I saved this post for last because it is the most important aspect of an experience such as Bikecapade II.
While Bikecapade was certainly an adventure intended for fun and physical challenge, I also knew that it would be a spiritual journey as well. There’s no way you can spend such vast time alone, amid such beautiful surroundings, pushing yourself to the limit, without what one writer called “practicing the presence of God.”
That’s one reason I did not use my iPod much on the ride. It inhibits meditation, prayer and reflection. Occasionally, when facing a long grueling climb, it would help to listen to my playlist of worship songs. As I mentioned in one post, I even played “Chariots of Fire” to help make it up one such hill.
For the most part, I am not thinking about anything of great significance when I ride. I just want to take in the scenery, focus on my riding and enjoy the serendipity of whatever comes to mind.
I occasionally pray. Some prayers are for the specific needs of that day: the stamina to get to my destination, safety and protection along the way. Other prayers are just inviting God’s presence, opening myself up to what He has in store for me that day.
We cannot presume what God has in store for us. Maybe riding in the rain will be His way of talking to us that day.
The aim is an attitude of being with God throughout the day. My personal belief system envisions a God of the Heavenlies — not a God of a faraway heaven, but a God who permeates every aspect of the world, who surrounds us and, if we let Him, even inhabits us. The God “who art in heaven” is a God that is more present than the air we breathe or the light we see.
I don’t profess to have great spiritual experiences. No voices from the sky, no visions. Once in a while I get a hold of a simple truth that seems to be His particular message, such as “I will provide all of your needs today.”
There is nothing particularly spiritual or disciplined about my lifestyle off the road. When I check into a motel, all I want to do is shower and eat. I usually fall asleep with the TV on.
One discipline I have maintained over the years has always been my mainstay in running or cycling. Back in 1976, when I first took up jogging on a regular basis, I found it incredibly boring. To give my mind something to do, I memorized about 16 hymns that I grew up with while attending Presbyterian churches (“O Worship the King,” “For All the Saints,” “Be Thou My Vision” etc.”). I always recite them to myself in my head, in the same order. Most of the time I will “loop” on several of the verses, then catch myself and re-start that hymn, and so forth.
On the last day of the ride, this really helped. Because I knew I had friends waiting for me in Las Cruces, I needed to keep up my pace. I forced myself to go through the whole cycle of hymns (which can take about half and hour, longer if I “loop” a lot) before looking down at my bike computer to see how many miles I had covered.
My advice is that everyone should have something like this stored in their head that will occupy their mind when needed. The hymns work for me. For someone else it might be other kinds of songs, poetry or maybe Bible verses. I think it’s important that it be something uplifting and meaningful. Even though I don’t reflect on the words that much, I believe there is a subconscious benefit just to have something healthy running through my mind.
I love the little “God things” that seem to occur on an adventure like this. I remember on Day 3 I had made a mental note of stopping at mile 83 of the 100-mile ride. Don’t ask me why – it was just an arbitrary choice that I had made. But it just so happened that mile 83 came at the very summit of that day’s ride.
I had decided to bring along St. Augustine’s “City of God” for the trip. I probably only got through about 100 pages during various breaks during the ride (I started, by the way, with Part III of the book; the first two parts are not anywhere near as stimulating to me). Ironically, this seemed to fit into the ride quite well, since the Bikecapade route included both the Plains of San Augustin and San Augustin Pass.
The point of this last post is not to preach. I just think the spiritual aspect of a long ride like this is incredibly important. Physical fitness, after all, won’t last forever.
That’s it for the Bikecapade blog (until the next Bikecapade!). Thank you for all who followed along, Writing this blog added so much to the experience (and certainly made me happy I decided to cart my laptop along). I’m glad I could share this adventure with you. It’s been a great ride.
-- Randy
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Reflection I: What possessed me?
While riding back with my El Paso Bicycle Club escort on the final 40 miles home, Phil asked, “What possessed you to do this?”
Basically there were two reasons for the trip, both tied to the 20th anniversary of the original Bikecapade.
One, I love Southern New Mexico. As stated in my earlier blogs, I came to El Paso to work as the New Mexico Editor for the El Paso Times. I traveled a lot in Southern NM during those 2 1/2 years I held that post, culminating in the 800-mile Bikecapade. Bikecapade II was conceived as a way of both refamiliarizing myself with the land and also seeing some territory I had not seen before.
