Passes & Canyons Blog

I tried to find a used mirror at Steele’s–with no luck–and when I looked on the Concours Owners Group forum to see if anyone was parting a bike out I found one note that said “don’t waste everyone’s time asking for a used mirror, just buy one from Murph’s.” So I did.

By the time the new mirror arrived I had pretty well figured out what I needed to do. First I needed to remove the windshield, which was easily accomplished by removing the screws along its base. Easy enough. Then I needed to remove one screw just inside the base of the windshield, which was now reachable because the windshield was off. Then reach in each of the two pockets in the fairing and take out one screw in each spot. Theoretically the dashboard of the fairing then comes off. In reality, that took some jockeying and trial and error. Plus, I was concerned about getting it back on again. But I managed.

Then it was a simple job to undo the two bolts holding the mirror assembly onto the fairing. And it turned out not to be difficult to put it back together. Could it really be this easy?

No. I now had the new mirror on but it would hardly move. That armature within the accordion boot connecting the mirror to the fairing was supposed to allow the mirror to be moved in and out, up and down, and rotated on its axis. It would not do these things. Now what?

With the old mirror off I could now take it apart and see just how it worked and what had broken. There’s a ball and socket and the socket had been snapped. But you’ll also notice the big nut there holding the two together. I reasoned that if that thing was loosened it would allow the joint to move freely. But how do I get to that nut?

Here’s where logic and common sense come into play. To get inside I had had to first disassemble the mirror housing. There is a deep cup and a thin border piece. I slipped a thin screw driver between the two and popped them apart, then popped the mirror itself out. Now I could remove the bolt that attaches the housing to the armature.

The rubber boot was like a bag with the open end at the mirror side and at the fairing side there were just two holes in the bottom of the bag for the attaching bolts. To get inside I had to come from the mirror side. Peeling back the boot gave me access to the big nut.

This was very good. At first I had thought I might need to take the fairing apart again but when I saw all this it meant I would not need to do that. Phew!

So I loosened that nut a bit and tried flexing the armature. Sure enough, it moved the way it is supposed to. Hooray! Then it was just a matter of reassembling the housing. But that didn’t want to work.

The thin border piece that was supposed to snap onto the deep cup would not hold. Close examination showed that what holds those two pieces together are small tabs on the cup side that a lip on the border side is supposed to slip over. When I had popped the border piece off it apparently had not just slipped over the tabs, it had broken many of them off. Dang.

At this point I was ready to just get it done, so I took some small strips of the Gorilla Tape I had used to temporarily fix the broken mirror and used them to hold the two housing pieces together in strategic spots. Kludgey once again but I can live with it. And now I’ve got two functioning mirrors again.

Biker Quote for Today

No therapy in the world can do what burning a tank of gas, chasing the setting sun can do for you.

From Socorro we did not have a long day’s ride ahead so we took our time leaving. This gave me time to go next door to the Ace Hardware and purchase a steel rod and some Gorilla Tape. With some luck and creativity I hoped to jerry-rig my busted left mirror so it would be at least semi-usable.

As it turned out, there was a small opening in the fairing of just the right size in just the right place to insert the rod. I taped it to the fairing and then lined the mirror up and taped it to the rod. It was ugly but at least functional. Plus, the Gorilla Tape is black so that blended better with the black fairing than some grey duct tape would have. Still, the only position I could get it in was too far out, so to see behind me I had to lean way to the left. If someone was passing me, though, I had a good view of them, so that’s a good thing.

We took off, headed west on US 60 for Alpine, Arizona. Along the way the plan was to stop and visit the Very Large Array (VLA), which is an installation of radio-telescopes just to the south of the highway about 50 miles west of Socorro.

Shortly before reaching the VLA there was a rest area and Dennis blazed ahead of me to make sure we stopped. I hadn’t planned to because we would stopping just ahead but what the heck, we’re in no hurry. Right where we parked there was a smashed watermelon on the ground as well as what must have been more than five pounds of totally black, mushy bananas. ??? This was dubbed the watermelon stop.

