I apologize for the delay in completing our story but I took another weeks vacation and rode to Sturgis for Bike Week. (My visit revealed none of the wildness displayed on various television programs and magazines but I also chose not to frequent the places with wild histories)
Cabin sleeping turned out to be one of the worst sleep experiences of the trip for me. It was nobodies fault but my own. For some reason I didn't check the plug on my air mattress to make sure I had it tight. Twice in the middle of the night I had re-inflate my air mattress which means I didn't get the plug back in tight twice! I spent half the night concerned that I had a leak in my $10 air mattress. Logic didn't prevail for me. If I had a leak I would just go buy another $10 mattress.
I didn't think it would take as long to pack this morning but I forgot I had started setting the tent up prior to our obtaining the cabin so I had carried the tent to the cabin and piled it on the couch without stowing it the night before. Last to pack again! Got everything stowed on the bikes and headed into Red River, NM. We snagged a breakfast at one of the restaurants in town but I can't remember the name of the place. We also revisited the Fly fishing shop to make the purchases we had searched out the evening before. We shopped in a couple of other shops then decided to go exploring. I really enjoy exploring. I can explore antique shops, museums, mountain streams, new highways, art galleries, back roads and anything else that might disclose a hidden treasure or two. Life is about details. Life for me is about seeing and experiencing as much as I can in the time I have been given.
I'm sure my desire to experience new places and things can be quite irritating to friends and family that don't have the same explorer traits but it's who I am and what I do. Our adventure for the day starts in the Taos Plains. If I remember correctly the turn to the Rio Grand Wild and Scenic River Area is about 4 miles north of Questa.
Turning west on New Mexico 378 brings you through the town of Cerro. Cerro is a small community which doesn't appear to have any type of industry and looks as if everyone drives to surrounding areas for their employment. The two most fascinating observances in Cerro are the Mission and the cemetery across the road from the Mission. The small church isn't what I would consider a touristy mission as many of the missions around Taos, Santa Fe or San Antonio, TX but it has a unique charm and presents itself as being a focal point for this community. It has character. Directly across the street is the local cemetery which appears to be maintained and by the church. Since we were travelling the week of July fourth I expected patriotic decorations everywhere we went. The cemetery was decorated beautifully. There were flowers on every grave, bright colors everywhere. Flags of the United States were too numerous to count as they flew in the light New Mexico breeze. The sky was very blue with spots of clouds floating over the Taos Plains. Some were dropping rain, some provided cover from the sun. A few miles out of Cerro, to the west, New Mexico 378 brings us to one of the most fascinating mystical areas in all of New Mexico. We ride into the first pullout as find the permit box. The permit system in the Wild and Scenic River Area is based on the honor system. The park service does not maintain an entrance booth for fee collections so they put blank permits in a box which we fill out then drop our entrance fee in the 6" pipe vault. I think the fee was $3 each. Just a note, Jim decided to stay in Red River while Glen and I went to Cerro. Glen and I had just finished our permit process and were discussing the obvious question of people being honest in situations similar to this. We got back on the motorcycles and pulled out just as a ranger was pulling in behind us. We laughed at the irony. The roads in the park are asphalt but the parking areas and some of the loops to the observation points are fairly loose gravel. The views were well worth the gravel excursions. Stopping at the visitor center gave us the opportunity to observe a small 3D map of the area. There were also several displays exhibiting the wildlife living in the area. The park service maintains a small gift shop with a nice selection of books and bottled water. After consuming a bottle of water and talking with the rangers we ventured on. The trail system in the canyon is fairly extensive and covers the length of the park and more. The trail to the bottom of the canyon at all of the observation points is quite steep and considering the current physical condition we were in it would have taken the entire day to climb back up the steep canyon walls. We decided to observe from the edge of the canyon. The canyon is so vast and enticing it would be easy to spend an entire week searching its beauty. The colors in the canyon as the sun begins to rise over the mountains to the east are a witness to the vastness of the Creator's palette. The blues, grays and purples hide the cracks and crevices in the canyon walls until the sun chases them from the canyon walls in the middle of the day. The reds and browns of the canyon in the sunlight have so many hues it becomes hard to define distinct shapes. The River meanders along the canyon floor hiding native trout in the shadows except when they dart out to snag part of the local hatch of insects for a quick snack. Hawks and eagles soar between the canyon walls their ever alert eyes searching the rocks and shadows for their next tasteful treat. Coyotes, bobcats, mountain lions and numerous small inhabitants call this amazing place home. A second canyon develops to the east bringing the Red River into the main canyon in a convergence of flows adding to the volume of the Rio Grand. It really becomes one of those places that requires more time to explore than we have available and as it does the day must go on. Time to ride.
