I Thought This Was Prairie
The OFMC heads into New Mexico.
The OFMC spent the second night of our trip in La Junta, out of the prairie of eastern Colorado but if you think it’s all just flat or rolling grassland you would be wrong. We headed south out of town on CO 109 passing through Commanche National Grassland. Far from flat, this is beautiful country with wide valleys and high tablelands between the valleys. Judy and I had seen this country before when we came down to hike through Picket Wire Canyon, down to the Purgatory River, to where dinosaur footprints remain visible in the rock. It’s absolutely gorgeous.
And it is this same country that we rode south through, including crossing the Purgatory.
When we got south a ways we hit US 160 and turned west. This road runs to Trinidad but we were intending to turn south again into New Mexico, to Capulin Volcano National Monument. So there we were riding along and after awhile we had these beautiful wooded mesas on our left. This is prairie? I kept waiting to see a road because I really wanted to ride up into that extremely inviting terrain. Sadly, it didn’t happen. We finally did come to CO 389 and turned south and while this road was darn nice, it wasn’t what a road through those hills would have been like.
But it was nice. A good two-lane road, almost no traffic, wandering through the hills and down through a canyon, up the other side, and on to Folsom. South then six miles to Capulin Volcano.
Unfortunately it was Sunday and the weekends are when the monument gets the most visitors. We were told we would have to wait our turn to ride up the road that encircles the volcano because there were no parking spaces available at the top. The wait could be an hour. How about if we just ride up and come right back down? No, there’s no place to turn around at the top. Oh really? I’ve been up there before, and we’re on motorcycles for pete’s sake. But they were following the policy someone higher up than them set it place. It’s fun going up the hill, and the views are terrific, but not for us on this day. We left.
Rather than go a couple miles further south to US 64, which is a four-lane highway with a lot of truck traffic, we backtracked to Folsom and took NM 72 west to Raton. What a sweet road! Almost zero traffic, two lanes and twisty, going up high and down low. Vastly nicer than US 64.
At Raton we stopped to get gas and have lunch, hoping that a very dark cloud to the west would pass on by. When we were ready to ride again the cloud had indeed passed by but now the entire sky to the west was looking even more threatening. We headed south a short distance on I-25, then got off onto US 64, which goes to Cimarron and then up a canyon, over a lip, and down into Eagle Nest. This is where you hit the road that encircles Wheeler Peak, with Taos on the southwest, Eagle Nest on the northeast, and Red River at about the northernmost point of the circle. There’s a big motorcycle rally at Red River each year so you don’t have to guess that there’s some good riding around here. Red River was our destination for the day.
First we had to get there. We already stopped and suited up before heading up the canyon. We managed to shoot between a couple clouds but the closer we got the more generalized the rain became. It was just spitting but it was not too soon to stop and put on the rain gear.
Once we got in the canyon the rain became pretty consistent, if still light. But then it got harder. And harder. Pretty soon it was pouring down. I opened my visor a crack to get rid of the fog developing inside and also to let some cool air and the occasional raindrop splatter my face. The rain was no problem but I was getting drowsy and having trouble keeping my eyes open.
Apparently the other guys were not faring as well. Several said, when we stopped at Eagle Nest, that they could hardly see the road to stay on it. Others had rainsuits that seemed not to be doing their job very well, with the front of their shirts dripping wet. I was as warm and dry as could be. Friggs, obviously your new rain jacket is defective. Bill and Dennis, maybe you should have worn something other than your half helmets. John, you’ve got to crack your visor to get rid of that fog. What the heck’s the matter here? None of us is lacking in experience in this kind of thing.
No matter. Just another 20 miles and we were in Red River. We pulled into the lot in front of our motel and the manager, standing out front, said he hoped we had reservations because they were full. Yes indeed, we said, we made reservations in April. Terrific, he said, you got the best rooms in place. And we did. This place is a block off the main street, by the creek, and our doors opened onto the creek. This was a choice spot to spend the night.
Biker Quote for Today
You’re a biker wannabe if you’ve never had to replace a worn out tire.
Tags: riding to Red River
