Day 2 – Queen, NM to Granville, AZ – ~465 miles
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&sa...068528,-107.039795&spn=3.429129,4.943848&z=8
I didn’t think much of it the night before, but my campsite in the Lincoln NF was at a little over 7,000’ in altitude. It was
COLD that morning:
I remember it was cool when going to bed, I was wearing a sweatshirt, but it was more due to the wind. I woke up in the middle of the night to zip up my mummy bag and it barely did the trick.
A storm was trying to blow in overnight and I learned a valuable lesson… don’t pitch your tent where bushes or tree limbs will brush against it with the wind in the night. I must’ve woken up 30 times thinking something was trying to get into my tent and it was nothing but the wind…. It never did rain, which is good, because I’m not quite sure how waterproof my tent is…
I got up and at ‘em right with the sun, around 6am:
I shivered my way around and broke camp pretty fast, I didn’t even take the time to make my coffee. I was ready to hit the road and see what today had in store for me.
Like I was never there:
Giddy up!
So, if you remember, I don’t have much gas. The Bandit has a 5 gallon tank, so in theory, with the 45+ mpg I was getting, I should be able to squeeze 225+ miles out of a tank in a pinch.
So, a quick look at the trip meter tells me I have 70mi on the tank before I ever leave, no problem, right?
It was an absolutely beautiful, if a little chilly, morning heading out. The views from the NF roads were spectacular:
In this one you can see the road surface I’ve been riding on so far, nothing terrible, just loose gravel:
Saw this guy along the road, think he was surprised there was somebody way up here so early:
I get to the fork in the road from where I came from the previous day. I’m at around 85mi on my tank of gas, and I know it’s another 50mi to Carlsbad, but it’s way out of the way and would add close to 100 miles to my total for the day…. So I take the shortcut up FR-67 that the forest ranger had recommended the day before.
IIRC, the way he put it was, “I wouldn’t drive a Cadillac up it, but it’s no problem in my old forest service truck, and it shouldn’t be any problem on a motorcycle.”
I think he must’ve thought I was riding a BMW GS or a KLR or something…
I made it about 15 miles down 67, which was already getting pretty bad, and saw these signs:
Uh oh. The road was already bad, if it got so much worse that they posted additional warning signs… couldn’t be good.
But hey, this is an adventure right? I sit at a desk for 50 hours a week and bore myself to tears. This has character building all over it… how hard could it be?
Saw some more wildlife along the way:
I was making terrible time. The roads still weren’t
too bad, but I was only moving at about 10mph on average. The biggest thing was the lack of suspension travel on the Bandit. A V-Strom would’ve been in it’s element, but I was beating the **** out of the poor Bandit.
I pulled over pretty often to soak up the view and stretch my legs…
The views were awesome. I remember thinking, “Road still crap? Yep. View still incredible? Yep.”
Around here the road started getting even worse… at this point though, I was absolutely committed. If I had any chance of making it to a gas station, I had to make it this way…
View was still pretty though…
According to my GPS, I was only about 5 miles away from a bigger dashed line, I hoped against all hope that meant pavement….
Nope. The next fork in the road was the worst yet:
Now, that looks bad enough, but let me clarify a few things… I’m on a Bandit. It weighs 500lbs dry, probably closer to 575lbs ready to ride. I’m loaded down with about 150lbs (complete guess…) of gear that isn’t exactly creating a low center of gravity. Did I mention I’m on Michelin Road2 touring tires on 17” rims?
I didn’t mean to pull off the road for that picture… the rocks and loose surface pushed me off the road. I had a heck of a time getting underway again. It was impossible to maintain the track I wanted, the big rocks would force me every way I didn’t want to go…. Needless to say, I didn’t take any more pictures… I was on a mission to get out of that without laying the bike over…
At last, after about 120 miles of dirt and 12 miles of the worst road ever created, the end was near:
PAVEMENT!!!!
I was ecstatic. I had made it down a horrible road on an overloaded street bike…. “Who needs a V-Strom?” I gloated to myself.
It was probably that little bit of bad karma that bit me later, but that’s for another day…
The Bandit was out of there, filthy, but no worse for the wear:
The astute observer will notice I lost my flip flops somewhere along the way today. If you find some Reef sandals on a NF-67, PM me
And not only was I back on pavement, I was back on lovely pavement with zero traffic… awesome:
I rolled into Cloudcroft, NM with all of my low-fuel lights going bananas. I had about 205 miles on that tank, no problem!
