Titanic Post

Normally its a good idea after a first date to take time and reflect on what you are experiencing, if you like your date, and to get an idea of whether or not your date likes you. However, after that first ride, I felt confident enough to take the V-Strom out the very next day to see if the elation would persist.

After moving the windshield to the second position, and throwing the Rev-Pak bags over the saddle, I was ready to go. I decided not to re-fuel, because I only had about a hundred miles on the first tank of gas. Also, I decided not to take my camera, because I wasn’t convinced that my Wolfman tank-bag would stay put. So, there are no pictures.

Off across the Tularosa Basin to Las Cruces, about 65 miles from Alamogordo. Highway 70, with four lanes, is considered by some to be boring, but I enjoy it. Going out of town past Holloman Air Force Base, an F-117 flew over my path. I did see it although it is a stealth bomber. I heard it, too. How quiet the ride! About ten miles past the base, White Sands National Monument, with about 250 square miles of pure white gypsum sand dunes beckoned me to turn in. I resisted, because I had a vague plan to be somewhere else down the road. Another time.

The road is rather monotonous–just Mesquite, Greasewood, and Yucca interspersed among the fields of Buffalo grass. Ahead the San Andreas mountain range draws near while the Sacramentos recede in the mirrors. These two mountain ranges were, a long time ago, one big mountain until the plates relaxed and the middle dropped and formed the basin or bolsen as some call it. Some also say that these are part of the Rocky Mountains, but actually they are of the American Cordillera range which extends into Mexico.

The Vstrom is purring right along. I hardly notice the wind or any other discomfort. It is hard to stay under 5k rpm. She wants to go fast.
Before I knew it I was climbing up toward Organ pass. To my left the Organ Pipe mountains. Two of the ‘pipes’ look like big rabbit ears. They overlook the site of a very minor civil war skirmish, whereby the Confederates, without firing a shot, captured a company of Union soldiers fleeing Fort Fillmore on the Rio Grande. In their haste to get away from the ‘Rebels’ they filled their canteens with whiskey. Not a good idea in July.

I ride through Las Cruces without stopping. I have a platypus hydrator in my jacket pocket and nothing hurts. Temperatures are well over 60 F with a little haze in the sky. I take a short cut to Hwy 185 and head north to Hatch, NM. Until Radium Springs this road is straight and shaded by pecan orchards on each side. Lots of agricultural machines on the road until the ruins of Ft. Seldon right before Radium Springs.

Leaving Radium Springs the road winds closer to the Rio Grande, crossing several times. Old adobe houses and other structures dot the landscape along with goats, mules, horses, burros, fowl and just about any creature that will allow itself to be fenced in. A few miles before Hatch the US Border Patrol has an inspection station right on the river. I lift my face plate and get waved through. I didn’t fit their profile. The are looking for illegals and drugs. Of course any agricultural business in the Southwest hires illegals–they couldn’t exist otherwise. They have an understanding.

Hatch is the Green Chile Capitol of the World! I will add, also the best tasting chile in the world. I stop at Las Palmas on Franklin Street and order their enchiladas. I have mine filled with cheese and onions and smothered in spicy red chile sauce. New Mexico has a “State Question” like other states have a state bird or flower (I think our state flower is the beer can.) The question is “red or green?” The answer is the color of the chile sauce you order. If you want both red and green you ask for “Christmas”.I get a green chile burrito to take on the road and leave Hatch on Hwy 26 for Nutt, New Mexico.

It’s about twelve o’clock when I turn off 26 heading north on Hwy 27 toward Hillsboro. The road is narrow and very bumpy. I notice the Vstrom doesn’t mind this at all. Most backroads in the Southwest are rough to discourage people from wanting to move here. The temperatures here can vary by as much as 50 degrees between day and night. The road is called the Lake Valley Road for some reason and goes along some mountains which are kind of precursors to the Mimbres Mountains in the Black Range. To the left and right are hilly grass lands. This time of the year the grass is a beautiful golden color and is in stark contrast to the black asphalt ribbon of a road. There is a well maintained ghost town by the name of Lake Valley that was abandoned in the sixties. This is an enchanting experience; however, by now, dear readers, I have one bar left on my fuel gage and am trying to remember how much fuel this translates to and I am guessing how far this might take me. Does Hillsboro have a service station? I don’t remember ever seeing one there. Also of note, I haven’t seen another vehicle since I turned off at Nutt 25 miles back. If Hillsboro doesn’t have fuel, its only seventeen miles to Caballo Lake and they have fuel there for sure.

