tshelfer
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- Joined
- Sep 4, 2009
- Messages
- 13,478
- Reaction score
- 2,847
- Location
- Centennial, CO
- First Name
- Tim
- Last Name
- Shelfer
The Lincoln National Forest is an 8,000-foot plateau - an oasis of pine & aspen trees, and the Sacramento Mountains - completely surrounded by desert, wasteland, sand, and, well, really hot places. When I was a college kid in El Paso, Cloudcroft NM was 90 minutes away and my weekend playground. It was a blast going up there in a zippy little 4-banger car. I've always wanted to go there on a bike; last week, I finally made it.
A couple of notes:
- Many of you are veterans of long bike trips. This is my first long distance trip. I learned a lot.
- All pictures were taken with my Canon ELPH 100 P/S camera. I left my Nikon at home, and I sorely missed it. The pictures are only so-so.
SUNDAY (5/13/2012), I took off right after church & headed for Lubbock, where I spent the night at my sister-in-law's place. It was a surprisingly cool ride. There was plenty of evidence of last year's wildfires - miles of toasted cedar bushes - but all that charcoal made for some beautiful fields of Black-Eyed Susans (sorry, didn't stop for a picture. I made it in with a light rain falling. I put the bike under cover for the night.
MONDAY, I was up early and out at 8am for the 250 mile ride west. There were storm threats all the way, but I got very little of it - just a few rain showers and again, cool running. How often is it cool in Artesia NM in May? I was wearing summer gloves; thankfully I had a pair of silk liners in the trunk.
I set up camp at the James Canyon NF campground, a free campground 2 miles west of Mayhill NM, and 15 miles from Cloudcroft. It's a nice little campground, although there are some burned trees from last year's fires. There's no water in the campground, so I made friends with a convenience store owner in Mayhill - that's the price of free camping.
About the time I got the tent up, the rain hit hard and I was stuck in the tent for the next 4 hours.
It finally cleared out around 5pm, and I rode into Cloudcroft to treat myself to a hot meal and a chance to get my feet dry and warm. The Aspen Motel has a little restaurant with surprisingly good Mexican food.
TUESDAY - The next morning, things looked different. An electric-blue sky and perfect riding weather.
The road toward Cloudcroft is a blast. Heck, they all are around there.
After yesterday's cool-and-damp, I decided I could use a a little hot-and-dry. So I headed down the mountain toward Alamogordo, NM. If you've never been there, you should know that US 82 is locally famous. In 20 miles, you drop 4,000 feet from ponderosa pine to desert flats. And you do it on a fabulously curvy road with lots of vistas. It's a blast on a bike, but you have to ride it twice - the first time is to find out where the Smokies are staked out for the day. Here's the famous Tunnel.
As you drop, White Sands comes into view.
From Alamogordo, I rode west toward the Organ Mountains, close to Las Cruces. Their name comes from their resemblance to the pipes of a church organ. Well, I never thought so, but hey, not my name....
The ocatillo were in bloom.
The VStrom, narcissist that it is, wanted its picture taken.
Me too:
I spotted this on the way back into town. Honestly, do you really need to pay for a tan in Alamogordo???
Heading back up the mountain, I stopped at the old railroad trestle, a local landmark left over from the mining days. When I was a college kid, I always thought it would be cool to ride a dirt bike across it. Well, here was my big moment. I declined.
End of a perfect riding day. I shot this before tucking the VStrom in for the night.
WEDNESDAY - The next day I rode over to Ruidoso. I always loved this road in a fast little car. It's WAY better on a bike. 40 miles of good blacktop, perfect curves, and fabulous scenery. Like this.
Or this.
Then came this shocking warning. New Mexico has cows? Who knew???
Okay, it might actually be an open-grazing warning.
North of Ruidoso there's Bonita Lake, a longtime favorite camping spot for wifey and me. In fact, we'll be heading there in October to try out the new trailer.
Back in Cloudcroft in late afternoon. Where Ruidoso is big and touristy (like Durango), Cloudcroft has been kept small. Only one grocery store, three or four tourist stores, a hardware store, and half a dozen homey and good restaurants.
At the end of another day, I indulged in a cup of Folgers as the sun set.
