Passes & Canyons Blog

I’m the guy planning the OFMC ride these days and last week I sent out the route along with assignments as to who reserves motels in what town. It will definitely be the remaining three of us again this year, me and Bill and Dennis, plus we may have one or two others. We started at three, then ballooned to about 10 or 11, and have now shrunk back to three as guys hang up their helmets.

The two possibles include Bruce, who joined us for the first time last year, and Kevin, an old friend who it occurred to me that I ought to call. Neither of them can say for sure at this point but either or both may come along.

At Dennis’s suggestion, this year we will at least attempt to do the rest of the trip that got altered significantly a few years ago when Dennis inadvertently put diesel in his tank. We were headed for Missoula, Montana, that day, with intent of going over Lolo Pass. With fortune on our side we ought to get there this time.

We’ll be starting out this time headed for Meeker. We’ll take US 40 up to Craig and then CO 13 down to Meeker. If Kevin joins us he’ll probably meet us there; he lives in Gunnison.

Day two will be out of Colorado into Utah, north past the Flaming Gorge Reservoir, and into Wyoming to Kemmerer. Our first stay in Kemmerer many years ago was memorable because we eventually realized that several of the rooms just down from ours were gutted and had no roofs. Apparently there had been a fire. We probably won’t be staying at that motel this time. If Bruce joins us he’ll probably join us in Kemmerer, having made our two-day ride into a longish one-day ride.

From Kemmerer we’ll continue north through the Star Valley and then into Idaho. We’ll pass through Idaho Falls and go on to Arco, another town with some amusing memories from long ago. But I won’t go into that here; that’s a great candidate for my Tales of the OFMC series.

The next day we’ll run up from Arco, through Challis, to Missoula. I know this is a really nice ride so I’m looking forward to it. We’ll spend the night in Missoula and the next day double back just a few miles to the turn-off to Lolo Pass. This is actually a ride that Kevin and I did several years ago, along with his buddy Jeff. Those guys are pretty spontaneous so I was amused when we suddenly stopped and they both stripped naked and jumped in the river. It was a hot day, you know?

We’ll take US 12 down to Kooskia, then head south on ID 13 to Grangeville and there pick up US 95. At New Meadows we’ll get off onto ID 55 to Cascade, our stop for the night. This stretch will be the only new highway for us on this trip and it looks like it could be spectacular. I’ll let you know.

From Cascade we’ll head south to Boise and there we have little choice but to get on I-84. We’ll take that all the way down to Twin Falls and there turn south for our regular gambling/golf stop in Jackpot, Nevada. Along the way we’ll pass through Mountain Home, which is where Kevin’s buddy Jeff now lives, so we may lose Kevin there, presuming he’s with us in the first place. If Bruce is with us we’ll definitely lose him in Jackpot because while we stay there two nights, he will ride on after one night to get home as quickly as possible.

The big slog of the trip will come when we leave Jackpot, running south on US 93 to Wells, Nevada, and then east on I-80 to Wendover, across the salt flats to Salt Lake City, and then down to our destination that day, Spanish Fork.

Leaving Spanish Fork in the morning we’ll be on US 6 and then US 191 down to I-70 at Green River, Utah, where we’ll take the super slab to Grand Junction for our final night. The next day we’ll head home, presumably on I-70.

Should be a good trip. It will be a couple more days than usual because that is necessary if you’re going to get to Lolo Pass and not also do several long days. If there is one thing the OFMC does not like these days it is long days.

Biker Quote for Today

It is the unknown around the corner that turns my wheels.

By the time John and Bill and I, collectively the OFMC, were getting ready for our third annual trip we had concluded it would be nice to communicate while riding. Up to this point we had depended on hand signals but that meant you had to ride up alongside someone and then make the appropriate motion. Workable but not optimal.

Back in those days we didn’t have a lot of money, which was a big part of the reason we did these trips as much on the cheap as we could. We knew you could get in-helmet communication systems but they were expensive.

I think I was the one who got the idea to check out these inexpensive communicators from Radio Shack. We all three met up one day at a Radio Shack in Lakewood and inquired about these things. What they were was just a chunk of hardware connected by a cord to an ear plug. You put the ear plug in place and just talk and the sound moves through your head via the bone and is picked up and transmitted. Obviously, the speaker is in the earpiece.

