On the third day of this year's OFMC bike trip we left Colorado to head down to Chama, NM. There we met up with the final member of our party, who had just blasted all the way down from Denver. Our route the following day started out as backtracking for him, and Johnathon warned us that the road we would be on was open range and we should expect cattle. He had no idea.
We left Chama, on up over Cumbres Pass, and had a chance to see a bit of the old west up close and personal. A cattle drive was underway and cowboys and dogs were hard at work moving a herd that looked to be 200 or more. Along the road. And they didn't seem interested in doing anything to help us get through.
A car with New Mexico plates came up behind us and it soon became clear this person had been in the situation before. He shoved his was up behind the herd and started blowing his horn. As the cattle reluctantly gave way he picked his way through, followed by the black pick-up we had been following.
We tried to follow but the herd closed back in behind the cars and we were soon surrounded. Now, most of our guys ride Harleys these days, so they began to do what Harleys do so well. They made a racket! With Evolution engines screaming and horns blowing we parted the seas ourselves and finally got through and on our way.
At Antonito we turned south, back into New Mexico again. About 20 miles north of San Juan Pueblo, our destination for the night, we stopped for a quick break. That's when Randy noticed his rear tire. Or what was left of it. In places there was no tread left at all and there were cords showing through.
"I'm concerned," he said. "I have to get 400 miles back to Denver."
"Not on that tire," I assured him.
If it had been me I would have ridden the 30 miles further south to Santa Fe and had the tire replaced there. Randy didn't want to go out of the way, however, so the next morning he got up and, with Friggs along as a back-up, headed out for Alamosa, 110 miles away, where he had contacted a shop and was expected. I would personally never had done that but he got there safely and everything worked out fine.
Meanwhile the rest of us took off from Espanola up the High Road to Taos, which shows you a bit of Mexican culture and the better side to living in New Mexico, as well as passing through some top-notch scenery. The key to comfort in New Mexico, you have to understand, is dense shade, preferably along a waterway. The Indians knew how to do it and the poorer people still do. We don't need no stinkin' air conditioners.
Just south of Taos we turned east over to Angel Fire, up to Eagle Nest, over the rim of this bowl and down through a twisty little canyon to the plains south of Raton. We jumped on I-25 over Raton Pass back into Colorado and got off immediately in Trinidad to take CO 12 over Cuchara Pass, the Highway of Legends down to La Veta. Here in La Veta, at the Ranch House Inn, we bunked down in rooms each individually decorated, as the Harley room, the Vintage room, the fisherman, and such. Amazingly nice in this tiny burg.
Tomorrow it's on to Lake City, the Colorado town with more Texans than Coloradans.
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