There was a gas station in Hillsboro, but no one was there. Interesting! I push on, praying to the gas gods not to leave me stranded. In Caballo I get fuel and discover that I used 4.8 gallons in 264 miles. Excellent mileage, but it was stupid of me not to refuel in Hatch.

I had one more stop in Truth or Consequences. T or C used to be named Hot Springs until, in the 1950s, a TV game show promised to put them on the map, if they changed the name. Before the Spanish Entry into New Mexico, the Indians used the springs to soak in. They would even cease hostilities with other groups while they were taking the waters. I usually go to the Riverbend Hostel. They charge $10 for an hour of soaking in wonderful hot mineral water, but I usually stay longer. The Hostel is on a bend in the Rio Grande and the pools are outside and have different temperatures.

Its getting late and I want to reach San Antonio before it gets dark. I head for the on ramp to I-25 and proceed north having great difficulty keeping the rpms down. I notice that the trucks passing me cause little or no turbulence, which pleases me no end. The interstate crosses several canyons with severe crosswind warnings. Sure enough the windsocks are straight out and perpendicular to the highway, but the Vstrom gently leans into the wind and remains stable. This also makes me happy. The bike is beginning to look like a keeper. I turn off the interstate onto a washboard gravel road which meets Hwy 1, just east of the Rio Grande. Gravel is gravel and dirt is dirt—the bike did better than expected.

Hwy 1 goes past Ft Craig and Valverde toward the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge and then on into San Antonio. Valverde was the site of one of the major Civil War battles in New Mexico. The Confederate Army, after capturing the Union soldiers in the Organ Mountains, traveled up the old Spanish road—the Camino Royal—and met the Ft Craig troops at Valverde. This time the Union troops won. Valverde is, as the name implies, a luscious green valley to the east of the Rio Grande. A true oasis in this desert landscape.

By the time I made it to the Bosque, it was almost sunset and great flocks of migrant birds were making a final approach to landing at the end of their day of foraging. Thousands of Canadian Snow Geese settled down for the night on the wetlands along the river. Further down the road, Sandhill Cranes, looking like lost descendants of pterodactyls, squabbled and postured for space. I sat on a rock with my cold green chile burrito washed down with water from the my water bag, taking in the sound of the birds and the smell of fresh air, thinking that this is good.

Sunset in the high desert can be a chilling experience. I didn’t have an accurate gage of the temperature, but I suspect it was around 40 degrees F. I added a liner under the jacket and the HTs over my jeans that I had stowed in my bags in addition to silk liners in my leather gloves and I’m off for Carrizizo about sixty miles east from San Antonio on 380. Highway 380 is indescribably enchanting during the daylight hours. It is straight through a thirty mile stretch of grassy plain then winds through outliers of the Oscurro Mountains. At the foot of these mountains is Trinity Site where the first atomic bomb was tested in 1945. (This open to the public on the first Saturdays of April and October—there is still low grade radioactivity.) I usually see small herds of mule deer and pronghorn antelope on either side of the highway. I am being extremely cautious! I note that the Vstrom has effective headlights. The highest elevation (about 6000ft) of the ride is on this stretch and the temperature has dropped accordingly. I am cold by the time I pull in to Carrizozo for coffee.

The 60 miles home were uneventful. I was moved by the way the motorcycle and I had come together in the brief two days we had known each other. No misunderstandings, well almost running out of gas maybe, and no hurt feelings. I was awake until about three in the morning (the coffee) and had plenty of time to think about a more serious relationship. After two days and 530 miles, an oil and filter change with a chain service would be the right thing to do.