riding guy muscling it down and not even close to making it under the time limit, and it kind of made me sick. Good grub, tho, and lots of friendly folks there.

I liked the hotel beside it, might stay there some time in the future.

I had forgotten about the other claim to national fame that Amarillo boasts, until one of the girls spied it out the window...the famous Cadillac ranch on I44. We stopped and let the girls partake in the tradition of assaulting the caddies with graffitti (it's encouraged by the artist/owner, apparently).

The last time I had seen this in person, the caddies were freshly planted. Time sure has flown.

From here we ventured south into New Mexico, and caught Portales where my favorite plane of all time was sitting on static display in the town center...the mighty F111.

Then onto Roswell, where the cheesy alien-themed shops ruined my idealized image of Roswell and the UFO story. We didn't even see a mutilated cow or anyone with an running down the street looking confused and disheveled fresh from an anal probing by grays. Meh, what a let down...but one of the restaurants was a nice diversion.

This cool old Guzzi was greeting us in the entrance.

The restaurant had a UFO theme, big space ships hanging from the ceiling. Nice place, I recommend it if you're in the area. The beer is super cold, and that's important.

From Roswell we headed west over into the mountains and caught Ruidoso, a very pretty city nestled in the upper altitude, home of the very gay Neil Patrick Harris, and at last the scenery of the southwest started to look impressive. The light was running out, so our final drive into southern New Mexico and Las Cruces wasn't worthy of photos...but the lights of the city as we crested the Organ Mountains was welcome and beautiful. I did catch this coming over the mountains near Ruidoso.

We got to my mom's quiet little retirement village later at night, and we all crashed hard after a long day on the road.

The next day, finally, the bike was off the trailer and waiting to go have some fun....ok, so now it's gonna turn into a ride report!! In the morning we caught up with mom, sat around the pool and let the girls have fun while we chatted and made plans for the week. The wife and I jumped on the bike and headed out to explore local sites with mom and the girls in tow following in the car. Las Cruces is a big city, typical of many desert cities I've been to but luckily mom's place was very near Old Mesilla, a historic little community so we headed there for some lunch and exploration. On the way we passed through the Pecan farms south of town and got views of the mountains to the south.

[swingset]

In Old Mesilla, we got off the bike and walked around the interesting old downtown.

Interesting little store that was once the capitol of NM & AZ and was the site where Billy the Kid was tried.

This store had an interesting history...

Lots of cool little shops, all with some interesting history if you ask the owners...recommend spending a day here.

Getting hungry, mom recommended La Posta, a famous restaurant in the area. It's laid out like a villa, and each room is themed and very pretty. The food is awesome authentic mexican, and a huge exotic bird cage greets you when you walk in. Prices were reasonable and the staff is great...this place is a wonderful stop. The galley of the nuclear sub USS New Mexico is named La Posta, that's how good it is.

We did some more shopping and I paid my "keep the girls happy" dues....lots of gift shops with tacky Native American garb and stores selling pinon and peppers, but I had a great time seeing my mom and exploring where she lives. She's very happy, has great neighbors, and lives in a nice little gated community. It's great to see her busy & happy, enjoying her days. She offered to take the girls to the mall & the movies the next day, and Debra & I prepared for a big ride...I had plans for scenic mountains.

In the morning we loaded up the bike and in the cool desert air departed west out of Las Cruces, passing through Deming and heading north towards Silver City. At a gas stop a nice latino guy on a KLR650 chatted us up and told us some places to see, his name was Eduardo and knew his stuff...so thank you Eduardo for the suggestions! He's riding in front of us in this pic.

We stopped in Silver City, at the foot of the Gila Mountains, and grabbed some overpriced and bland breakfast at a local place (they're not always better, sadly). But, it was warm and food and we weren't there to wine & dine. We hopped on the bike and caught Route 15 north out of town on the Trail of the Mountain Spirits Byway...not knowing at all what awaited us for roads other than they looked awesome on Google Earth.

Just a few miles north of Silver City there's a small mining town, nearly a ghost town, that runs along Route 15 called Pinos Altos. Very neat place, things are preserved and much of the city is as it was in the late 1800's. The bar was closed on this trip, but we stopped by later in the week and it's spectacular...like a western movie set and has been a saloon since the 1850's.

