2022 — A Cooler Ride South

OFMC 2022 route

The usual suspects, Dennis and Bill and Ken, headed out together this year but we were joined a few days later by a new OFMC rider, Bruce. Welcome Bruce.

We also headed out a good bit later this year, the middle part of September rather than the last weekend in July. We were heading south and cooler temps seemed like a good idea.

Gathering once again at the King Soopers in Conifer the weather was looking iffy. But then coming down the hill into Conifer there was suddenly nothing but clear blue sky ahead. A good omen to get the trip rolling.

Over Kenosha Pass to Fairplay, then a detour down through Hartsel, to Buena Vista and south to Poncha Springs where we made the customary stop at Jenna's, where we made friends with her horses. Then on to Alamosa for the night.

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. We took this road to Taos where we took a chance on a new road that promised to take us around this congested urban area.

Blueberry Hill Road proved out nicely and is definitely a road to take again some day. But we got thrown off our intended route on the south side of Taos and so unintentionally took another new road: NM68. We had intended to take the High Road to Taos and this was clearly not it. But 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 to Espanola way too soon and had about three hours before we could check into our rooms so we cruised on down to check out the golf course where the next day would be spent. And then, of course, there's always gambling to be done.

The course was a beauty and we had a great day out on it. Ken no longer spanks whitey due to a shoulder injury but Dennis and Bill had some serious competition due to Dennis playing worse than usual while Bill played better than usual.

The day after that was for a day ride. We did get on the High Road to Taos this time and headed north. Not far from Espanola there is Truchas, where Ken spotted a cemetery we passed once before that he wanted to stop at. There is a motorcycle-themed gravesite he wanted a photo of. Then we headed on to Taos and took the road east over to Angel Fire. After a stop at a visitor center Ken was turning around and dropped his Concours. Unlike other times that bike has been dropped, this time it smashed the left mirror assembly, leaving the mirror to hang limply, of no use. Gonna need some jerry-rigging here later.

We continued south from Angel Fire on the little road we had ridden once before but it is soon not going to be so little anymore. We were stopped for half an hour by construction, during which time we talked with a couple other bikers who showed up. One was a young guy out on his own on a serious trek on a seriously hacked out bike. The other was an older guy on a Gold Wing. We let them get ahead of us when traffic started moving and in an instant they were both gone and we never saw them again. But the work they're doing on this little barely two-lane road is going to make it a full blown state highway and all its character is going to be lost. Sad. Glad we got to ride it before.

This road took us down to Mora where we stopped for lunch. There were a couple other bikes in the parking lot and we noticed an older couple off to the side. He was wearing a helmet, which he never took off during their entire meal. ??? Then when they left he loaded their two dogs into a carrier on the back of his bike and she put on a helmet--but otherwise was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. And they took off. Takes all kinds, right?

The map showed that if we took the road west out of Mora it would go back to the High Road to Taos, allowing us to avoid having to go all the way down to Las Vegas and onto I-25 to Santa Fe in order to loop back to Espanola. We were definitely going west out of Mora. But we didn't even get completely out of town when we got stopped by a state patrol checkpoint. No problem. They asked if we had been drinking, we said no, and they said have a nice day. Is someone really going to say yes?

The road back to the High Road was nice, and one we had never been on before, but it would have been nicer if it hadn't been through an area that had recently been burned in a forest fire. We've seen an awful lot of this in previous years.

Cruising along, Ken went to put his foot up on his highway peg only to have that peg drop away. Yikes. He pulled over as soon as he could and miraculously, there was the peg, complete with bolt and washer, hanging suspended from the fairing. That went in his bag to be put back on later. We then got back to Espanola where Bruce had arrived and was waiting for us. Now we were four.

We headed out the next day on what again could have been a short jaunt but which we managed to turn into an all-day affair. South to Santa Fe and onto I-25 south 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. That didn't go as planned, however, because it turnedout NM165 is unpaved beyond one point. We backtracked to I-25 and took it through Albuquerque, turned east on I-40, and got off at Tijeras to go north to get to the place we had intended to reach coming south: the road up to Sandia Crest.

Sandia Crest is an overlook where you can see all of Albuquerque spread out before you. It is said to be a mile above the city. And as you might expect the road up there is fabulous on a motorcycle. We enjoyed the ride, up and down. Back at Tijeras we headed south on the smaller roads rather than rejoining I-25 and had some good riding. Gas had not been available in Tijeras so for insurance we stopped in the middle of nowhere and paid probably the highest price in New Mexico for a few gallons. Better than running out. At Mountainair we hit US 60 going west to I-25. The sky ahead was ominous.

Ken was leading, looking at the huge wall of black clouds and hoping to reach a gas station at the junction with I-25 to stop at to either suit up or wait out the storm. But then neither Bruce nor Dennis was behind us so we stopped. Time to suit up. Sure enough, they soon came along, already suited up, and before we started rolling again the rain hit. It was a downpour, and then, at the interstate, there were no buildings at all so we pulled under the highway to wait it out. The rain passed and we went on into Socorro for the night.

