From Abiquiu we three riders began to climb and climb. But the landscape was now very New Mexico and very arid. You can see in the photo below that the extra water tanker options on my pannier tops have been seeing action again.
Indeed from leaving Abiquiu you climb 4000 feet, almost the same vertical as the biggest climb on the trip that I wrote of recently, Indiana pass. But the biggest difference was swapping snow for salty eye stinging sweat. Also the climb was split over two days (although you could certainly do it in one).
After already gaining over a thousand feet from leaving town you begin to climb a path known as the Polverdera Mesa. This is a lava rock strewn ramp that winds ever up into the brassy blue skies of New Mexico, it's foot exposed to shifting dessert sands, it's crown shaded by towering exotic pines. In my last post I mentioned this is known as the hardest climb on the divide by some. I disagree. It's technical, always bumping from one lava rock to the next, surfing through patches of silvery volcanic sand, but not too muscle taxing. Indeed I found it fun. I say that with two caveats though. One, if you were racing it would cripple your speed. Two, if you came through in monsoon season (like most trails I have followed in NM) you would be in real sticky sandy trouble.
We had some real excitement on the way up too, with Maarten nearly meeting an untimely demise. With Maarten ahead of me I suddenly shouted out the alarm, 'snake'! He passed within maybe a foot of a fairly large rattler. Boy, that snake was not happy. It hissed and rattled it's menaces and curses at us. That rattling sound sure is threatening when you hear it in real life. With myself and Ben trapped on the other side we eventually managed to persuade the rattler to slither into the bushes. The whole event seemed unreal, and plays like a celluloid scene in my head when I think of it.
At about four that day we found a sweet camping spot up in the trees. A fire ring surrounded by large boulders. We called it weathertop or Amon Sul. The truly geeky among you will know why, but we had a fire and got away with it.
The next day we reached the top and rode fifty miles or more of rolling forest before descending into the somewhat decrepit town of Cuba. Not that we really cared, it was a hot shower. It was also the most amazing Mexican food, washed down with huge gold fish like bowls of margherita. Girls night reinstated.
But food aside there was not much to hang around in Cuba for so we rolled out of town and into the desert proper. Apparently this was to be one of the driest three day stretches on the divide to make it to the town of Grants. But the riding was different and exciting, the climbs more short lung busters out of the deep gouges in the earth known as arryos, where the danger of flash floods apparently lurk on their river beds of sand.
We made our campsite for the night and cooked various meals including refried beans and tortillas. We were also eaten alive by mosquitoes. When did those suns of a guns decide to make a return, and what do they eat out in the middle of nowhere when they can't get me? Just as we were getting ready to head to bed our friend from earlier on in the ride rode into camp, Collin.
I was kind of surprised because Collin is something of a racing whippet on the bike, and I thought he may have finished by now. Anyway we built a fire, watched a blood red moon rise above the rock towers of the dessert, and caught up. It turned out Colin had been on a side trip to Santa Fe. Outside the supermarket there he had had his bike stolen. More remarkably though after putting out a description of the bike, he seemed to become a minor local celebrity. This led to a fellow biker spotting the scumbag with his bike, cornering him with his pick up truck, and recovering the bike. Amazing!
So yesterday four riders set out. Two Canadians, one Dutchman, and one Englishman. And what a day. First things first, from Cuba to Grants there is a boat load of deep sand. What's more with my bike so heavily loaded at the rear, it really is not a friend of said deep sand. It's fair to say I ate sand more than once. To be honest it became kind of hilarious. At one point I managed to keep my bike up right through a sand trap, the only problem being it had spun a complete 180 degrees and I was cycling back to Cuba.
Anyway after some slow going and with myself having my first puncture of the trip (but luckily sealed by the goop in my tyre) we made it out of the dessert. However we were still confronted by a 3000ft climb or something like that up into a national forest. Maarten who wasn't feeling great took a detour on the pavement into Grants. I think he is fine though and will check up on him later. But by the top of that climb I was pretty shattered though. Halfway up my tyre popped and resealed again, meaning lots more tiring pumping, only for it to properly pop half a mile later.
Anyway there was nothing else for it but to take the tyre off (the inside now filled with orange goop) and change the tube. As I was doing this Colin pumped up the old tube to spot the hole. Well it had partially resealed and then as he pumped exploded spraying orange goo all over the road. With a few obvious jokes made as well I honestly don't think I have laughed so hard on this trip. That may have partly been due to fatigue and delirium though.
Eventually at dusk we made the water spring where we could supposedly fill up before camping. However there was no water to be found at San Mateo spring, just a grassy river bed. So in a moment of inspiration and madness we decided to push on the twenty miles downhill to Grants in the dark. As the sun left us, Ben and Collin were talking about the daft things they had done while riding on this trip. I pointed out that riding three abreast down the side of a mountain in the dark, all following the one decent headlight that Collin had, probably qualified!
But oh my what an awesome adventure. I can tell you washboard in the dark is ridiculous, leaving you blindly bouncing down the mountain like a kangaroo. And following Collin's headlight I felt like a crazy mountain biking kitten chasing a laser pen through the dark.
However riding beneath radiant stars in an ink black night was so beautiful. Like nothing I have ever done on a bike before. And when we hit pavement and started flying the last ten miles or so downhill into town at about 25mph, well god damn, in the dark that is an adrenalin rush.
Eventually after circling round town we pulled into a motel on route 66 at around 10pm. We dumped our gear and went straight out to the always open Dennys and ate & drank an obscene smorgasbord of food, milk shakes and ice cold sodas. I have put on a photo of the number of drinks that the three of us consumed before any of the food even turned up. I should also point out that when it comes to food Ben is a machine. I can eat a lot but that boy must have a tape worm the size of a boa constrictor. Honestly I have never seen an eater like him, phenomenal.
So around midnight we eventually wobbled to our beds. I just checked and we rode eighty miles yesterday. I wonder what today holds?
No comments:
Post a Comment