There comes a time in every journey when you realize it's nearly over. Despite all appearances this isn't it. Today on the rolling steppe of the Eastern Navajo reservation in New Mexico I came over a rise and was surprised by the sudden aberration of the San Juans hovering over the Northern horizon like a brilliant cloud. Because of the lack of landmarks out here either foreground or middle- ground ,snow covered peaks ,even while still one hundred miles away or more, make a distinct impression. The impression is underlined by the realization that my home is up there. Up there is the end of this winter's cycling tour of the Western States.
If you were to trace this ride on a map it could be confusing. Rather than straight lines and definite objectives there would be curves, loops, ellipticals and diversions. The only discernable theme would be a route that ties together most of the best desert riding the American west has to offer joined to much of the best coastal riding along the Pacific.
Tomorrow morning I'll be in be in Farmington, noon at the latest. Once there a several day famine from WiFi will be over. I will pour over Facebook and maybe post some photos, check my email, and post this column. The desert doesn't offer a lot in the way of WiFi coverage , or even cell phone coverage. What it offers is a whole lot worth posting about. There are spectacular sunsets, and starry nights, coyote choruses, firey meteors, and overwhelming silence, nature's extravagance amid severe austerity. There are pronghorns, and javalina, ravens, and horned larks , lizards, tortoise, and roadrunners. Roadrunners are throwbacks to the age of dinosaurs. They rarely fly. They use their long legs for chasing lizards across the sand. Their motions are dinosaur-like and so is their general appearance. Unless you're a lizard that appearance is not really intimidating so most people don't make a big deal out of watching roadrunners . Replace those feathers with scales or flesh and the sight of them transports you back a hundred million years in time, an era so fitting to this scenery. Desert travel is time travel. This planet spent a tremendous amount of time doing nicely without us. It's revelatory to keep in touch with that reality. We're not that big a deal and we only just arrived. Here is where we do that.
I've managed to gain a few extra pounds lately, not in fat or muscle, in dust. The winds have been raging in Northern New Mexico this spring, as they do every spring. What's to stop them? That's how so much New Mexico soil, and Northern Arizona dust end up on our snow most springs. Maybe their loss is our gain but I'm not so sure. I like my snow white. I like me white too, or at least tanned. Instead I've become the color of the desert that surrounds me. So are my clothes. So is my gear. We are all color coordinated at last. All the bottle showers in the world won't remove it. I can feel fresh for an hour maybe, but the dust returns. I'm sort of a magnet for dust I suppose. A real bath would be nice, or a long hot shower. Some of the state parks in Utah have showers. That's all the more reason for heading back to Utah.
In all these years on a bike saddle I've never been blown over by wind. This spring, about three days ago, in Northern New Mexico I was able to cross that one off my list. I was on Old 66 closing in on Grants. Most of the day I'd enjoyed soul satisfying tailwind but I was making one of those curves I was talking about and now I had it against me. Against me is exactly the way to say it. This wind had it in for me. Suddenly a whirlwind grew around me. I took a glancing left then a powerful right hook that layed me out on the road before I knew what was happening. That may have been a blessing. If I tried to prevent injury I would probably caused it instead. I was alright, just shaken and sore for a few days.
I'm only rounding for home at this point. I'm not really headed there. It's too early in the season still. Spring arrives at different times in different places. At 9000 feet it can't be expected to arrive until some time in early May. That's when you can expect me to make the climb up the San Juans and intoTelluride. In the meantime there's more riding ahead, more curvy confusing paths to follow, ellipticals, loop-t-loops, and parabolas. More wind, more dust are in store, maybe another delightful fall, but so are moments of unusual beauty and transcendent peace. It all comes in one package.
If you were to trace this ride on a map it could be confusing. Rather than straight lines and definite objectives there would be curves, loops, ellipticals and diversions. The only discernable theme would be a route that ties together most of the best desert riding the American west has to offer joined to much of the best coastal riding along the Pacific.
Tomorrow morning I'll be in be in Farmington, noon at the latest. Once there a several day famine from WiFi will be over. I will pour over Facebook and maybe post some photos, check my email, and post this column. The desert doesn't offer a lot in the way of WiFi coverage , or even cell phone coverage. What it offers is a whole lot worth posting about. There are spectacular sunsets, and starry nights, coyote choruses, firey meteors, and overwhelming silence, nature's extravagance amid severe austerity. There are pronghorns, and javalina, ravens, and horned larks , lizards, tortoise, and roadrunners. Roadrunners are throwbacks to the age of dinosaurs. They rarely fly. They use their long legs for chasing lizards across the sand. Their motions are dinosaur-like and so is their general appearance. Unless you're a lizard that appearance is not really intimidating so most people don't make a big deal out of watching roadrunners . Replace those feathers with scales or flesh and the sight of them transports you back a hundred million years in time, an era so fitting to this scenery. Desert travel is time travel. This planet spent a tremendous amount of time doing nicely without us. It's revelatory to keep in touch with that reality. We're not that big a deal and we only just arrived. Here is where we do that.
I've managed to gain a few extra pounds lately, not in fat or muscle, in dust. The winds have been raging in Northern New Mexico this spring, as they do every spring. What's to stop them? That's how so much New Mexico soil, and Northern Arizona dust end up on our snow most springs. Maybe their loss is our gain but I'm not so sure. I like my snow white. I like me white too, or at least tanned. Instead I've become the color of the desert that surrounds me. So are my clothes. So is my gear. We are all color coordinated at last. All the bottle showers in the world won't remove it. I can feel fresh for an hour maybe, but the dust returns. I'm sort of a magnet for dust I suppose. A real bath would be nice, or a long hot shower. Some of the state parks in Utah have showers. That's all the more reason for heading back to Utah.
In all these years on a bike saddle I've never been blown over by wind. This spring, about three days ago, in Northern New Mexico I was able to cross that one off my list. I was on Old 66 closing in on Grants. Most of the day I'd enjoyed soul satisfying tailwind but I was making one of those curves I was talking about and now I had it against me. Against me is exactly the way to say it. This wind had it in for me. Suddenly a whirlwind grew around me. I took a glancing left then a powerful right hook that layed me out on the road before I knew what was happening. That may have been a blessing. If I tried to prevent injury I would probably caused it instead. I was alright, just shaken and sore for a few days.
I'm only rounding for home at this point. I'm not really headed there. It's too early in the season still. Spring arrives at different times in different places. At 9000 feet it can't be expected to arrive until some time in early May. That's when you can expect me to make the climb up the San Juans and intoTelluride. In the meantime there's more riding ahead, more curvy confusing paths to follow, ellipticals, loop-t-loops, and parabolas. More wind, more dust are in store, maybe another delightful fall, but so are moments of unusual beauty and transcendent peace. It all comes in one package.
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