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April 13, 2008
Familiar Roads and Surprises Found Thereupon
When the Albuquerque Motorcycle Rider's Group chooses a route which I know I will enjoy, I will go with them. I joined them Saturday for a "Passengers" ride. I do not know how it came to be called this, only that about 5 of the bikes on the ride carried passengers. Perhaps it was organized so that folks with an interest in motorcycling would be able to get a ride on the back of someone's motorcycle.
The meetup was for 10:00am, and at 9:38 AMT (Albuquerque Microwave Time) I raced off, stopping first at an ATM. Only three bikes were at Denny's when I rolled up. Turns out I had neglected to read the part where kickstands went up at 10:30, meaning I was going to end up standing around and talking routes and roads for half an hour. Several other bikes arrived in short order and by 10:30, some kickstands were up. Other kickstands took longer, and it seemed that takeoff was delayed waiting for one bike that did not even join us on the ride. In Rio Rancho, we picked up two other bikes.
I have ridden NM 4 several times, and it is one of my favorite routes in the state. Turns out that I have been scooting right past one of the most accessible geological attractions each time. NM 485 is a sharp turn to the west off NM 4 just north of the Jemez Pueblo. It proceeds through Gillman, a collection of old barns, loose cows, and trailers. Continuing past these attractions, the road narrows, gets twistier, and finally ends just beyond two short tunnels which have been rough-hewn from the native rock. A river cascades down a canyon below the little parking area. Needless to say, on this trip the cameras came out. The road does not so much end as the way is blocked by a Forest Service gate. 11 miles up the trail the road connects with NM 126, which connects NM 4 to Cuba.
We stopped at the Old Time Café in Jemez Springs, since the last time Jim went to the Los Ojos Package Store was the last time he would ever go there. There were 16 of us for lunch, so went ate outside where it was just barely warm enough. By the time the food arrived, I was hungry. I was also itching to ride the upper portion of NM 4 (above the NM 126 turn off to Fenton Lake). I lobbied the group and the interest in continuing north was unanimous. We agreed to rendezvous at the NM 4 - NM 502 intersection at the bottom of the hill. The burger was just OK, but the cole slaw was as the waitress promised—delicious.
Outside the café, Benny Shendo (candidate for Tom Udall's 3rd District Congressional seat) greeted each of us. He was running from one end of his district to the other. We had earlier seen portions of his group running along US 550. It seemed unfathomable that he had caught up to us, though lunch and the falls had taken more than a bit of time.
There was still snow alongside the road on shadier portions of the highway, and I was careful to treat the damp spots in the road as if they were icy. I also (without shame, I should add) did not trail behind anyone. On roads like NM 4, the 851 is in its element. She becomes a thoroughbred that knows what it should be doing through each set of twisties. When I got to the rendezvous, I made a point of checking the time. 10 minutes after I arrived, the first of the others rolled up to the bottom of the hill.
While we convened, John mentioned that there is a pretty cool lookout in White Rock. We decided to rendezvous at the gas station on the corner and John would guide us from there. Getting to the Overlook was interesting: One turns right (south) at the signal (White Rock has but one), then left at the first intersection. About half a mile down this residential street is a turn off to the left where a largish park and sporting facilities are located. Just beyond this park is the turn off for a small parking area and turnaround circle. We parked on the most level places we could find, and checked the view. It did not disappoint. Off to the west, a small waterfall released water from the mountains to a canyon below. To the east, north, and south, the Rio Grande appeared as a healthy if brown body of water. The Sangre de Cristo's above Santa Fe loomed to the east, and to the north Wheeler Peak. Miraculously, neither I-25 nor any other limited access facility appeared at all.
They would soon enough. By the time kickstands were going up at the White Rock Overlook, it was 5:00pm. The ride back to town was to be the usual route: NM 4 to NM 502 to NM 285 / NM 84 to NM 599 to I-25 to San Felipe Pueblo (ie the Hollywood Casino), and along El Camino Real / Old Route 66 to Bernalillo. At the 599 turn off, I noticed that a police SUV situated in the median was pulling onto our direction of travel. I paced myself to go no more than 5 mph over the speed limit (55 on this stretch of road). As the po-po passed me, I nodded to him. The two bikes behind me, John (who had assumed the thankless and challenging task of bringing up the rear) and the Oregonian snowbird on the FJ, presumably noticed what I had and were doing the exact same thing maintaining their positions. Along comes a green SUV (Bronco, perhaps?) zipping past us and braking directly behind the cop. Resisting the temptation to pass the cop, he brakes again to avoid coming up too close on the cop (who had been doing 60+ to pass us in the first place). The cop pulls over into our (the right) lane to let the SUV by. Instead the SUV tries to make a left turn. The cop switches on the lights and pulls the SUV over. Free from police presence, we accelerated to join up up with the others.
Keeping a group of 10 riders (2 bikes split off in Santa Fe) together on I-25 is a challenge. Drivers have no compunction about inserting their car into a platoon of motorcyclists. I found myself pulling ahead of cars and slowing down a bit to create space for others to pull in. Eventually, I found myself in a sub group of four: the Oregonian behind me, and Lee and Geneva ahead. As we approached San Felipe (the back way into town), Lee and Geneva overshot the exit. I have no idea whether or not this was by design. In any case, I had had enough of the wind and the traffic on I-25 and I pulled off onto the planned route. I caught up to Bill and Kendra on El Camino Real and passed them up somewhere above Algodones. It was the last I saw this day of anyone from the group.
Posted by Underblog at April 13, 2008 7:05 AM
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