THURSDAY - The next morning, this big fellow trotted down the hill, through my campsite, stood in the road and flustered traffic, then finally across the street. And again. And again. Turkeys are brazen. They're also stupid.
Today, I rode the Sunspot Highway. It is 35 miles of fabulously smooth pavement, perfectly arcing curves, beautiful vistas, and fabulous forest. And a few other surprises. Here's just a sample of the road, but it doesn't do it justice. This road is probably the most fun I've ever had on two wheels.
Along the road, here's another view of White Sands, 4,000 feet below.
I tried a side trip on Karr Canyon Road, one of the places I had considered camping. I'm glad I didn't. It's way rougher than this picture shows. I gave up after a mile & turned my Strom around before I dumped it and scratched my lovely red tupperware.
Then I ran across this sign.
And this one. I checked my map and my GPS. Hmm.....
Okay. Well, I'm not lost after all.
Aha! Welcome to the Sunspot Observatory.
They have several telescopes up there. Like this big one.
And this Really big one.
And this Really Freakin' Big Humongous one. (Note: having some tech issues with Photobucket, & the image is not appearing)
You could actually go inside this one and walk around. There were two astronomers at work, and they ignored you as long as you stayed out of their way. It was near pitch black inside. I decided they wouldn't appreciate a flash picture, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
At the bottom of the hill and the end of the pavement, there's the town of Timberon. This is pretty much it.
And at the Timberon Mall, today's lunch special was:
Heading back up, I somehow got a couple of local goobers on my tail, and giving me a bit of a time. I sped up and put some distance between us. They came after me so hard they were veering their car all over both lanes. They caught up and were playing let's-scare-the-motorcyclist-and-maybe-kill-him. Where's a Harley gang when you need them! I didn't have a brick to throw through their windshield, so I gassed it and went screaming back up the road at stupid scary speed. Honestly, I've never ridden curves like that before, and frankly didn't know I could. Actually, it was an incredible rush. And back at the top, I pulled over at a vista where some other tourists were parked - and shook with adrenaline. Dang, after the fact, I was scared half to death. I don't ride that way, and probably won't again. But when Goober and Gomer caught up, they went on by.
FRIDAY - Time to start home. The VStrom is locked and loaded.
But first, I took County 130, a different road from Mayhill to Cloudcroft. It's a slow road - 35mph - with some nasty curves. One nearly caught me at only 20mph. But it was nice last ride before heading east.
Surprisingly, the first 50 miles from Cloudcroft to Artesia is a fun rider's road, even once you're back at desert level. Today, however, there was a nasty 20mph wind was making it impossible to maintain a steady speed as the road curved and wound through the rocks. As a result, the bike's speed would suddenly shoot up as I came around a curve. And eventually, I came around a curve and found myself staring into a radar gun. A NM state trooper, a grizzled old cuss who reminded me of my drill sergeant, nailed me for 66 in a 55mph zone. Worse yet, he said, "Take a look at your license plate, son." Oh ****!
I paid for that darned sticker, but apparently forgot to put it on. But he was feeling merciful because he had just nailed a guy in a Charger doing 115, so I guess he'd bagged his limit. And he told me, "I know how it is. I ride one, too." I asked, "What kind." His response: "A Harley, of course." Of course. Like I'd argue? I got off with a handslap and obeyed the double nickel. It was hard, because that part of New Mexico has a lot of 55mph territory that looks like this:
I'm sure it brings them a lot of revenue.
I made it to Lubbock for the evening, but not before the temperature shot up and nearly baked me alive. The last 100 miles wasn't much fun.
SATURDAY - Headed for home today. I got up early to beat the heat, and was rolling out of Lubbock before 7am. But first, I needed to stop and visit the grave of my brother, who died suddenly just under two years ago. He was 61, and had just retired from teaching a few weeks earlier.
Next to God and family, Steve loved nothing as much as coaching and football. He was passionate about Texas high school football and could tell you who the backup quarterback was in Hereford in 1975. So it was strangely fitting that he's buried literally in the shadow of a high school stadium. For the rest of my life, the cheer of a high school crowd on a crisp autumn evening will give me a lump in my throat.
But time to get home now. As I pulled out and turned east, I found myself looking at the sun rising behind the west Texas fields. And appropriately, right at that moment, the tune that popped onto my MP3 player was the Eagles' "Peaceful, Easy Feeling." And it was.