The scenery was indeed amazing and I fell in love with Southern New Mexico all over again. In particular, Day 4 will be the grandest memory of the ride — the ride up NM 32 was both the toughest and most beautiful of the journey.
Second, bicycling has become a major passion (my wife calls it an obsession bordering on possession) over the past year and a half. During that time I’ve been become a fairly good cyclist for my age (55) and I was curious how my fitness now might compare to the 35-year-old who tackled the first Bikecapade. So I came up with a route that although not quite as long as the first, would be much more challenging. I rode much longer distances each day (90 miles average compared to under 70 average 20 years ago), over much tougher terrain.
For sentimental reasons, I wanted to also make this a 20th birthday celebration for my Miyata, “Proud Mary,” the bike that carried me on the 1988 tour and for thousands and thousands of miles since. In fact, I have ridden Proud Mary for 12,000 miles since I took up cycling with a vengeance at the end of March 2007. She now will go into official semi-retirement, but remains the bike of choice for in-city errands and hopefully future Bikecapades.
As far as the fitness comparison, the younger Limbird of 1988 could not have kept up with his 55-year-old counterpart of 2008. Cycling an average of 200 miles a week this past year conditioned me to handle whatever hills the road through at me. I did not have any major problems 20 years ago, but overall my energy level seemed higher now. Both Bikecapades, for example, ended with marathon rides (113 miles then, 109 miles this time). Twenty years ago, I had a friend meet me the night before so I could offload my touring gear and ride relatively light to the finish line. I intended to do the same this time, but it didn’t work out – but my pace on the last day was much faster than 20 years ago.
I say this not to brag (OK, I am bragging a bit), but to encourage people to never give up on their fitness. You have no idea of what you may be capable of. Aging is no excuse for taking life easy. In fact, getting older should be the incentive for pushing yourself even harder.
Just before I sat down to write this, I noticed an article in the Sunday paper about “Adventure Fitness.” The idea is to take on an adventure that will challenge you to not get fit in preparation, but also take you to the limits in the adventure itself. Bikecapade II certainly was an example of that.
Basically there were two reasons for the trip, both tied to the 20th anniversary of the original Bikecapade.
One, I love Southern New Mexico. As stated in my earlier blogs, I came to El Paso to work as the New Mexico Editor for the El Paso Times. I traveled a lot in Southern NM during those 2 1/2 years I held that post, culminating in the 800-mile Bikecapade. Bikecapade II was conceived as a way of both refamiliarizing myself with the land and also seeing some territory I had not seen before.
The scenery was indeed amazing and I fell in love with Southern New Mexico all over again. In particular, Day 4 will be the grandest memory of the ride — the ride up NM 32 was both the toughest and most beautiful of the journey.
Second, bicycling has become a major passion (my wife calls it an obsession bordering on possession) over the past year and a half. During that time I’ve been become a fairly good cyclist for my age (55) and I was curious how my fitness now might compare to the 35-year-old who tackled the first Bikecapade. So I came up with a route that although not quite as long as the first, would be much more challenging. I rode much longer distances each day (90 miles average compared to under 70 average 20 years ago), over much tougher terrain.
For sentimental reasons, I wanted to also make this a 20th birthday celebration for my Miyata, “Proud Mary,” the bike that carried me on the 1988 tour and for thousands and thousands of miles since. In fact, I have ridden Proud Mary for 12,000 miles since I took up cycling with a vengeance at the end of March 2007. She now will go into official semi-retirement, but remains the bike of choice for in-city errands and hopefully future Bikecapades.
As far as the fitness comparison, the younger Limbird of 1988 could not have kept up with his 55-year-old counterpart of 2008. Cycling an average of 200 miles a week this past year conditioned me to handle whatever hills the road through at me. I did not have any major problems 20 years ago, but overall my energy level seemed higher now. Both Bikecapades, for example, ended with marathon rides (113 miles then, 109 miles this time). Twenty years ago, I had a friend meet me the night before so I could offload my touring gear and ride relatively light to the finish line. I intended to do the same this time, but it didn’t work out – but my pace on the last day was much faster than 20 years ago.
I say this not to brag (OK, I am bragging a bit), but to encourage people to never give up on their fitness. You have no idea of what you may be capable of. Aging is no excuse for taking life easy. In fact, getting older should be the incentive for pushing yourself even harder.