In the morning we were in no hurry as we were only going about 160 that day so Ken used the opportunity to hit the nextdoor Ace Hardware for some tape and a steel bar to try to make his left mirror somewhat functional. Not great but better than before. Then we headed west. After a ways Dennis pulled ahead to make sure we didn't pass a rest area where, being in no hurry, we stopped for about 45 minutes. Right where we parked we found a smashed watermelon and about 10 pounds of totally black bananas. OK. The watermelon stop.

We took off but after just five miles we pulled over to take a look at the Very Large Array, a cluster of massive radio-telescopes. We had hoped to visit but found they were not open to the public yet, a remainder of Covid. They did reopen just a couple weeks later, but too late for us. Taking off from there Bruce's bike wouldn't start--he had left the key in the On position and his battery had died. But Bruce is resourceful and he carries a jump-starter. He had to peel some body work off his ST but it fired right up. Nice little device.

On to Datil where we stopped for lunch. Bruce had seen that if we went right at Datil, rather than left as planned, we would pass through Pie Town, a place for which the name is the descriptor. Then further along there was a road running south that would put us right back on our route. We were all set to do this but then found that Pie Town was not open that day so we had to bag that idea.

That turned out to be a good thing. As we headed southwest we could see enormous black clouds hanging over what would have been our northwesterly route. We were dry. We reached US 180 and turned north, to get to Alpine, Arizona. At this intersection it was clear we were going to head right into the weather up there so we stopped to suit up. Bruce remarked it would be just that kind of thing if we rode through a little rain only to come out into that patch of blue sky we could see between a couple hills. We all laughed at that but that was exactly what happened.

Along the way, though, the skies opened up on us. And riding along up this canyon road, Dennis, who was leading, and Ken behind him, skirted around a big rock in the middle of the road. Bill did not. Bill took a terrific jolt hitting the rock but stayed up and we made it on to Alpine with no problem. We pulled into our motel and Bill's front tire then immediately went flat. What the hey?

It didn't take much inspection to see what the problem was. His rim was bent out badly and the tire could not hold air. How in the world did he manage to get to Alpine? Our host had an air compressor and aired the tire up again but within an hour it was flat again. Bill called a tow company in the next town up and they said they couldn't be down to haul him up there till noon the next day. We explored several other options but they didn't pan out so that was the plan. A bike shop in town would be glad to put an inner tube in and they had it in stock.

With no hurry in the morning Ken took the opportunity to put his highway peg back on and then the tow truck managed to get there by 11, so great. We went on to Eager and they put the tube in but now we had our longest day of riding still ahead of us and we were getting started at 3 p.m. Let's burn some miles to Farmington. As we headed toward Gallup on this quiet, wide open road, Bruce suddenly rocketed ahead and was gone in a flash. Turns out he hadn't had the bike for long and wanted to see what it could really do. It did nicely, thank you. We all need to do that at times, don't we?

On through Gallup and north on US 491, then Indian Service Route 5, and north into Farmington. By now the sunlight was fading and we don't generally care to ride at night, but we had no choice. At least New Mexico did its usual thing of giving us a really lovely dusk. This is why they call it the Land of Enchantment. We got into Farmington just in time to immediately rush off for dinner before the restaurant closed. Meanwhile, Bill's bike was not handling like it should.

Sure enough, in the morning the tire was flat again. How could that be, with that tube in there? Maybe the valve stem wasn't seated properly; we'll never know. But Dennis's pump was enough to get air in the tube such that Bill could ride five miles to the local Harley dealer. Long story short, $2,000 later Bill was back on the road with a new wheel and tire.

We headed northeast through Aztec then north on US 550. Just past the state line, back in Colorado, we turned east on County Road 110 that took us to Ignacio, avoiding the mess of US 160 most of the way to Pagosa Springs. We stopped and had a good meal at the casino, Bill lost a little more money, and Ken made back just a little that he had lost in Espanola. Then on to Pagosa, over Wolf Creek Pass down to South Fork, and left toward Creede. Our stop, however, was before Creede, at the Blue Creek Lodge and RV Park. We were looking forward to this place because Ken had gotten a call a couple days earlier telling us they had moved us to different quarters, to a bunkhouse kind of thing where we would have separate rooms and a common area with kitchen. Cool.

What we didn't know was that to get there we had to ride on loose gravel through the entire RV park and then up a hill. It was white knuckle time but we made it; Bill opted to park down the hill rather than attempt it. Bruce has long legs to use as outriggers so he was fine. We told the two of them they had to go get dinner from somewhere. They brought back a couple pizzas and we ate. Meanwhile, the cabins were chilly and we had turned the heaters on but to no apparent effect. Also, once dark set in, any time we opened a door an incredibly cloud of gnats flew in and filled the air. Get in and out fast!

In the middle of the night each of us individually awoke to find that the heaters were indeed working--we were cooking! OK, turn those suckers down.

Riding down in the morning was white knuckle time again but no problems and we headed toward Creede. Up over Spring Creek and Slumgullion Passes, down to Lake City, and on to Gunnison. Lunch in Gunnison at the ever popular McDonald's and then over Monarch Pass, to Buena Vista, and a stop in Fairplay to say our farewells. Dennis split off at Conifer and the other three went three different ways at US 185 and C-470 and another OFMC trip was in the history books.

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