We each put an earpiece in our ears and then we walked around, and Bill even went outside to the parking lot. We could hear each other fine, so we figured this would do the job. Great. Pay for them and we’re set. Did we try them out on our bikes before the trip? No. That would have made too much sense.

Our departure on this trip was complicated by the fact that a shop I took my bike to for some pre-trip work totally screwed me over. I’m sure I’ve told that story here before and it’s too long to get into now so suffice it to say, they did not have my bike ready by the departure date. So Bill and John took off without me, with an understanding that I would meet them at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in a few days.

Meanwhile, they took off with their earpieces in and expected to chat as they rode. Sorry, no dice.

What I only came to learn some time later is that radio signals are affected by motion, and the more speed the more they are affected. It turns out that these little cheapos work just fine if you’re walking but on a motorcycle going 65 miles an hour they totally fail. They tried using them that first day, found them worthless, and put them away never to pull them out again. Of course, I didn’t know that. This was well before the days of cell phones.

So I finally got my bike from the shop and I took off, doing some hard riding to reach the Grand Canyon in two days. I had no problem finding the campground but found that I had no way to find them in the campground. I thought they might have left a message for me at the gate, and they had, but I didn’t notice it. I asked the ranger at the gate and he knew nothing but just at that moment a ranger just getting off duty overheard and knew about them and told me where to find their camp site. No problem.

I found their camp site but they weren’t there. All this time I had the earpiece for the communicator in and the unit turned on and I was calling out for them but getting no answer. I was certain they would be listening and waiting for me but no answer. So I set up my tent and went to find them. I rode down to the main parking lot by the lodge, calling for them again and again. Still no answer.

It later turned out that they were there, but somehow I did not spot their bikes. Trying to guess where they had gone I set off on a lengthy wild goose chase that itself is a whole other story. Eventually I just went back to the camp site and by then they were there. They had been back a while before they noticed a new tent in their site so now they had been wondering where the heck I was.

After what I had just been through I was overjoyed to finally find them, and seeing a beer in John’s hand I cried “Give me a beer!” He told me apologetically that this was the last one and I took it from his hand and downed it. And then I asked them why the heck they didn’t respond to me on the communicators. They laughed and told me how worthless those proved to be and it never occurred to them to pull them out to help me find them when I arrived. Actually, they might have done the job in that situation if they had used them. But they didn’t.

That was the last time the OFMC ever seriously considered communicators. Some years later Judy and I got communicators and I specifically got some that would work between bikes in case one of the other guys decided to get a set, too, so we could communicate on rides. But no one else ever was sufficiently interested, so to this day the OFMC operates without communicators. Nowadays, though, we do finally all have cell phones so while not the same, they do the job when needed.

Biker Quote for Today

It’s not a gang. It’s a loose association of rugged outdoorsmen who like vibrations between their legs.

We got up, ate, and then it was time to ride down that loose gravel to get out of the RV park to the highway. Dennis went first and I followed and neither of us did try standing up on the pegs as we had considered the day before but neither of us had any problems and we made it down to firm ground uneventfully. Whew!

I led and we headed for Creede. I hadn’t gone more than a mile or so when it became clear I did not dress nearly warm enough. It was cold! So in Creede we made our first stop. Then we headed on up Spring Creek Pass. People were already needing to offload some coffee so near the top of the pass when I saw a pull-out we used it. It turned out to be a spot with a beautiful view down a nearby valley. (See the photo to right.)

There were a lot of aspen turning gold and it was a beautiful sunny day so who could ask for better. We rode on over Slumgullion Pass and on into Lake City. I had asked if anyone needed gas in Lake City and no one figured they did so we rode on through. Exiting the town there was a sign saying how far it was to Gunnison and I had to wonder and then as I rode further and saw there was no one behind me I knew what had happened. I turned back and found the gas station they had gone back to. Not a problem. We have plenty of time and it’s just wonderful to be outside on this kind of day.

Then on to Gunnison where we stopped for lunch. We considered going over Cottonwood Pass but that would have taken longer and we were all starting to feel the way horses feel when they know they’re headed for the stable. So we took Monarch.

Unlike the day before on Wolf Creek Pass, everyone felt like running up this pass so we had a spirited ride to the top and over and down. But Bill, who was leading, wasn’t done. He kept up the fast clip all the way to Fairplay, at which point we were all hoping for him to stop because by then we needed another pit stop. Bill did, too, and we stopped.