This building was likely a residence of Judge Roy Bean.

This little museum/gift shop is a trip, the owner is a friendly and somewhat strange little guy who's the descendent of the owners from 4 generations ago, and much of the museum is family heirlooms and Pinos Altos history, and he knows it well. His prices are great, and he's a rock hound so my daughter was smitten...he made her some great deals on gems & rare rocks and gave us all free entry into the museum. If you pass through, go in and say hi...he's a wealth of local knowledge, and loves to tell you all about it.

From here, we headed north on Route 15, the only road out and it goes nearly 80 miles in a loop along with Route 35 to form the Trail of Mountain Spirits. At the top, 15 goes to the Gila Indian Ruins, one of the destinations we were looking forward to. As soon as we left Pinos Altos, the Gila National Forest started in earnest and the small road became curvy and wonderful...and there was no traffic at all. As you view the series of pictures I've posted, bear something in mind...I left some of the most awesome scenery uncaptured...it was just too fun to stop and snap pictures all the way through the good stuff. I had to remind myself to do it. It's better than I could possibly capture.

This canyon appeared underneath of us, and the Gila River was at the bottom, as we turned to go to the Gila Indian Ruins. Around here a lone motorcycle passed us, and the rider waved enthusiastically.

The weather up in the mountains is notoriously dicey, this their monsoon season and we watched in the distance as several storm heads were rolling in...wondering when and if we'd get ours.

Copperas Pass is a nice stop along the way.

[swingset]

The twisties were relentless, just non stop.

Finally, we arrived at the Gila Indian Ruins at the top of Route 15 (it literally dead ends there, and you must double-back to catch 35 to complete the Spirit loop. When we came to a stop, I heard a sweet sounding bike coming up the road, and turned to see the guy on the red bike that had waved at us half an hour earlier roll in. He jumped off this cool Guzzi 950 cafe project.

He saw our Ohio plates and told us he grew up in Toledo, and lived in the canyon very near the ruins...literally in the wilderness, a true homesteader. Said when he saw us he was so happy to see an adventure bike he wheeled around and had to say hi. He looked like just the kind of guy that would live in the forest and ride a Guzzi too...like an old 60's rock star or something. Super nice guy, invited us back to his place for a beer and offered to let me ride around on the cool trails on his mountain side...said it was doable on a Strom. How can you say no to that? He told me where to find his place, and sped off while Debra & I explored the ruins.

The ruins are 700 year old cave dwellings left by the Mogollon tribes, tucked into a beautiful canyon deep in the Gila mountains, at the foot of the Gila river. You have to walk over the river to enter the canyon.

You have to walk over a mile on the trail, and it's steep in parts, but a great walk and breathtaking as it reveals the ruins and cliff face as you go.

As you get close, you can see the ruins off in the distance.

A cooking room in the ruins...

The roof is still sooted from 700 year-old fires.

Corn was excavated from the site, buried and petrified...tiny too.

There are a lot of cave paintings here and at a site close to the ruins. The lower Scorpion trail just down the road has several too, as well as another Mogollon dwelling.

We left the awesome ruins, and headed to our new friend's place...our jaws dropped when we saw it...looked like Hitler's Eagle's Nest retreat in the Alps!

Drank a beer on his porch and talked bikes, he has several Guzzi's and then he showed us the hiking path and told us to ride it up to the top of the mountain. Debra got a look at it and gave it a hearty "Oh hell no!". So, undeterred, I rode it by myself....vowing I'd turn around if it got hairy. It got hairy, and guess what? You can't turn around....you just have to ride that SOB until you get to the top. S-H-I-T, it was skeery....but awesome.

Starts like this...not too bad.

Then, it gets a little rocky...not where you ride...but if you happen to fall over? You're hitting a big rock.

Then, and I can only relate this without the aid of pictures because I was filling my shorts with fear....it goes on the side of a mountain. It's wide, and smooth, but the potential for death is great if you freak and go over. But, I rode 1700 miles in a car with three women, and by God I was going to go up this thing. When I got to the first place I could stop and take a pic, I snapped the trail below I had just rode.

It would have been good if I had video of this, but the running commentary would have sounded like a Tourette's outburst. Just better to imagine I was brave and awesome. Coming down on the other side was basically a big quad trail that you could have gotten a Gold Wing down, but it was damned cool and thanks to my new friend for the opportunity to ride this, it was fantastic!