The ride home was chilly. I was shivering until 10am, with a fleece under my riding jacket. The wind was nasty, and beat me every which way but loose all the way home. I am wind whipped, wind burnt, and wind weary. There were a few uncommonly scary gusts - crossing the Possum Kingdom Lake bridge was a bit like being on the business end of a kite.
And one Very Scary Moment in the traffic circle in downtown Weatherford. As my light turned green, I started forward - along with everybody else in the two lanes. Suddenly a pickup truck to my left, who had stopped for the red light, started forward and drove straight across the traffic circle. The car to my left slammed on her brakes and I was exposed as this idiot came right at me. Leaning on the horn and steering to the right, I couldn't get out of his way. He finally stopped about a foot short of mowing me down. Again I ask, where's a Harley gang when you need them? Where's that cop?
Home at 1pm.
Gas mileage varied, as expected. Texas riding, with a fully loaded bike, was in the low 40s mostly. But coming home from New Mexico, I averaged 55mpg from Cloudcroft to Lubbock. And with an empty bike, I got high 50s and one tank of 62mpg (!!!).
Only a couple of animal encounters. One mule deer was standing by the road watching me, and I just had this feeling. He leaped in front of me at the last second, then chickened and spun around. But I was already on the brakes, so no problem. Also, a turkey ran in front of me as I made my stupidly fast ascent of the Sunspot Highway. Not sure which of us was scareder.
A few observations:
- Texas is bigger on a bike than it is in a car. Maybe next time, I'll trailer the Suzi at least as far as Lubbock.
- Turkeys are really stupid.
- My Nikon D60 is cumbersome, but worth carrying. Next time I'll find room.
- Check the oil. Check the brakes. And check the tag on your plate.
- Camping is a lot more fun with a buddy.
- I need thicker socks for sleeping at altitude in May.
- I stopped in both directions at the Phillips 66 station in Snider, at the corner of 84 and 180. Both tanks turned in just under 38mpg each, decidedly lower than any other parts of the trip. I question the integrity of their pumps.
- The VStrom ran flawlessly, and sailed effortlessly up 9,000 foot passes. My thanks to DFW_Warrior for helping me prep the bike.
- Once again, being honest and polite to cops pays off.
If you made it this far, thanks for reading. You long distance vets can laugh a bit, and tell me how to do it better next time.
A couple of notes:
- Many of you are veterans of long bike trips. This is my first long distance trip. I learned a lot.
- All pictures were taken with my Canon ELPH 100 P/S camera. I left my Nikon at home, and I sorely missed it. The pictures are only so-so.
SUNDAY (5/13/2012), I took off right after church & headed for Lubbock, where I spent the night at my sister-in-law's place. It was a surprisingly cool ride. There was plenty of evidence of last year's wildfires - miles of toasted cedar bushes - but all that charcoal made for some beautiful fields of Black-Eyed Susans (sorry, didn't stop for a picture. I made it in with a light rain falling. I put the bike under cover for the night.
MONDAY, I was up early and out at 8am for the 250 mile ride west. There were storm threats all the way, but I got very little of it - just a few rain showers and again, cool running. How often is it cool in Artesia NM in May? I was wearing summer gloves; thankfully I had a pair of silk liners in the trunk.
I set up camp at the James Canyon NF campground, a free campground 2 miles west of Mayhill NM, and 15 miles from Cloudcroft. It's a nice little campground, although there are some burned trees from last year's fires. There's no water in the campground, so I made friends with a convenience store owner in Mayhill - that's the price of free camping.
About the time I got the tent up, the rain hit hard and I was stuck in the tent for the next 4 hours.
It finally cleared out around 5pm, and I rode into Cloudcroft to treat myself to a hot meal and a chance to get my feet dry and warm. The Aspen Motel has a little restaurant with surprisingly good Mexican food.
TUESDAY - The next morning, things looked different. An electric-blue sky and perfect riding weather.
The road toward Cloudcroft is a blast. Heck, they all are around there.