Returning to Red River is a pleasant ride through the twisting pines alongside the Red River. It's nice to see the area recovering from the infestation of pine beetles that have plagued the forests of the western US for so many years. We pull into Red River to begin our search for the elusive Jim. We discover him wandering around in the vicinity of the community center. Deciding it's time to move on we get mounted and head towards Bobcat Pass.As we reach the top of Bobcat Pass to the east of Red River, NM it starts sprinkling. Quick decision, time for the rain gear. It's just a small sprinkle but... it's feels like it's about 40 degrees. We get suited up just in time for the sprinkle to turn into a fairly intense downpour. Good decision. Jim decides he's not waiting any longer and takes off leaving Glen and I to finish donning our rain gear, get our boxes closed and start our journey again.
The highway from Red River to Eagle Nest drifts through the mountains revealing an area once rich in ranching and gold fever... Gold fever? Elizabeth Town, once a gold strike was home to 40,000 people. Miners, store owners, saloons all that the boom towns of the American west were in there sundered past made up the face of Elizabeth Town, NM. Now it lies in ruins to the east of highway 38 just north of Eagle Nest. Another place worth exploring but it looks like its on private property.
Lunch in Eagle Nest was at the first cafe we found on the north side of the highway just east of the junction of highways 38 and 64. The burgers were good and there were so many fries none of us finished the whole sack. The waitress was great, overall a nice little place to stop. As noted so many times in our travels it seems when riding a motorcycle while touring this great country invokes more conversations than one can imagine. A couple was entering the restaurant as we were leaving. They were driving a nice fairly new Mercedes. The gentleman asked how are journey was going and where we'd come from. After sharing a few highlights of our journey he expressed a desire to travel as we had been. He was a little unsure of his capabilities though whether it was patience, endurance or just a sore butt I can't recall. He told us what kind of motorcycle he had but said he hadn't travelled more than 200 miles on a trip on it. He also said his companion, a very nice and attractive tall blond haired woman had ridden hers all over the U.S., which surprised all of us. We had just been found guilty of the great American syndrome of stereotyping! Hope they enjoyed their meal, had great discussions and made a decision to see the U.S. of A. from the seat of a motorcycle!
All day I had been mentally preparing myself for our next stop.
We ventured to the west of Eagle Nest to a monument built just to the north of Angel Fire, NM. Welcome to the Vietnam War Veterans Memorial. I have been here before. The memorial began as a tribute built by Dr. Victor Westphall to honor his son, David Westphall, who had been killed in Vietnam
All I am going to say is this is such a moving and emotionally draining place that I would recommend every American make it a point to tour this memorial. No more commentary for this part of our trip, you, the reader should discover and explore this memorial on your own. It is a solitary endeavour, a visit best taken in quiet solitude.
Riding a motorcycle gives one the opportunity to clear his or her mind in several ways. First you must pay attention to everything around you. Cars and trucks tend to not see you, animals are no longer just fun to see, they now present themselves as a formidable opponent in any encounter (even squirrels). Riding a motorcycle also affords you the opportunity to engage all of your senses to your surroundings all the time. They say a dog's nose is so sensitive they can smell things they buried months ago just by trotting by. When you ride a motorcycle you also engage smells. The pine trees smell wonderful as you pass through Cimarron Canyon, NM. You can smell a field of wildflowers, a pig farm, horse pastures, feed lots, restaurant cooking, trash containers, rain and even grass and crops that haven't seen rain or water for months. Bugs get their revenge. Instead of dying on the windshield of your car, on a motorcycle they extract a degree of revenge when they tag you right in the middle of your forehead as their last act of living. Some large enough to make you wonder if somebody threw a rock! Justice in it's own form.