Just before I sat down to write this, I noticed an article in the Sunday paper about “Adventure Fitness.” The idea is to take on an adventure that will challenge you to not get fit in preparation, but also take you to the limits in the adventure itself. Bikecapade II certainly was an example of that.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Day 8 — Alamogordo to El Paso
The last day is the longest: 109 miles. The forecast is 60 percent chance of rain with winds up to 20 mph or more, coming from the south to southwest (the direction I’m headed). Some friends from the El Paso Bicycle Club had said they might try to meet up with me in Las Cruces but the last email indicated the weather would cancel their plains. Meanwhile, my wife had to cancel plans to meet me in Alamogordo (she was nursing a sick dog just home from the vet) so that meant I would have to carry all my gear for the final long haul.
I get up at 5:40 a.m. and look outside – no rain. Half an hour later – rain. Another half-hour – no rain. I head out just before 7 a.m. and wheel down the road to a pancake house for breakfast. The weather is still dry when I get going around 7:30.
Eight miles later I get the second flat tire of the ride. Looks like a cut on my rear tire, which was new when I started the ride but now is fairly worn due to carrying the two rear saddlebags. I’m thankful the weather is still dry as I replace the tube (I can patch the old tube at home).
Ten miles later, I get a call from my bike club buddies. Their ride is a go after all and they are already about an hour along on their ride to Mesilla. That means they have two hours at most to get there and I have four hours or more. At least the phone call makes me concentrate on my pace.
U.S. 70 is one of the most boring stretches of Bikecapade II, as it was with the first Bikecapade 20 years ago. This time I was going in the other direction. Aside the a few glimpses of the gypsum dunes at White Sands National Monument, the road is a numbingly straight line through the desert for nearly 40 miles. Then begins a long climb to the San Augustin Pass. At least that will be the last climb of Bikecapade.
Headed downhill, I make plans with the biking friends for them to meet me at U.S. 70 and I-25. When we get there, we find out that bicycles aren’t allowed on the U.S. 70 overpass, so it takes a few minutes to ride around and connect. About eight of them have made the trip (thanks Linda, Margaret, John, Phil, Olac, Ashley, Jaime and Marta!). You can see them (except for Ashley taking the picture) at the Bikecapade photo gallery: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=q0xr8qy.161e7da2&x=0&h=1&y=-t70kx&localeid=en_US
We make a refueling stop at a fast food place so I can keep going, then head back home on NM 28. The pace is stiff for the 40+ mile trip home – about 17 mph average. But the legs hold up and I still can manage a sprint or two in the final miles.
The final total: 721 miles over the 8 days – an average of 90 miles a day.
Mission accomplished. I will post a couple of reflections on the ride later.
I get up at 5:40 a.m. and look outside – no rain. Half an hour later – rain. Another half-hour – no rain. I head out just before 7 a.m. and wheel down the road to a pancake house for breakfast. The weather is still dry when I get going around 7:30.
Eight miles later I get the second flat tire of the ride. Looks like a cut on my rear tire, which was new when I started the ride but now is fairly worn due to carrying the two rear saddlebags. I’m thankful the weather is still dry as I replace the tube (I can patch the old tube at home).
Ten miles later, I get a call from my bike club buddies. Their ride is a go after all and they are already about an hour along on their ride to Mesilla. That means they have two hours at most to get there and I have four hours or more. At least the phone call makes me concentrate on my pace.
U.S. 70 is one of the most boring stretches of Bikecapade II, as it was with the first Bikecapade 20 years ago. This time I was going in the other direction. Aside the a few glimpses of the gypsum dunes at White Sands National Monument, the road is a numbingly straight line through the desert for nearly 40 miles. Then begins a long climb to the San Augustin Pass. At least that will be the last climb of Bikecapade.
Headed downhill, I make plans with the biking friends for them to meet me at U.S. 70 and I-25. When we get there, we find out that bicycles aren’t allowed on the U.S. 70 overpass, so it takes a few minutes to ride around and connect. About eight of them have made the trip (thanks Linda, Margaret, John, Phil, Olac, Ashley, Jaime and Marta!). You can see them (except for Ashley taking the picture) at the Bikecapade photo gallery: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.
We make a refueling stop at a fast food place so I can keep going, then head back home on NM 28. The pace is stiff for the 40+ mile trip home – about 17 mph average. But the legs hold up and I still can manage a sprint or two in the final miles.
The final total: 721 miles over the 8 days – an average of 90 miles a day.