After we left there, the rain was starting to come in, and by the time we got onto the lower half of 35 and the more gentle side of the Mountain Spirits Byway, we were getting soaked. We had our rain gear on, but the drenching was getting brutal..winds and lightning picking up and we soldiered on through until the cell let up on us. As soon as we drove out of the rain, the skies parted almost instantly and sun came out and almost instantly dried us off. The clouds ahead looked ominous, so we kept our gear on but for now we were cruising through the sweepers. We passed the Continental Divide.

35 is more laid back, full of farms and cattle, and the road wasn't as technical. Soon tho, we around a turn to find one of the ubiquitous washout areas (marked by a "DIP, Standing Water" sign) full of run-off. A Harley rider and his wife were trying to gently wade through it.

[swingset]

Obviously, it didn't concern me as much and I blasted through it while the Harley guy watched. He looked astonished I didn't take it easy through there, but it was barely 4" of water. We talked to them about their ride, they had been at the ruins earlier...nice retired couple from Arizona. We went ahead while they were mounting back up.

It's here that a smart person might have done some deductive reasoning. I imagine, this is what a smart person would think:

"Self, you know what? That was a rain-washout because of the heavy downpour you just got. I'd imagine that if there was one washout, there will likely be more so you had better pay attention and adjust your speed and ride a little more defensively."

Luckily for the drama of my ride report, there were no smart people on my bike so we don't have to worry about the dull, cautious mindset that avoids possible death and makes for boring ride reports. So, I rode on in the beautiful weather as if the road was dry...because it was. I rounded a turn, saw a small crest with straight road ahead and as I looked down into the dip I was about to hit at 60mph in about 1 second, I saw a reddish brown, heavily flowing, muddy debris-filled river of unknown depth where the road should be.

F.....U......C.....K........brakes...C.....R....A......P....heavy brakes........shit, I am going to hit this water really really fast........I can't hit this water while I'm on my brakes or we die.......F.......U......what do I do?....let off the brakes, hit the gas or we're going over the bars to our deaths.....yup, gas it..........WHOOOSH.

Now, let me tell you what happens when a 550lb bike, heavily loaded 2-up hits 12-14" of water, with rocks & sand and some little sticks floating in it with almost no front wheel loft. It makes a big splash, a virtual wall of water plume and that muddy water consumes every bit of your forward-vision, peripheral vision, and if you were thinking about it would likely scare the crap out of you. If you were naked while doing this, you'd get a calonic. But, I didn't have time to think about being blind or cleaning my colon of toxins, because the other thing that happens is your handlebars oscillate violently as if 2 pissed off gorillas having seizures are fighting over each side while you passively hold on.

In those split seconds before and during, I can say with honesty that my brain slowed down remarkably well. I made two good decisions once I saw the water, with almost zero time to act, and likely kept us from eating it hard. I'd like to take credit for that, but if I were smart I wouldn't have been going 60mph coming over that crest, right? So, I got really lucky, and we got muddy...and I shat myself, metaphorically of course. But, the good news is we stayed upright and cleared that water.

I swung around quickly as soon as it happened, first to see what we had crossed, amazed we were still upright and in motion, and secondly to quickly warn the Harley guy who was behind me that he was going to hit the water too. Luckily he saw me waving frantically as he approached and slowed down. It's here over the nervous hysterical laughter of my wife (who even now is not sure why laughter was her reaction), I snapped the pic of the washout from the other side...we had come over the rise where the Harley guy is in this pic.

Debra suggested a picture of us too.

The Harley guy attempted to low-speed push his bike across, while his wife waded across. He killed the bike several times and was freaked out how much water was going in his pipes, so I waded out into the water and helped him push it. The water was FAST, and sand and debris was forcefully pushing underneath the current...made it super hard to walk. I can't imagine the forces on the Strom as it hit it...I think the sheer speed of entry probably let us bounce across the crap underneath. I didn't dwell on it, I was just happy to still be alive. Lesson learned...this ain't Ohio, bucko.