This was where we said our good-byes. We all made a point to tell Bruce we were pleased he had come with us and that he was welcome to come again next time. Bruce seemed amenable to that proposition.

We headed out on US 285 and Dennis, as usual, peeled off at the exit past Conifer that runs down past Tiny Town, headed to his place over in Deer Creek Canyon. Bill and Bruce and I continued on 285 to where it hits C-470 and Bill went north, Bruce went south, and I stayed on 285 east to home. What a good year’s ride we just had!

Biker Quote for Today

To me, it doesn’t matter whether it’s raining or the sun is shining or whatever: as long as I’m riding a motorcycle, I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.

Sure enough, by morning Bill’s tire with the newly installed inner tube was flat. What the heck?

Preparing to hook up the little pump Bruce noticed that he could tighten the core in the valve stem in that tube just a tiny bit. Was that enough that it had leaked? Bill wasn’t going to test that by just riding on. We were in Farmington and there is a Harley dealer there, so with enough air to easily go five miles that was where we headed.

Long story short, Bill ended up paying about $2,000 for a new tire and wheel. Ouch. But now we could ride on confident that there should be no further problems.

We headed northeast on NM516 to Aztec and then took US 550 north. We really didn’t want to take 550 all the way up to US 160 and then go east on 160 because that’s a busy highway and we had been on it many times. Was there an alternative?

We looked at the map and saw that just a little ways into Colorado there was a road, CR110, that went east to Ignacio. And best of all, we had never been on this road. Great. Now we just had to find it. It’s not very well marked. We did find it, though, and it was a really nice road winding through some hills and some rolling ranch land. Time for lunch in Ignacio.

From Ignacio we took CO151 as it loops south and then north again, finally joining US 160 a little west of Pagosa Springs. Leaving Pagosa behind us we headed up Wolf Creek Pass. Dennis was leading, followed by Bill, then me, then Bruce.

One thing you have to understand about Bill is that he very much likes to set his cruise control and just let it go. Sometimes this means he’ll pull up on you and very slowly slip by. Other times it means he drops further and further back. This time he was dropping back. Meanwhile, I kind of wanted to run on up this very nice pass. So after a bit I blasted on past him.

But Dennis really wasn’t running up the pass either. And I felt like running. So I blew past him and really cranked it up. Pretty soon I saw that Bruce had also passed both of them and was enjoying a hot ride up, too. Fun. Eventually they both picked up speed and closed the gap a bit.

We came on down to South Fork and made the left turn off US 160 onto CO149 that runs through Creede and up over Slumgullion and Spring Creek Passes, to Lake City. But we weren’t going that far today, we were just headed to a campground and cabins between South Fork and Creede, Blue Creek Lodge and RV Park.

We were looking forward to our night here because I had received a call during the week telling me they had moved us from a smaller cabin to a full bunkhouse where we would each have our own room with private bath and a common area for meals and anything else. No extra charge. Cool. What we did not count on was that the road through the RV park was gravel and our bunkhouse was as far up this loose gravel as it is possible to go. I was on my Concours, which hates gravel, and Bill and Dennis are none too comfortable on gravel any time. Bruce, with his long legs as outriggers, is fine with that stuff.

The route winding through the RV park was also not really clear so I took a wrong turn at one point and we had to double back. Making the sharp right turn this necessitated I came just a hair’s breadth from dropping the bike. It was close, and then, fighting to keep it up, I had gotten too close to a cabin and had to roll back. That was less than fun on this loose stuff as well.

Dennis and Bruce and I finally made it to the top. Bill decided he would park at a lower level and just carry his stuff up to the cabin. It was clear that neither Dennis or I would be riding back down that road until we were leaving. But the lodge’s restaurant is not in operation so we had to do something to get dinner. So Bruce and Bill went back down and headed toward Creede to find some food to bring back. Meanwhile Dennis and I shuttled our bikes around to make it as easy as possible to get out the next morning.

We also noticed that heading down Bruce had stood up on his pegs. Dennis wondered aloud about that and I explained to him that standing on the pegs lowers you center of gravity from the seat to the pegs. We both figured maybe we’d try that in the morning.

Meanwhile, it was darn chilly and we had all turned the heat on in our rooms but nothing seemed to be happening. So we cranked them all the way up. Still nothing.

They guys got back with food, we ate and then had a good time sitting around shooting the bull. Then we headed to bed but the day wasn’t over. Each one of us, during the night, woke up to find that our heaters really do work and our rooms were broiling. I also went to the common area and turned that heater down so it wouldn’t be an oven in the morning. Now sleep.