Mission accomplished. I will post a couple of reflections on the ride later.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Day 7 — Capitan to Alamogordo
Climbing. Headwind. That pretty much sums up Day 7.
Technically, I had more downhill riding than uphill. I started in Capitan (elevation 6,350) and ended up in Alamogordo (4,350). But the fact is that downhills take up just a small part of the time riding. Uphills take up a lot of time, particular when the wind is blowing 15 to 20 mph in your face.
Today’s rise was an extreme case of this. The entire day was spent in a series of climbs culminating at Cloudcroft, which is about 8700 feet high. From there, it takes about 1/2 hour to descend over 4,000 feet in 16 miles down U.S. 82.
That was definitely the “E Ticket” ride of Bikecapade II (for you young folks, an E Ticket was the high-priced ticket used for the most thrilling rides at Disneyland before they went to the pay-one-price ticket). I was running late, so I hit the descent at sunset, the wind again in my face. My hands went numb in my death grip on the handlebars. I was going 30-37 mph the whole way.
I started the day late because I had no idea that the wind would slow me down so much. It was nearly 9 a.m. when I left Capitan and it took nearly three hours to reach Ruidoso, only 21 miles away (I took a lengthy rest stop along the way). Capitan and Ruidoso aren’t that much different in altitude, but there are two major climbs in between.
From Ruidoso, it’s a long haul up to Apache Summit. I was looking for the turnoff for NM 244 — the scenic byway to Cloudcroft — and had forgotten that it was a few miles past the summit. I even asked a hitchhiking Mescalero Apache where NM 244 was just to make sure I had not passed it already. He assured me it was just a mile further downhill. Then he asked for a sandwich. All I had to give him was a Clif Bar.
NM 244 also consists of two major climbs, including a 12-mile continuous uphill to Cloudcroft. The saving grace was the changing fall colors of the Lincoln National Forest. Check out the Bikecapade photos at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=q0xr8qy.161e7da2&x=0&h=1&y=-t70kx&localeid=en_US
I don’t what I am going to do for my final ride home. The forecast calls for rain and wind. I guess I will just tough it out. But it’s really pouring Saturday morning I may reconsider.
Technically, I had more downhill riding than uphill. I started in Capitan (elevation 6,350) and ended up in Alamogordo (4,350). But the fact is that downhills take up just a small part of the time riding. Uphills take up a lot of time, particular when the wind is blowing 15 to 20 mph in your face.
Today’s rise was an extreme case of this. The entire day was spent in a series of climbs culminating at Cloudcroft, which is about 8700 feet high. From there, it takes about 1/2 hour to descend over 4,000 feet in 16 miles down U.S. 82.
That was definitely the “E Ticket” ride of Bikecapade II (for you young folks, an E Ticket was the high-priced ticket used for the most thrilling rides at Disneyland before they went to the pay-one-price ticket). I was running late, so I hit the descent at sunset, the wind again in my face. My hands went numb in my death grip on the handlebars. I was going 30-37 mph the whole way.
I started the day late because I had no idea that the wind would slow me down so much. It was nearly 9 a.m. when I left Capitan and it took nearly three hours to reach Ruidoso, only 21 miles away (I took a lengthy rest stop along the way). Capitan and Ruidoso aren’t that much different in altitude, but there are two major climbs in between.
From Ruidoso, it’s a long haul up to Apache Summit. I was looking for the turnoff for NM 244 — the scenic byway to Cloudcroft — and had forgotten that it was a few miles past the summit. I even asked a hitchhiking Mescalero Apache where NM 244 was just to make sure I had not passed it already. He assured me it was just a mile further downhill. Then he asked for a sandwich. All I had to give him was a Clif Bar.
NM 244 also consists of two major climbs, including a 12-mile continuous uphill to Cloudcroft. The saving grace was the changing fall colors of the Lincoln National Forest. Check out the Bikecapade photos at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.
I don’t what I am going to do for my final ride home. The forecast calls for rain and wind. I guess I will just tough it out. But it’s really pouring Saturday morning I may reconsider.
Day 6 — Socorro to Capitan
A much tougher day. This would make a good route for fans of the Ride to Mescalero (a 120-mile from NE El Paso to Ruidoso), because it involves a long, flat main part and a steep climb at the end. About 96 miles total.