We got Harley guy fixed up and his pipes drained, and off they went...wet and unhappy. Debra & I kept going on 35 and soon the scenery turned quite beautiful and we forgot our near-death. We stopped at this azure lake to take a picture and rest...eating some energy bars and drinking some water.

The next stretch was what I had came for....the famous Black Range, SR152 and the mountains from the Gila back down to Hillsboro and the desert floor. I'd like to show you dozens of pictures of the curves, switchbacks, ribbon-candy twisties and epic vistas, but you know what? I was grinning like an idiot sailing through it with abandon. We rode it like a carnival ride, and opportunities along the narrow mountain to stop were few. All I can say is, sorry. Oh wait, I got a couple...

The bottom of the mountains...

The top, at Emory Pass where 10,000 ft. elevations let you look for miles out to the towns and desert.

Something else about the Black Range, and lower New Mexico in general. Know what I saw very little of? I mean, really almost none? Traffic. No bikes, no trucks, no sight-seeing tards poking around. We had 90 miles of unrelenting twisties to ourselves. I wondered, before leaving for New Mexico why more people didn't consider it a destination when the maps looked so promising. I'm still wondering that, but happy to say while people are flocking to the famous motorcycle destinations, we sort of found our own gem. I only saw two adventure bikes the entire trip, a Tiger and a KLR650. No stroms, no GS's, nothing. Some Harleys here and there, an SV650, but mostly people seem either unaware of this area or they don't like it. Fine by me, either way...cause I'm going back!

Coming down out of the mountains we stopped near Hillsboro, and the lower elevations were green and beautiful.

Hillsboro is supposed to have a wonderful little restaurant called the Hillsboro Cafe, two local guys raved about it online, but it was closed and a second trip later in the week met with the same result. Late morning? Closed. Afternoon? Closed. Hey, small business owner, wonder why a Subway can come into your town and run you out? Might have something to do with that. Anyway, it looked nice...but closed is as good as non-existent. So, I give you 1 star for a nice looking sign.

We saw a cool little abandoned villa, and stopped and sat inside it for some shade as the desert was starting to get hot as we decended down.

Riding the straight roads back to Las Cruces, we spied Cook's Peak looming in the distance.

The temperature soared up near 100, and we stopped for some gas as we got near Las Cruces. When this vehicle came rolling in about a dozen hispanic folks that had been standing around seemed in a big hurry to get somewhere else. Curious. That shouldn't make me giggle, but it did. Sue me.

I noticed a sign for clamato/Bud-Light combination. Hadn't heard of this before. Is it for medicinal purposes? I can only imagine. I would have tried it, but I was thirsty for an Orange-Juice/Roofing Tar blend and put it on the back burner. Seriously, clamato? Sickos.

The straight desert roads do funny things to you. Does this cloud look like the Starship Enterprise? It did to me. How sad is that?

Coming into Las Cruces, we saw a storm rolling out and the rainbow went all the way across, even forming a double-rainbow at one point. Much like the often viewed internet funny, I screamed, wet myself, and orgasmed. Did I mention the desert roads make you kind of nutty?

This concluded today's epic ride. We were both tired, but had really enjoyed the day. We spent the next couple with the girls doing family stuff and hanging by the pool, but Thursday we took off again on the bike in search of fun.

[swingset]

Our next destination was northeast and in the early AM we headed north out of Las Cruces on 70 for the White Sands national monument. Before we could get there, a gaggle of government-branded cops signaled us to stop, being the first suckers in a long line of road-blocked travellers. Apparently, and again a victim of our lack of planning, there was to be a missle-test on the White Sands missle range that day...and route 70 goes straight through ground-zero.

We sat for nearly an hour in the sun, us and cattle cars full of restless cows. Eventually a couple other bikes came along, and a nice guy from Turkey named Ganis making his way from the University of Texas back home to San Francisco pulled along side on a Ninja 250 and talked to us for a while. Before we knew it, the first missle whooshed off out in the desert. Unprepared, I didn't get a picture of the launch but caught the vapor trail.

Then, a cop walked by and his radio was chattering a countdown.....5.....4....3....so I knew another launch was about to happen. I got the camera up and zoomed to where the last one had shot from and caught it leaving the launcher. Enhanced it with some contrast so show the launch and missle more clearly. No one on scene knew the kind being tested, but they were big we were a couple miles away judging by the delay in sound....and it shook the floor on takeoff. Cool!