We ride through the twisting curves of Cimarron Canyon looking at the strange rock formations while hearing the river make it's journey to the east. We stopped once for pictures. Sometimes the lunacy of people is so glaring it becomes first entertaining but second quite saddening. When we stopped we noticed a sign that had been nailed to a very old, very large tree at the edge of the parking lot. I can't even remember what it said because the abrasiveness of it's location was so unnerving. Twenty yards from this grand old tree was a wooden post set in concrete and would have been a much more tasteful and intelligent place to fasten the sign. Instead the sign had been driven into the flesh of this tree with Sheetrock screws. If I had a screwdriver I would have moved it. I wouldn't consider myself and environmentalist or any of the various names society places on the Eco groups but I do find it offensive when people have an opportunity to do the better thing but do the worst out of ignorance or simply not caring. Move on.
We ride into Cimarron, NM on highway 64 from Angel Fire. Looks like there are plenty of campgrounds. We choose one and get our tents set up. To the north of the highway is a cafe serving cheeseburgers fries and ice cream. We venture across the highway for dinner order our burgers and fries and suddenly notice the sign. The sign says debit or credit cards accepted only for orders over $9.99. Okay... Burger fries and drink $8.75 or so... Not enough and no cash in my pocket, great. I look around for an ATM to no avail. Turning my eyes back to the menu the only thing I would even consider would be the ice cream...$2.50!!! So now my less than $10 dinner turns into $11.25 just so I can use my debit card. Oh well, life and times on the road. The burger was great the fries were ok but fries have to be really special for me to enjoy them as I am not much of a french fry person. Finishing the burger I ask for my ice cream. The tension builds. I get my ice cream, it's not Braums but it will do. Basically it's one scoop on a regular cone. Regular ice cream on a regular cone, single dip, $2.50. I get back to the table, take my seat and Jim proceeds to comment on my $2.50 ice cream. I guess I took it wrong but I also was a little exasperated at the price and the size. I heard something from Jim about the size and price which I took as criticism and fired back "it's my vacation if I want a $2.50 ice cream that's what I'll get!". I didn't fully see the scope of his comment since he had been put in the same position regarding the debit card minimum amount and was basically remarking of the preview he had just seen of his $2.50 expenditure. So... Jim... if I didn't apologize then, I am now, "my apologies old friend". Glen had been witness to both predicaments and knew what Jim meant. As soon as I popped off Glen quenched the situation with a few words of explanation and brought me to a humble (well deserved) silence.
Like many of the places we have visited on this trip, I had been to Cimmarron before. We rode to the old part of town where I started telling them some of the history I had discovered about the hidden treasure concealed in the heart of Cimmarron, NM. The gem of the area is the St. James Hotel. Built in 1872 by the personal cook to Abraham Lincoln it is a wonder of a place with a very distinct place in Western American history. It was built in the heart of the area surrounded by the Colfax County wars. The reader will need to research all the information as my memory won't allow me to accurately tell the story. The hotel was a favorite for Buffalo Bill and Annie Oakley. Other visitors were Jesse James, Wyatt Earp and his brothers, Bat Masterson, Doc Holliday, Waite Phillips and various other business men and outlaws. It seems 26 men lost their lives in the hotel for various reasons including good poker hands. The hotel is still open for business and rents the rooms which are marked for their famous occupants from the past. I read in a book one time that Buffalo Bill would put on his famous Wild West Show in the field across the street for a local orphanage every Christmas. Take a walk in the saloon and observe the bullet holes still in the ceiling. At some point in history the owner was repairing the floor of the rooms above the saloon and counted over 400 bullet holes. The original construction had doubled the thickness of the flooring so the bullets wouldn't disrupt the occupants of the rooms above. Some of the furniture was original to the initial construction. The hotel has changed ownership several times over the years. One of the previous owners int 1920's or 30's closed the hotel and decided to store the furniture in his sisters barn to evade the opportunities of vandals in the area. two weeks (?) after placing the original furniture in the barn, the barn burned to the ground consuming a majority of the original furniture. There are about four pieces in the lobby that were saved. The couch, a chair, a credenza and a mirror remain. If you ever visit, sit on the couch and the chair, take a few seconds to look at the face in the mirror. Then, think about all the faces the mirror has seen. Think about the posteriors the couch and chair have had the job of seating. Think about the letters and stories written at the credenza. This is an amazing place! If you do visit make sure you tour the Old Mill one block south and one block west of the hotel. It is a fabulous museum. It's also privately owned so make a donation if you enjoy it.Back to camp.
Next post..."Volcano! Rain! and the plains of New Mexico and Oklahoma!"
No comments:
Post a Comment
Keep it clean...