Biker Quote for Today

Food, oxygen, love, sex, and motorcycles. Am I forgetting something?

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.

I dropped the Concours and busted the left mirror when we were in Angel Fire so I’ve been looking to get that fixed.

I checked online and a replacement is available from about $95 to $150, depending on if its new or used and who you buy it from. I wondered if I could get a better price from a salvage yard. Time to check with Steele’s. They have a website and on the site they tell you you can send them a message asking if they have what you need. I tried that but after no reply over a week I just got on the CB750 and rode on over there.

First I checked in at the front desk and the guy checked in their computer to see if they had one listed in there. No. So he told me I could go look around the yard myself. He told me not to just take something off one of the wrecks, but to shoot a photo and come back to them and they’d decide who should do what.

I don’t know if you’ve ever walked around in a motorcycle salvage yard but it’s kind of like a fantasy land. In fact, after I’d looked at what they had out front and didn’t find anything I was about to leave when another employee asked me if I’d checked in. Yes I had, but I didn’t find anything. Oh, there’s more, he said. It goes all the way around the building. “Have fun.” So I went and looked further.

I did find three Concourses but they were all in almost totally stripped-down shape. No mirrors, except on one. And these were not the stock mirrors, they were clearly aftermarket. This suggested to me that busting a mirror was not all that uncommon, and some people opted not to replace with stock.

Around back I found shopping cart after shopping cart filled with assorted side panels. Many years ago I did lose one side panel off my Honda but I found a replacement. Still, it is from a different year so it doesn’t actually match, even though it fits. I figured if I came across the real thing I would at least ask what they wanted for it. No dice. Lots and lots of side panels but not the one I want.

Different parts of the yard were devoted to different things. In one section there were lots and lots of wheels. There were great numbers of stripped frames. And there were all kinds of bikes in all kinds of condition just in pieces everywhere you looked.

There were also the proverbial junkyard dogs, although during business hours I guess these guys are friendly enough. They were rough-housing so hard and so obliviously that twice they crashed right into me as they chased each other around, having a ball.

I didn’t find anything. I’ll have to get something online. But it was worth the run over there.

Biker Quote for Today

Why motorcycles are better than women: If your motorcycle doesn’t look good, you can paint it or get better parts.

On our second day of the OFMC trip we were looking at a short ride, just 96 miles south on US 285 from Alamosa to Espanola, New Mexico. That was just not going to happen.

So we headed east on US 160 to Fort Garland and then turned south on CO159. Besides being more scenic, it was a much less busy road and it led us down to even more good riding. I had suggested we go down to Questa, in New Mexico, on what became NM522 when we crossed the state line, and then go east around the mountain to Red River, Eagle Nest, Angel Fire, and west to pick up the High Road to Taos, which goes to Espanola. That was a bit more riding than Bill wanted so we nixed that but did continue on 522 to Taos, where we intended to catch the High Road.

But things got interesting before that happened. Looking at the map I saw that if we took a right turn onto US 64 where it intersects 522, and then very quickly take a left onto what I now see listed as Blueberry Hill Road, we could bypass Taos entirely. We’ve been to Taos plenty of times and we know the traffic it entails. Plus, there were signs warning of road construction in Taos, so all the more reason to bypass.

And Blueberry Hill Road was really nice. It follows the ridge line through a very pretty area and at the southern end ties into NM240, which continues on down to NM68. Sweet road. Terrific to completely avoid Taos.

At NM68 I was set to go left when Dennis pulled up next to me and told me his GPS said go right to get to Espanola. Because of some unexpected turns in the road I was not totally sure of our location so I figured to trust his GPS. It turned out this road did indeed go to Espanola but it was not the High Road.

What it was was a road we had never ridden before. So with Blueberry Hill Road this was two new roads for us in one day. And it was a nice road, too. It runs through a gorge on the Rio Grande much of the way and then the terrain opens out into a valley with a lot of wineries. And then it does get down to Espanola and is considerably shorter than the High Road.

We still got into Espanola way too early and had to wait about three hours before we could even check into our hotel. Imagine if we’d gone straight down US 285! But now we were set for the next three days because this was our customary gambling and golf stop that we always make on this trip.

Biker Quote for Today

You might be a Yuppie biker if your leathers still have creases.