After that, they cleared the scene and we were allowed to roll north. We stopped up the road at the White Sands National Monument.

The white gypsum dunes can be seen for miles, even along the flat desert and it's such an odd and attractive feature you can't help but marvel.

The "sand" is clingy and dense, sticks to everything even bone-dry. Fun to ride on tho, when hard packed it's like rubber that will break loose if you gas it. I'd love to flat-track around the course...but the rangers frown upon it. Ok, I gassed it hard a couple times and kicked the back end out. Fun.

Lizard tracks...

We left the white dunes, cruised through Alamagordo (watching F15's blaze out of Holomon...and so rude to take off before I had my camera on).

We caught 82 and started up the mountain to Cloudcroft...climing 4,000 feet in just 16 miles! The air got cooler by the minute, and soon we were looking at forest and pines, in beautiful lower 80's....it was wonderful. Before Cloudcroft, this neat old train tressel greets you.

We rolled into Cloudcroft, a neat little mountain town with a beautiful downtown.

Hungry, we stopped at the Texas Pit BBQ, where we had the place to ourselves. A couple from Alabama making Texas BBQ for a couple from Ohio, in the middle of New Mexico. Far out, man. Great chow.

After lunch we hit the shops because....well, I had a chick on board. It's the law. Fortunately, there were signs my better half might not be welcome, but she ignored them.

We hit the local bar, a cool little place with a lot of character, and drank a non-alcoholic beer (snicker).

Bought a couple cool items from this little bike/gear/head shop.

The downtown is teeming with wildlife, there were some black bears rummaging through the dumpster before we got there I guess, we saw elk in the mountains, and the whole downtown is adorned with bird-feeders, caught some hummingbirds while we geared up.

The views up here are great, a nice change from the desert. The Lincoln National Forest is gorgeous.

We planned on riding the Sunspot highway from Cloudcroft down to the famous solar observatory, but only made it about 10 miles before the finding a road crew that turned us back, an earlier storm had knocked two trees into the road and a washout lower on the dirt section had made it unpassable anyway, so fearing more weather issues we turned back. I was disappointed, that portion was something I looked forward to but we had seen a lot and were feeling a little guilty so we went back to spend some more time with the kiddos. We did stop along the Sunspot to see the vistas of the valley below, and white sands off in the distance. Beautiful, hard to capture how pretty it is.

We rode back down 82 descending into Alamagordo...in the mid-day sun the drop in temperature went from 81 degrees to this in downtown:

Oooh, but was a dry heat. hehe. Like a kiln.

Last stop was to satisfy my geek-fu, I love the space program and Alamagordo has a neat museum....the New Mexico Museum of Space. Lots of missle technology and rocket hardware there.

A V2 that was tested and recovered after WWII.

The only ride I'd consider more fun than a Vstrom or Kate Beckinsale:

The elusive, often-talked about 2011 Suzuki Vee motor upgrade:

How can you not like rocket surgery? Anyway, this was all very exciting to my wife...so after the third time of waking her up during the museum tour, we headed home by way of the Dairy Queen...an Oreo Blizzard promised in repayment for suffering through Werner VonBraun lectures, and did the 44 miles back to Las Cruces. Passed a hot-air balloon landing near us in the desert.

We rolled into my mom's place and called it a week for our motorcycle portion of the trip, and I spent the rest of the time being a good son and father...and we packed up the Vee and headed home the next weekend, taking a long boring route back to Buckeye country. The girls were exhausted, but we all had a great trip and lots of memories. Sure, some guys do some awesome, epic solo adventures to the top of the world...and that's very admirable but I'm confident I enjoyed my trip more than a person can. Spent every second of it with my favorite people in the world, doing what I love. Not a bad deal, even if I did haul my bike.

[hummingbird]

cool, definitely something I want to do someday. Food is always my favorite part.

[ironbuttwannabe]

Great write up

I've never seen Clamato in a can you could buy before. I think it must be middle US thing. I first had it a few years ago in North Dakota where they just put a couple shots of it in your draft. I thought it tasted pretty good. But after about 4 tall glasses made you feel stuffed. But I didn't really need to eat vegetables for the next week

[gen3flygirl]

Great pictures! Love the commentary you gave.