We spent about 45 minutes here because there was no hurry and the weather was nice and we had good shade. While here Bruce, who was now on his second day riding with the OFMC, asked why we cruised along so slow, generally about five miles per hour below the speed limit. I replied that in this case at least it was because we weren’t going far and there was no hurry so why go fast? He noted that he had never ridden with any group of bikers who didn’t just blast along as fast as reasonable. Welcome to the OFMC.

It was only about five miles from that rest area to the VLA but we had learned while stopped that it was not currently open to the public. Rats. I really wanted to see the place. It has a whole bunch of disks pointing to the skies and what I’ve heard is that you don’t realize the size until you’re up close to them. Then it’s an oh-my-god moment. So it was good that we stopped at the rest area.

Still, there was a view area along the highway where you could view the array from a distance, so we pulled over. It was interesting from afar but I’m sure it was nothing like walking around right there. And by the way, I see on the web that they just reopened to the public on October 1.

Taking off from here we were ready to roll when Bruce got off his bike and removed his helmet. OK, what’s up? Turns out he left his lights on and apparently was needing a new battery, so that was all it took for the battery to die and the bike not to start. Dang. But Bruce had a jump starter in his gear so he dug that out. Then, being on an ST1300, he had to strip off a bunch of the body work to get to the battery to connect the jumper. He did, got it ready, it fired up instantly, and then he had to put it all back together. But we could roll.

In another 20 miles or so we reached Datil, where US 60 goes northwest while NM12 goes southwest. We stopped for lunch and Bruce made sure to park somewhere where he could roll downhill to start if need be.

Bruce had noticed that up ahead on US 60 the road goes through Pie Town, which is a small place known for what its name implies. Did we want to go that way and stop for pie? Plus, the map showed that on past Pie Town to Quemado there was a road heading south that intersects NM12 to put us back on course. This drew a strong yes but then there was bad news: Pie Town shops were closed on this day of the week. Darn. Back to Plan A.

So we took off and as we headed southwest the sky to the north, where we would have been if we had gone to Pie Town, was turning a very nasty shade of purple. We seemed to have dodged a bullet here.

As we rode along and reached NM32, the road coming down from Quemado, I recognized it as where we had turned north after coming the other direction on our last ride down in these parts. From there we retraced our route from that trip until we reached US 180, which we had taken up from Silver City that day. Now, at that intersection, we would be turning north, getting onto a stretch of road we had never ridden before. And we had managed to avoid rain all this way but now we would be heading right into it. Time to suit up.

We had no doubt we were going to get wet but Bruce remarked that it would be typical if we rode through just a bit of rain and then came out into that bit of blue sky we could see between two mountains. We pooh-poohed that idea but he turned out to be absolutely correct. It was raining when we were ready to ride and it quickly turned to a downpour. And then in just a few miles the rain started tapering off and soon there was no rain at all. Typical.

However. In the midst of the downpour, riding on this canyon road, there had been a large rock in the middle of our lane. A big one, maybe eight inches by five by four. Dennis saw it and steered around it. I saw it and steered around it. Bill only saw it at the last moment and did not steer around it. Big crunch. Big jolt. But he stayed up and all seemed well.

We continued up US 180 to Alpine and found our quarters for the night. As we pulled into the parking lot Bill’s bike was acting really squirrelly and by the time he stopped his front tire was completely flat. Double dang.

It didn’t take long to discover that the rock had bent his rim so that the tire couldn’t hold air. How it had managed to last till he rode 20 miles and got to our destination is a total mystery as well as a miracle. But there was no way he was going to be riding out of here.

Our hosts here at Escudilla Mountain Cabins, Greg and Shelly, did what they could to be helpful. Greg inflated the tire and we thought in the morning we could ride on to the next town and get a tube put in the tire. It went flat so quickly though that clearly that would not work. There was a towing service but they could not be there to pick the bike up till noon the next day. Of course the next day was to be the longest ride of our whole trip.