As always, check out the Bikecapade photos at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=q0xr8qy.161e7da2&x=0&h=1&y=-t70kx&localeid=en_US
From Socorro, I rode about 10 miles south on NM 1 to San Antonio. San Antonio, N.M., is a hamlet best known as the hometown of Conrad Hilton and the home of the Owl Café, world famous for its green chile hamburgers. But today it was only about 8:15 a.m. when I stopped at the Owl, so I settled on a cup of coffee. I sat at the bar (which once belonged to Hilton) since I was the only customer. Owner Adolf Baca, now 76, recounted the story he has surely told thousands of time before.
“I was 13 and I had to go outside to pee,” that July 16 morning. Suddenly the pre-dawn sky turn bright as noon and the earth shook. He ran back to bed having lost all desire to pee. Later he would find out he had been one of the witnesses of the first atomic bomb explosion, detonated about 35 miles southeast on White Sands Missile Range.
The story was well worth price of the coffee — but Mr. Baca wouldn’t even let me pay for that.
About an hour later I was able to pay that forward when a family from Long Island, N.Y. stopped at the Trinity Site historical marker where I was eating an apple. I told the couple and their teen-age son about the site, Mr. Baca’s story fresh in my mind, and highlighted some other tourist stops along their way. They had rented a car in Albuquerque and were taking a vacation through New Mexico.
The couple was apparently from Japan originally but had lived in the U.S. for about 20 years. They asked if anyone suffered illness from the Trinity Site explosion, and they recalled the horrible aftereffects suffered by the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
That was one of the few memorable moments on that eternally long stretch of 65 miles between San Antonio to Carrizozo. In a car, it would be just a long hour when you would turn up the car stereo and your passengers might nap. On a bike it’s forever. Nothing but flat, high-desert landscape with the mountains far in the distance east and west.
The lone stop along the way is a place called Bingham, which I think has a population of three and the main attraction is the Bingham Rock Shop, with thousands of rocks arrayed on metal stands in front of the shop. Shopping for rocks was a bit out of the question for a bicyclist, but I did have an intense interest in the Coke machine. The vending machine did not seem to work, so I rang the doorbell to the shop. A woman emerged from the double-wide trailer in back and said she just needed to plug the machine back in — she always unplugs it at night, she explained, “but they’re still cold,” she added. Apparently I was the first Coke customer of the day and it was already past noon. The rock shop did have the friendliest cats I have ever encountered, and their purring seemed particularly loud in the desert quiet.
At the east end of the basin is a steep hill after which begins the downhill approach into Carrizozo. A few miles before town is Valley of Fires State Park, an old lava flow that looks spectacular not so much because of the deep black volcanic rock, but the rich desert plants that thrive amid the rock. It’s the ultimate xeriscaping.
Carrizozo is also the first chance for a meal in 65 miles. I scouted out the town, and happened upon an old ice cream parlor with the traditional soda fountain. So I started my late lunch/early dinner with a vanilla malt, visiting with a pleasant couple from Belen and the old gentleman who ran the ice cream parlor (which like Adolf Baca and the Owl Café, seemed like a labor of love more than a business).
I had been dreading the 20-mile climb from Carrizozo to Capitan, knowing that my legs would be tired and my energies low at that point in the ride. This last leg of the ride involves a gentle 10-mile or so gradual climb, then about three miles of tough work getting to the top of Indian Divide (at 6,940 feet, it’s about 1,500 feet above Carrizozo), then the welcome coast into Capitan.
The iPod helped take the mind off the unchanging scenery during the main part of Day 6. I put on the soundtrack to Chariots of Fire to inspire me for that final climb.
As always, check out the Bikecapade photos at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.
From Socorro, I rode about 10 miles south on NM 1 to San Antonio. San Antonio, N.M., is a hamlet best known as the hometown of Conrad Hilton and the home of the Owl Café, world famous for its green chile hamburgers. But today it was only about 8:15 a.m. when I stopped at the Owl, so I settled on a cup of coffee. I sat at the bar (which once belonged to Hilton) since I was the only customer. Owner Adolf Baca, now 76, recounted the story he has surely told thousands of time before.
“I was 13 and I had to go outside to pee,” that July 16 morning. Suddenly the pre-dawn sky turn bright as noon and the earth shook. He ran back to bed having lost all desire to pee. Later he would find out he had been one of the witnesses of the first atomic bomb explosion, detonated about 35 miles southeast on White Sands Missile Range.
The story was well worth price of the coffee — but Mr. Baca wouldn’t even let me pay for that.