After yesterday's cool-and-damp, I decided I could use a a little hot-and-dry. So I headed down the mountain toward Alamogordo, NM. If you've never been there, you should know that US 82 is locally famous. In 20 miles, you drop 4,000 feet from ponderosa pine to desert flats. And you do it on a fabulously curvy road with lots of vistas. It's a blast on a bike, but you have to ride it twice - the first time is to find out where the Smokies are staked out for the day. Here's the famous Tunnel.
As you drop, White Sands comes into view.
From Alamogordo, I rode west toward the Organ Mountains, close to Las Cruces. Their name comes from their resemblance to the pipes of a church organ. Well, I never thought so, but hey, not my name....
The ocatillo were in bloom.
The VStrom, narcissist that it is, wanted its picture taken.
Me too:
I spotted this on the way back into town. Honestly, do you really need to pay for a tan in Alamogordo???
Heading back up the mountain, I stopped at the old railroad trestle, a local landmark left over from the mining days. When I was a college kid, I always thought it would be cool to ride a dirt bike across it. Well, here was my big moment. I declined.
End of a perfect riding day. I shot this before tucking the VStrom in for the night.
WEDNESDAY - The next day I rode over to Ruidoso. I always loved this road in a fast little car. It's WAY better on a bike. 40 miles of good blacktop, perfect curves, and fabulous scenery. Like this.
Or this.
Then came this shocking warning. New Mexico has cows? Who knew???
Okay, it might actually be an open-grazing warning.
North of Ruidoso there's Bonita Lake, a longtime favorite camping spot for wifey and me. In fact, we'll be heading there in October to try out the new trailer.
Back in Cloudcroft in late afternoon. Where Ruidoso is big and touristy (like Durango), Cloudcroft has been kept small. Only one grocery store, three or four tourist stores, a hardware store, and half a dozen homey and good restaurants.
At the end of another day, I indulged in a cup of Folgers as the sun set.
THURSDAY - The next morning, this big fellow trotted down the hill, through my campsite, stood in the road and flustered traffic, then finally across the street. And again. And again. Turkeys are brazen. They're also stupid.
Today, I rode the Sunspot Highway. It is 35 miles of fabulously smooth pavement, perfectly arcing curves, beautiful vistas, and fabulous forest. And a few other surprises. Here's just a sample of the road, but it doesn't do it justice. This road is probably the most fun I've ever had on two wheels.
Along the road, here's another view of White Sands, 4,000 feet below.
I tried a side trip on Karr Canyon Road, one of the places I had considered camping. I'm glad I didn't. It's way rougher than this picture shows. I gave up after a mile & turned my Strom around before I dumped it and scratched my lovely red tupperware.
Then I ran across this sign.
And this one. I checked my map and my GPS. Hmm.....
Okay. Well, I'm not lost after all.
Aha! Welcome to the Sunspot Observatory.
They have several telescopes up there. Like this big one.
And this Really big one.
And this Really Freakin' Big Humongous one. (Note: having some tech issues with Photobucket, & the image is not appearing)
You could actually go inside this one and walk around. There were two astronomers at work, and they ignored you as long as you stayed out of their way. It was near pitch black inside. I decided they wouldn't appreciate a flash picture, so you'll just have to take my word for it.
At the bottom of the hill and the end of the pavement, there's the town of Timberon. This is pretty much it.
And at the Timberon Mall, today's lunch special was:
Heading back up, I somehow got a couple of local goobers on my tail, and giving me a bit of a time. I sped up and put some distance between us. They came after me so hard they were veering their car all over both lanes. They caught up and were playing let's-scare-the-motorcyclist-and-maybe-kill-him. Where's a Harley gang when you need them! I didn't have a brick to throw through their windshield, so I gassed it and went screaming back up the road at stupid scary speed. Honestly, I've never ridden curves like that before, and frankly didn't know I could. Actually, it was an incredible rush. And back at the top, I pulled over at a vista where some other tourists were parked - and shook with adrenaline. Dang, after the fact, I was scared half to death. I don't ride that way, and probably won't again. But when Goober and Gomer caught up, they went on by.
FRIDAY - Time to start home. The VStrom is locked and loaded.
But first, I took County 130, a different road from Mayhill to Cloudcroft. It's a slow road - 35mph - with some nasty curves. One nearly caught me at only 20mph. But it was nice last ride before heading east.