Later Greg suggested that they had a trailer and maybe Shelly would be willing to tow Bill to Eager, the next town. She had left and wouldn’t be back for awhile but he suggested Bill ask her then. When she was back and Bill asked Shelly seemed a bit put out at Greg for suggesting this because the trailer was way up in the hills and getting it and bringing it to Alpine would not exactly be a short, easy trip. Nope, we were going to be waiting for the tow truck the next day.

Biker Quote for Today

You know you’re a biker when you relate more to a dog hanging its head out of a passing car than you do to humans.

After three nights in Espanola the OFMC, now augmented with Bruce, was ready to head out. Once again we weren’t going all that far so I had worked out a more roundabout route that was intended to keep us out of the metro mess of Albuquerque as we headed to Socorro. Going directly down I-25 that would have been only 160 miles. By the time we got there we had ridden about 280 miles.

First off there was no avoiding taking US 285 to Santa Fe and then we at least could avoid that busy town using the NM599 bypass. That brought us to I-25 and here’s where I missed a bet. We could have done a short jog over to NM14 and gone down through towns like Madrid, which is well known as the site of the “Wild Hogs” movie and is a nice route. But no, I had us routed down I-25 to Bernalillo and then east on NM165 so as to run to the east of the Sandia Mountains. Albuquerque is on the west of the hills.

The idea was to take NM165 to the road up to Sandia Crest, a view spot where all of Albuquerque and beyond are laid out below you. The problem was that NM165 is “unpaved and not maintained” from a few miles east of I-25 all the way up to where it meets the Sandia Crest road. We got to where the pavement ended and had to turn back.

That meant we needed to ride down I-25 through Albuquerque and then turn east on I-40 to where we could approach Sandia Crest from the south–a big detour. So we did that and it was exactly the kind of thing you try to avoid but it got us there. We got off I-40 at Tijeras, NM14, and turned north. We then turned west onto NM536 to get up to the crest. Of course, this NM14 is the same one that comes down through Madrid so if I had looked at the map a little harder this could have been our route all along. But oh man, if only NM165 was paved I’m sure we would have loved it. If only I’d known it wasn’t paved.

Sandia Crest is a place you really ought to go. The road is terrific, very twisty and full of great views and then there’s the crest. The signs say the city is a mile below you and yes it is spectacular.

We headed back down and retraced our route to Tijeras and then crossed I-40 to continue south along the eastern side of that next row of hills that run south of the Sandias. This is NM337 and it curves its way up some hills, down through some canyons, and is just generally a very good road to ride. Highly recommended.

NM337 runs a long way down until it hits a T intersection with NM55. We turned west and followed NM55 all the way down to Mountainair, through which US 60 passes. Along the way we felt it wise to stop in Tajique at Ray’s One Stop gas and convenience store for gas. I had intended for us to fill up in Tijeras but there was no gas there. So, as Bill noted, we paid probably the highest price for gas in all of New Mexico at Ray’s just to play it safe.

We made it down to Mountainair and turned west on US 60. This was a pretty nice road for a ways but eventually became an arrow-straight run toward I-25. As we headed that way we could see the sky getting threatening. We needed to reach I-25 and take it just a few miles south to Socorro, but as we got nearer it looked for all the world like Socorro was at that moment getting clobbered in a downpour.

Up ahead it didn’t look a lot better. My thinking at that time was to get to the interstate and take shelter in a gas station. Bruce had other ideas. He looked at that wall of water ahead and pulled off to suit up. Dennis did the same. Bill and I rode on until the drops started falling. We were not going to make it to the highway. Dennis and Bruce caught up with us as we suited up and by the time we were rolling the sky had opened up. We rode through a deluge and when we reached I-25 there was no gas station, no buildings at all. So we pulled over in the underpass beneath the highway.

After a while the guys were thinking that it was time to ride. I thought they were a bit premature but didn’t say anything and we took off. They were right. The rain was barely coming down and soon stopped entirely. Then it was just a few miles to Socorro and we found our motel for the night. A long day but a good day.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if you don’t ride in the rain.