About an hour later I was able to pay that forward when a family from Long Island, N.Y. stopped at the Trinity Site historical marker where I was eating an apple. I told the couple and their teen-age son about the site, Mr. Baca’s story fresh in my mind, and highlighted some other tourist stops along their way. They had rented a car in Albuquerque and were taking a vacation through New Mexico.
The couple was apparently from Japan originally but had lived in the U.S. for about 20 years. They asked if anyone suffered illness from the Trinity Site explosion, and they recalled the horrible aftereffects suffered by the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
That was one of the few memorable moments on that eternally long stretch of 65 miles between San Antonio to Carrizozo. In a car, it would be just a long hour when you would turn up the car stereo and your passengers might nap. On a bike it’s forever. Nothing but flat, high-desert landscape with the mountains far in the distance east and west.
The lone stop along the way is a place called Bingham, which I think has a population of three and the main attraction is the Bingham Rock Shop, with thousands of rocks arrayed on metal stands in front of the shop. Shopping for rocks was a bit out of the question for a bicyclist, but I did have an intense interest in the Coke machine. The vending machine did not seem to work, so I rang the doorbell to the shop. A woman emerged from the double-wide trailer in back and said she just needed to plug the machine back in — she always unplugs it at night, she explained, “but they’re still cold,” she added. Apparently I was the first Coke customer of the day and it was already past noon. The rock shop did have the friendliest cats I have ever encountered, and their purring seemed particularly loud in the desert quiet.
At the east end of the basin is a steep hill after which begins the downhill approach into Carrizozo. A few miles before town is Valley of Fires State Park, an old lava flow that looks spectacular not so much because of the deep black volcanic rock, but the rich desert plants that thrive amid the rock. It’s the ultimate xeriscaping.
Carrizozo is also the first chance for a meal in 65 miles. I scouted out the town, and happened upon an old ice cream parlor with the traditional soda fountain. So I started my late lunch/early dinner with a vanilla malt, visiting with a pleasant couple from Belen and the old gentleman who ran the ice cream parlor (which like Adolf Baca and the Owl Café, seemed like a labor of love more than a business).
I had been dreading the 20-mile climb from Carrizozo to Capitan, knowing that my legs would be tired and my energies low at that point in the ride. This last leg of the ride involves a gentle 10-mile or so gradual climb, then about three miles of tough work getting to the top of Indian Divide (at 6,940 feet, it’s about 1,500 feet above Carrizozo), then the welcome coast into Capitan.
The iPod helped take the mind off the unchanging scenery during the main part of Day 6. I put on the soundtrack to Chariots of Fire to inspire me for that final climb.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Day 5 – Datil to Socorro
If a 74-mile day can be considered a rest day, this was it. U.S. 60 east from Datil stretches across the flat Plains of San Augustin, rises to the old mining town of Magdalena then continues level until a fast drop to the Rio Grande valley and the city of Socorro.
The actual distance between Datil and Socorro is only about 62 miles, but I took the 8-mile detour to the Very Large Array and also wandered around Socorro for four extra miles.
The National Radio Astronomy Observatory VLA is perhaps best known as the backdrop for part of the movie Contact with Jodie Foster. This is perhaps the most incongruous sight you may experience in the Southwest. Out in the middle of nowhere – and 15 miles east of Datil sure qualifies as nowhere – in the 7,000-foot-high plains of west-central New Mexico — arise an army of mammoth radio telescopes, 27 in all, each dish 25 meters in diameter, aligned on a Y-shaped configuration of railroads tracks extending 13 miles in each of the three directions.
Completed in 1980, the VLA is the largest such observatory of its kind. The 27 telescopes, which can be configured in four different ways, are tied together by computers so that they in effect form one gigantic telescope scanning the skies for radio waves emitted from cosmic sources that include distant galaxies, black holes and the Big Bang origin of the universe.
Standing at a rest area along U.S. 60 and chatting with an older couple from Monterrey, Mexico, we suddenly noticed that the line of telescopes to the north had rotated the dishes 180 degrees. All this is done by remote control by technicians working at the VLA.
The Visitors Center is 4 miles off U.S. 60 and well worth the bike ride. To be honest, the VLA is the main scenery on this leg of Bikecapade II so I figured it was a required side trip. I visited the VLA back in 1987, before the movie made it even more famous.