Cloudcroft was high. 9,000’ high, I was surprised at that. It was a neat little town, but it was already noon and I’d barely covered 100 miles that day. I didn’t have time to kick around and spend time there if I wanted to make it to AZ that day.
So off I went, down some great roads and came up on this tunnel going right through the mountain:
And right on the other side of the tunnel I was awarded with quite a view:
About 10 miles out of Cloudcroft, you come out of elevation, quickly. I had to stop and shed my way from everything I had down to just my mesh:
Yep, I was back down in the desert, time to make up some ground:
I passed White Sands National Monument, which was neat to see:
As well as the missile range on the way to Las Cruces… which was kind of eerie:
There were signs all along the highway that said they would be flashing if the road was closed due to missile testing…
Glad I missed that.
Before too long, the mountains started to reappear:
Came around the corner and saw this bull:
It wasn’t the first or last bull I passed, which were a bit intimidating. They really stare me down, I didn’t know if they thought I was another bull or what… but I gave them plenty of space.
Getting close to the Apache National Forest the roads started to get better, and the scenery improved ten fold:
An older guy on a red V-Strom pulled over at this overlook and we chatted for a bit. He had lived in the area for 40+ years, but was familiar with Austin and couldn’t fathom why anyone would live there…. I was beginning to agree with him at this point on the trip.
Oh well, better hit the road, still 150+ miles to go and the sun isn’t getting any higher:
It was beginning to look like Colorado here in SE New Mexico, it wasn’t what I expected to see. Hwy 78 was great.
Next thing I knew, state #3 came into view, Arizona!
Right around here I re-entered the Apache NF, and again, the roads got even better:
Not quite the cactus and desert Arizona is known for:
I hit US-191, which would be one of the best roads of the entire trip, and headed North towards Clifton, AZ. My original plan was to make it to Eagar, AZ, but with the slow start I got with the roads in NM, that wasn’t going to happen.
Just outside of Clifton there’s an incredible mining operation:
It was already 7pm, it had been a LONG day. I was more tired than I thought. 191 is a road that demands your attention, and I wasn’t up to it mentally.
I was zipping up the mountain, determined to get as far as I could for the day, when a lapse in concentration had me inches from what would’ve been quite a ride. I wasn't going fast, I just let my mind wander for a second and I ended up teetering along the rocky edge with the loose gravel along the shoulder doing its best to give me a stroke.
I managed to keep the Bandit from careening off the side of the mountain, but I thought my heart was going to jump right out from my chest. I needed to stop for the day, no ifs ands or buts about it.
There are NF campgrounds all along 191, I stopped at the one in Granville, ready to call it quits for the day.
This was the only site I stayed in with a bench and trash receptacles until I got back into Texas, but it was my least favorite. There were quite a few other people camping, the bugs (mosquitoes in particular) were bad, and it was right off the hwy… oh well. Can’t complain about a free campsite, I just got an incredible one the previous night.
Time for some dinner:
Noodles, peas, and canned chicken. Dinner for exhausted riders:
I was making myself a little fire, nothing big, I needed to hit the hay before too long, it was already 9pm, when I heard something rummaging around the trash barrel.
Crap. I hadn’t researched what to do in the case of a bear at all… didn’t think I’d need to at the places I was camping. I stood there, with my camera in one hand, flashlight under my chin, and my folding shovel in my other hand ready to take on the hideous beast:
I could tell that it was small, about 60-70lbs, but I know where a baby bear is, mommy is near.
So there I am, heart racing, the most worthless weapons imaginable ready to fend off a bear if it came to that.
About that time, the guy camping in the site next to me appears and says, “Have you seen that
stray dog that’s walking around?”
I’m sure I looked like quite the idiot ready to fight this poor, stray, pup… but it was dark and I couldn't get a good look at it.
I expressed my relief to the guy, he offered me some marshmallows and beer, but between being half embarrassed and needing some rest, I declined.
I wish I would’ve joined him in retrospect. The thing I enjoy reading and envy the most about other people’s trip reports is their interactions with the people the run across. I think this is what made Kaneman’s report so great, as well as a few others:
Sly:
http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=328587
Mr. Cob:
http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=354338
But oh well, hindsight is 20/20. Can’t do it all on the first trip, gotta save something for next time.
That wrapped up day 2. I fell asleep quick and didn’t wake up all night; it was much more restful than the windy night in New Mexico.
Day 3 takes me to the Grand Canyon, the most difficult and breathtaking chapter of the adventure.
Stay tuned…
trey