The past couple years, as I have gotten into a routine of the seasonal work schedule, I find myself missing many of my close friends and family during the work season and doing my best to play catchup in the off season. This year is no different, and I am thankful to be able to devote some time to personal adventures and the people I love in this shoulder season.
This fall, I have been spending lots of time in between with Mark and his family in Denver, along with the friends who have come to visit us there; I’ve also been able to hike the Colorado Trail and see my family in Illinois where we celebrated my grandpas 80th birthday. The second week of October, I made the drive down to New Mexico. I got to go to the balloon fiesta and spend time with my immediate family and my best friend too.
I decided to use the opportunity to see another close friend who is in grad school in Las Cruces. I brought down my bike and the touring bags I had made so I could make the journey from Albuquerque to Las Cruces and enjoy a short tour. This ride was my first time bikepacking and I was excited to try out my new bike on the journey. The route I chose was about 400 miles and I figured it would take me five or six days.
After I left from my parents’ house in Albuquerque Just south of Belen, I hopped onto US 60 where I linked up with the “Off Road-Runner“: an established bikepacking route that stretches from Santa Fe to Las Cruces. I mostly followed the route into Las Cruces, skipping 35 miles in the Gila for fear of road washout/flowing water on the rough forest service roads. I arrived in Las Cruces on Day five of my ride where I met up with my friend Noel and her boyfriend Giulio. I’m spending the week here with them before I ride back to Albuquerque and then make the drive back to Denver to be with Mark.
Tuesday morning Mark and I had an interview with a podcaster who is going to publish a piece about our ski traverse of the Colorado Trail. It was exciting to talk to someone about our experience, and we are looking forward to the release of the piece on The Adventure Sports Podcast. After we got done with the interview, I packed up my bike and did some final mileage calculations before I said goodbye to my parents. I headed south out of Albuquerque on the bike path, hopped on hwy 47 for a brief period, then weaved through the ditches near Valencia, finally reconnecting with 47 and then linking into the Off Road-Runner on US-60. Highway 47 near Albuquerque was hot and busy with traffic, and by the end of the day I was looking forward to the dirt roads and less traveled highways that would comprise the majority of the rest of my ride.
I arrived at the RV park I had planned to camp at around 6pm. I showered, cooked dinner on my camp stove, and laid down for a restless night sleep amidst the interstate noise drifting in from nearby I-25. Already cocooned into my sleeping bag, I was surprised to see another cyclist ride into the RV park, headlight beaming ahead and taillight flashing. I fell asleep excited to talk to another bike packer in the morning. When I woke up early the next day, however, there was no sign of him in the tent camping area. I thought maybe he had gone off to another space in the RV park, but I ate breakfast and packed up without running into him. After just a few miles of riding, I met the elusive character camped out in the sage brush on the side of the dirt road. I pulled over and chatted for a while– he had stopped into the RV park for a shower then opted to ride out into the desert to try and get some distance from the highway noise. He was the only other bikepacker I saw, and I was surprised even to see him. He had ridden the Off-Road Runner previously, and was just riding a small section of it on his way back to Tuscon. He was excited and encouraging, and the short interaction left me feeling enthused about the roads ahead.
I spent that day riding through Cibola National Forest, crossing through Magdelana where I stopped for a late lunch and refilled my water. I ended my day on a beautiful climb overlooking the valley at sunset.
When I woke the next morning, I had another mile of climbing before descending into Bear Trap Canyon. When I reached the top of the climb, there was a “Road Closed” sign posted at the top of the canyon. I stopped a moment, did a quick mental calculation, assumed that the road has probably gotten washed out in the recent rain storms and was no longer passable to motor vehicles. Maybe there would be some rough riding, but surely the friendly sign meant to say “road closed to trucks and stuff, but bikepackers should have little to no problems.” I rode down the steep curves at the top of the road, getting off my bike to walk over what I assumed was the worst of the erosion.
I was wrong.
As I continued down the canyon I discovered the once road replaced by a silty stream. Flash floods in the recent burn scar had gouged out trenches, deposited sand and rocks, downed trees and even torn culverts out of their place. The unseasonably wet fall was showing its affect in full force here.