Along NM 52 leading to the Visitors Center, I saw my first “big game” of the trip. See for yourself at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=q0xr8qy.161e7da2&x=0&h=1&y=-t70kx&localeid=en_US
The Visitors Center offers a pleasant self-guided walking tour of the facility plus an informative film and various displays inside.
Magdalena is another 21 miles east on U.S. 60. I stopped to ask a pedestrian where to eat and he directed me to the Magdalena Café one block off the highway. Great recommendation. Like most restaurants in the small towns along this trip so far (and there generally is only one or two per town), the menu is basic: hamburgers and enchiladas. I decided in advance of this trip I had no hope of maintaining my normal vegetarian diet.
In Socorro, I also gave up any attempt to find a cute, quaint place to stay. I chose an Econo-Lodge for $35 that offered wi-fi and breakfast, and was next to a Walmart, Smith’s supermarket and Laundromat, all of which I took advantage of. The motel even had a well-equipped weight room, but I wasn’t feeling quite that rested.
I will need all the rest I can get for the next three days. Thursday will be a 96-mile ride that includes crossing the north end of the Tularosa Basin. There will be some climbing before the descent into Carrizozo, then some tough climbing to Nogal and Capitan.
For nearly all the trip until U.S. 60 I had kept my iPod in my handlebar bag. I listened to some music on the last part of Day 4 and then some more today. I will definitely be plugged in Thursday on the long haul between San Antonio, N.M. and Carrizozo.
The actual distance between Datil and Socorro is only about 62 miles, but I took the 8-mile detour to the Very Large Array and also wandered around Socorro for four extra miles.
The National Radio Astronomy Observatory VLA is perhaps best known as the backdrop for part of the movie Contact with Jodie Foster. This is perhaps the most incongruous sight you may experience in the Southwest. Out in the middle of nowhere – and 15 miles east of Datil sure qualifies as nowhere – in the 7,000-foot-high plains of west-central New Mexico — arise an army of mammoth radio telescopes, 27 in all, each dish 25 meters in diameter, aligned on a Y-shaped configuration of railroads tracks extending 13 miles in each of the three directions.
Completed in 1980, the VLA is the largest such observatory of its kind. The 27 telescopes, which can be configured in four different ways, are tied together by computers so that they in effect form one gigantic telescope scanning the skies for radio waves emitted from cosmic sources that include distant galaxies, black holes and the Big Bang origin of the universe.
Standing at a rest area along U.S. 60 and chatting with an older couple from Monterrey, Mexico, we suddenly noticed that the line of telescopes to the north had rotated the dishes 180 degrees. All this is done by remote control by technicians working at the VLA.
The Visitors Center is 4 miles off U.S. 60 and well worth the bike ride. To be honest, the VLA is the main scenery on this leg of Bikecapade II so I figured it was a required side trip. I visited the VLA back in 1987, before the movie made it even more famous.
Along NM 52 leading to the Visitors Center, I saw my first “big game” of the trip. See for yourself at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.
The Visitors Center offers a pleasant self-guided walking tour of the facility plus an informative film and various displays inside.
Magdalena is another 21 miles east on U.S. 60. I stopped to ask a pedestrian where to eat and he directed me to the Magdalena Café one block off the highway. Great recommendation. Like most restaurants in the small towns along this trip so far (and there generally is only one or two per town), the menu is basic: hamburgers and enchiladas. I decided in advance of this trip I had no hope of maintaining my normal vegetarian diet.
In Socorro, I also gave up any attempt to find a cute, quaint place to stay. I chose an Econo-Lodge for $35 that offered wi-fi and breakfast, and was next to a Walmart, Smith’s supermarket and Laundromat, all of which I took advantage of. The motel even had a well-equipped weight room, but I wasn’t feeling quite that rested.
I will need all the rest I can get for the next three days. Thursday will be a 96-mile ride that includes crossing the north end of the Tularosa Basin. There will be some climbing before the descent into Carrizozo, then some tough climbing to Nogal and Capitan.
For nearly all the trip until U.S. 60 I had kept my iPod in my handlebar bag. I listened to some music on the last part of Day 4 and then some more today. I will definitely be plugged in Thursday on the long haul between San Antonio, N.M. and Carrizozo.
Day 4 – Reserve to Datil
Check out the Bikecapade photo album at http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=q0xr8qy.161e7da2&x=0&h=1&y=-t70kx&localeid=en_US
There are two ways to get to Datil, N.M. from Reserve – the 67-mile direct way (which stays on NM 12) and the 97-mile way. The longer way takes you on NM 32 through the Gila and Apache National Forest, and connects with U.S. 60 at Quemado, and also adds Pie Town, N.M. to the itinerary. I chose the long way just because I wanted to go through Pie Town. By the time I got there, it was nearly 5 p.m. and both pie shops closed at 3 p.m.