Surprisingly, the first 50 miles from Cloudcroft to Artesia is a fun rider's road, even once you're back at desert level. Today, however, there was a nasty 20mph wind was making it impossible to maintain a steady speed as the road curved and wound through the rocks. As a result, the bike's speed would suddenly shoot up as I came around a curve. And eventually, I came around a curve and found myself staring into a radar gun. A NM state trooper, a grizzled old cuss who reminded me of my drill sergeant, nailed me for 66 in a 55mph zone. Worse yet, he said, "Take a look at your license plate, son." Oh ****!
I paid for that darned sticker, but apparently forgot to put it on. But he was feeling merciful because he had just nailed a guy in a Charger doing 115, so I guess he'd bagged his limit. And he told me, "I know how it is. I ride one, too." I asked, "What kind." His response: "A Harley, of course." Of course. Like I'd argue? I got off with a handslap and obeyed the double nickel. It was hard, because that part of New Mexico has a lot of 55mph territory that looks like this:
I'm sure it brings them a lot of revenue.
I made it to Lubbock for the evening, but not before the temperature shot up and nearly baked me alive. The last 100 miles wasn't much fun.
SATURDAY - Headed for home today. I got up early to beat the heat, and was rolling out of Lubbock before 7am. But first, I needed to stop and visit the grave of my brother, who died suddenly just under two years ago. He was 61, and had just retired from teaching a few weeks earlier.
Next to God and family, Steve loved nothing as much as coaching and football. He was passionate about Texas high school football and could tell you who the backup quarterback was in Hereford in 1975. So it was strangely fitting that he's buried literally in the shadow of a high school stadium. For the rest of my life, the cheer of a high school crowd on a crisp autumn evening will give me a lump in my throat.
But time to get home now. As I pulled out and turned east, I found myself looking at the sun rising behind the west Texas fields. And appropriately, right at that moment, the tune that popped onto my MP3 player was the Eagles' "Peaceful, Easy Feeling." And it was.
The ride home was chilly. I was shivering until 10am, with a fleece under my riding jacket. The wind was nasty, and beat me every which way but loose all the way home. I am wind whipped, wind burnt, and wind weary. There were a few uncommonly scary gusts - crossing the Possum Kingdom Lake bridge was a bit like being on the business end of a kite.
And one Very Scary Moment in the traffic circle in downtown Weatherford. As my light turned green, I started forward - along with everybody else in the two lanes. Suddenly a pickup truck to my left, who had stopped for the red light, started forward and drove straight across the traffic circle. The car to my left slammed on her brakes and I was exposed as this idiot came right at me. Leaning on the horn and steering to the right, I couldn't get out of his way. He finally stopped about a foot short of mowing me down. Again I ask, where's a Harley gang when you need them? Where's that cop?
Home at 1pm.
Gas mileage varied, as expected. Texas riding, with a fully loaded bike, was in the low 40s mostly. But coming home from New Mexico, I averaged 55mpg from Cloudcroft to Lubbock. And with an empty bike, I got high 50s and one tank of 62mpg (!!!).
Only a couple of animal encounters. One mule deer was standing by the road watching me, and I just had this feeling. He leaped in front of me at the last second, then chickened and spun around. But I was already on the brakes, so no problem. Also, a turkey ran in front of me as I made my stupidly fast ascent of the Sunspot Highway. Not sure which of us was scareder.
A few observations:
- Texas is bigger on a bike than it is in a car. Maybe next time, I'll trailer the Suzi at least as far as Lubbock.
- Turkeys are really stupid.
- My Nikon D60 is cumbersome, but worth carrying. Next time I'll find room.
- Check the oil. Check the brakes. And check the tag on your plate.
- Camping is a lot more fun with a buddy.
- I need thicker socks for sleeping at altitude in May.
- I stopped in both directions at the Phillips 66 station in Snider, at the corner of 84 and 180. Both tanks turned in just under 38mpg each, decidedly lower than any other parts of the trip. I question the integrity of their pumps.
- The VStrom ran flawlessly, and sailed effortlessly up 9,000 foot passes. My thanks to DFW_Warrior for helping me prep the bike.
- Once again, being honest and polite to cops pays off.
If you made it this far, thanks for reading. You long distance vets can laugh a bit, and tell me how to do it better next time.
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