It was a slow six miles of travel, I rode my bike when I could, but mostly pushed and carried my bike through the bottom of the drainage, back and forth across the creek. Finally, I reached a point where the road climbed out of the canyon and could clip in and pedal. When I made it to out the other end of the road closure, I was relieved to see relatively well maintained dirt road ahead. Heading down toward the small town of Winston, I crossed quite a few more flowing drainages, which continued to drench my feet, but there was nothing so harrowing as what I had seen that morning. I opted to skip the Chloride canyon route that the published route follows, for fear of another road closure or impassably muddy conditions. Later when I checked the Forest Service web page, I read that while the Chloride canyon road is open, but right now it is “especially problematic” (due to washout).
Skipping the Chloride canyon route cut about 35 miles off my journey, so that evening I cruised hwy 52 into Truth or Consequences a day earlier than I had expected.
When I got to town I went to the brewery, hoping that someone would have some advise about the best place to camp. I sat down with a beer and was quickly approached by several helpful folks enjoying the cool evening on the patio. Someone even recognized that I was on the Off-Road Runner, and shared his experience of supporting some people who had ridden it a few years prior. A couple invited me over to their table and after chatting for a while they invited me to come stay the night with them! They were great company and I was happy to have a shower after a hot muddy day.
The next morning I headed out past the dam at Elephant Butte towards Hatch. I got word from Noel that she was doing field work near Rincon, and I thought we would be able to see one another in the afternoon when I road through. The fast riding on well maintained dirt roads, however, was interrupted by stints of rocky double track and a long stretch in a sandy wash, so I ended up missing her by just an hour or so. The afternoon had been blistering and after the challenging road conditions, and the disappointment of missing Noel, I was lacking motivation to move much faster than a crawl. When I road into Hatch, I was dehydrated and ready for a nap, but I still had a few hours of riding before I would be somewhere I could camp. I bought a meal at the first restaurant I saw that was open (well, it was the second but the first open restaurant I saw was a barbecue joint). I drank a huge glass of horchata, but in my exhaustion somehow missed the green chili when I ordered my food. I refilled my water at the gas station and left, feeling no less tired than when I had arrived. I pedaled out of town on the levee road, marveling at the fields of chili, cotton, and the pecan orchards stretching out on either side of the highway.
I turned off of hwy 185 into the Organ Mountain national monument, happy to be off the highway as evening set in. The dirt road through the monument was sparsely traveled (I only saw one truck) so I rode until the sun set. The sky was overcast, and I was worried it might drizzle overnight, so I set up my tarp for the first time on this trip. I found a couple of large sticks in a jammed up in a wash to pitch the tarp. I shared a flat spot with a couple of ant colonies, but they didn’t bother me much, especially as the day turned to dark. The cloud cover kept the night warm, and my sleeping bag proved too hot to sleep inside. The heat made it hard to sleep, but woke to a beautiful desert sunrise the next morning.
I ate oatmeal and drank tea at camp before heading out for Las Cruces. The monument was vast and interesting, and thankfully not too muddy in the bottom of the canyons. I weaved through a serious of rocky roads and was back on pavement by 10 am. The final stretch into Las Cruces was lined with more pecan orchards and cotton fields. I crossed the Rio Grande several times, gazing down at the nearly dry stream bed. It was another hot day, for my standards, but when I talked to folks in Las Cruces they told me they had been reveling in the cool fall weather. By the time I got to Noel an Guilio’s around noon on Saturday, I was glad to be able to change out of my bike shorts and take a shower.
It felt sweet to have arrived at my destination and in the company of my friends. They have been great hosts and we have enjoyed sharing stories, riding bikes, and hiking in the Organ mountains. When I ride back at the end of the week, I’ll follow a slightly different route, looking to avoid the road closure I saw on the way in. The way the forecast looks now, I think I’ll be enjoying slightly cooler temperatures and I may see a slightly quicker ride back.
Bike tour #1 felt successful, and I certainly enjoyed the ability to cover huge miles compared to hiking. This trip has me especially excited for planning more bike tours with Mark and other friends, but mostly grateful that I have a community of friends and family who are so welcoming and enthused and willing to provide the space to make adventures like these possible!