Pie in Pie Town would have just been the dessert after a feast of the most spectacular scenery I’ve enjoyed on a bike. I had thought U.S. 180 was going to be the highlight of Bikecapade II as far as landscape, but I had no idea of the beauty of NM 32.
I left Reserve at about 7:30 a.m., and the temperature must have been below 40 degrees. I even had to put on my balacava (the ninja head warmer thing).
There’s a 12-mile ride east from Reserve on NM 12 before the turnoff to NM 32, and I stopped there at the Apache Creek Store for coffee and a cinnamon roll. The coffeepot wasn’t working so I had to buy a Starbucks Frappuccino from the cold drink section, borrow a mug and the microwave. Worked out fine.
NM 12 involves an 18-mile climb, rising to above 8,000 feet through rocky canyons. The trees are mostly evergreen, but some of the cottonwoods and a few other trees had begun taking on fall colors. I looked everywhere for deer and elk, but the only mammals I spotted were a few squirrels, plus one dead badger on the road. With as little traffic as there is on NM 12, that was one unlucky badger. I figure a car passed me about once every mile.
The ascent is quite steep at times, but the canyon walls and forest views made it all worthwhile. I even appreciated the longer time the slow uphill pace gave me to take it all in. The last climb was the first time this trip I used my special mountain gear in back – a 34-tooth cog – out of necessity.
Once past the summit, the road took me on a welcome downhill joyride to the plains leading to Quemado. Had lunch there, then rode one of the few flat stretches of the trip so far as I began my way to Pie Town. The road is mostly a gradual uphill grade, coming from Quemado (about 6500 feet) to the continental divide (7796), and finally a long downhill into Datil. Made it time to shower, eat and watch Tuesday night’s presidential debate. Had a huge enchilada casserole but ordered a piece of pie anyway, just to make up for the lost opportunity at Pie Town.
There are two ways to get to Datil, N.M. from Reserve – the 67-mile direct way (which stays on NM 12) and the 97-mile way. The longer way takes you on NM 32 through the Gila and Apache National Forest, and connects with U.S. 60 at Quemado, and also adds Pie Town, N.M. to the itinerary. I chose the long way just because I wanted to go through Pie Town. By the time I got there, it was nearly 5 p.m. and both pie shops closed at 3 p.m.
Pie in Pie Town would have just been the dessert after a feast of the most spectacular scenery I’ve enjoyed on a bike. I had thought U.S. 180 was going to be the highlight of Bikecapade II as far as landscape, but I had no idea of the beauty of NM 32.
I left Reserve at about 7:30 a.m., and the temperature must have been below 40 degrees. I even had to put on my balacava (the ninja head warmer thing).
There’s a 12-mile ride east from Reserve on NM 12 before the turnoff to NM 32, and I stopped there at the Apache Creek Store for coffee and a cinnamon roll. The coffeepot wasn’t working so I had to buy a Starbucks Frappuccino from the cold drink section, borrow a mug and the microwave. Worked out fine.
NM 12 involves an 18-mile climb, rising to above 8,000 feet through rocky canyons. The trees are mostly evergreen, but some of the cottonwoods and a few other trees had begun taking on fall colors. I looked everywhere for deer and elk, but the only mammals I spotted were a few squirrels, plus one dead badger on the road. With as little traffic as there is on NM 12, that was one unlucky badger. I figure a car passed me about once every mile.
The ascent is quite steep at times, but the canyon walls and forest views made it all worthwhile. I even appreciated the longer time the slow uphill pace gave me to take it all in. The last climb was the first time this trip I used my special mountain gear in back – a 34-tooth cog – out of necessity.
Once past the summit, the road took me on a welcome downhill joyride to the plains leading to Quemado. Had lunch there, then rode one of the few flat stretches of the trip so far as I began my way to Pie Town. The road is mostly a gradual uphill grade, coming from Quemado (about 6500 feet) to the continental divide (7796), and finally a long downhill into Datil. Made it time to shower, eat and watch Tuesday night’s presidential debate. Had a huge enchilada casserole but ordered a piece of pie anyway, just to make up for the lost opportunity at Pie Town.
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