Guy Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages

Adventures in Sport Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT

Exploring North America...One Road at a Time

Day 3
October 3rd, 2009    
Bottomless Lake State Park
Near Roswell, New Mexico

I had a pleasant sleep the night before, the cool desert air was not too hot and not too cold.  Early Fall is a nice time to visit this part of the country.  I groped out of my tent at first light, the sky was cloudy with definite rain off in the West.  "This ain't good, I need a radar look before committing to anything."

A rabbit hopped over to me looking for something to eat, but all I had was a few gummy worms.  I tossed him a few but he didn't partake.  "I guess with all this free grub around he can chose to be picky."

After breaking camp I spoke to my neighbors from Michigan.  "Yall have a safe trip and be good," as I checked over my site to see if I'd left anything.  "We will, and take care," the man responded.  Satisfied I hadn't forgotten anything I put my helmet on, then my glasses and fired the RT up.  She rumbled to life on this cloudy morning and we were underway.  I have a custom route through the Capitan Mountains, but wasn't sure I'd be able to go that way.  "If the rain is isolated, I'll go as plan, if not I'll do something else."

At the intersection of 409 and 380 I reset trip meter B.  "A guy has to know how far he went at the end of the day."

Five miles from Roswell I hit a light rain.  It dotted the screen, and stung my face.  I reached up and pulled the shield down on the Arai.  

I pulled into downtown Roswell and came off route to find a McDonald's.  I was sure to find a fast connection there, and I could find out what was going on.  The city has a UFO thing, and they market that pretty well.  I chuckled when I thought how some people think the federal government actually has alien bodies hiden around here.

Passing through one of the downtown intersections a FedEx truck blew by a redlight.  A building on the corner hid him from view till the last 2 seconds.  The light was green on my approach, but being the savy Long Rider I am, I slowed, and checked up even though I had the green light.  He shot by me so fast it startled me, even though I was looking for him.  The extra caution saved me from serious injury on worse on this morning.

A steady rain was falling when I found the MCdonald's parking lot.  I left the RT in a spot I could watch it and went on in, with my GPS, atlas, and Ipone in hand.  I ordered a Dr. Pepper and hash browns, and sat at a table.  The restaurant was decorated in a UFO motif.  The dining room was made to look the bridge of a space ship.

First I went to the Iphone to exam the rain situation, sure enough it showed Roswell on the far edge of a large mass of rain that was located right where I was routed to ride. 

Next I took out my atlas, combined with the Iphone I could plot a course where it wasn't raining.  Riding in the mountains in the rain is not my idea of a good ride, I was definitely not going that way.  Best I could tell the rain was situated between I-25 and U.S. 285, and as far south as Mexico, so that direction was out also.  "I can go 285 to U.S. 60 to I-20, and pick my original route back up in Socorro.  It will add 100 miles to the day, but so what, better then a long ride in the rain."  It was time for Zumo now, so I pulled it out and put in the course.

When I finished I saw 2 guys in 30s or 40s looking some UFO literature.  My guess they were plotting out the strategy that would give them the best chance to see aliens.  I spoke to a guy with a funny hat and round glasses-

"So what are y'all doin?"

"Just checking some notes"

"Y'all came to Roswell looking for UFO's?"

"Well kind of, we have a couple of books here with the best theories, and they have places of interest to see.  What about you?"

Sensing I was about to try to be converted, I met the challenge head on.  "Me?  I'm just passin through, I spent the night here, only cos a good state park close by."

"You don't believe in UFOs?"

"I'll do ya one better, I don't believe in anything or anyone out here in this universe but US humans, ain't noway they got dead aliens on a table in Roswell, New Mexico, haha y'all are too much.  Now why God made it that way I can't tell ya, perhaps He just wanted to give us sumptin to do."

"you know you really should read up on the subject, did you know papers here reported several strange things that night"

"Didn't I see y'all in Dealey Plaza a couple years ago, talking about the sniper in the grassy knoll?"

"Very funny, but there are aliens watching us"

"yeah right, I ain't tellin ya folks not seeing stuff, but there are no space ships flying around Phoenix."

It was a hopeless debate so I dropped it and went back to reading the headlines.

"Well time to get started, this 400 mile day has now turned into 500 miles."  I topped off the RT at a gas station on 285 just inside the city limits, and pointed the RT north on U.S. 285 when I finished.

Within a few miles of riding north on 285 I ran out of the rain, just as the radar said I would.  The route is very lonely on a Saturday morning.  It is 4 lane divided and fast if you choose to risk it.  I didn't, so put the 1200 on cruise control at 75 mph.  There was not one thing to see out here.  I did ride by Meade, it was a closed down store, and old house.  "I guess it doesn't take much to get on Garmin around here."

           U.S. 285 north of Roswell.  I said it was lonely.           

I met a south bound FJR and 3 sport bikes, and everyone waved at me.

The only thing of any substance on 285 is a place called Ramon, located halfway between Roswell and U.S. 60.  It is mostly a railroad center of the Santa Fe.  It was along ride on 285, miles and miles of desert and scraggly bushes.

I made it into Vaughn and went to U.S. 60, but not before a gaggle of confusion. The Zumo was telling me to turn, but I saw no place to do so, but understanding every once in a while GPS just does crazy stuff, I stayed with it till I found it pointing me in the right direction. 

 My plan to ride around the rain was working well, I was going up and over it and then drop down behind it.  A short ride later on 60 the sun broke out.  I was now in partly cloudy skies, and the road was good.  I passed a red car of some kind with 4 teenage boys, I thought they might give me a hard time but they didn't, but yes, I profiled them.

U.S. 60 cuts a long path across New Mexico and Arizona, over mountains and valleys, it is home to alot of nice country.

                   This mountain is located near U.S. 60

Mountainair seemed to offer more then most in these parts, and I was looking for a place to take my morning break, and to top off the tank, which was now showing a quarter.  Dangerous stuff in this area of the country, it can easily be 50 miles to the next gas station.

I found a local store on the west side of town and pulled in.  The best the station could do was 87 octane, the RT wanted at least 90, same as the Honda, I know the Honda will work on less, but didn't know about the RT.  "I'll just put 10 in to get me to Socorro and then I'll get something else."  After gassing up I went to the side and bought a beef jerky and Moutain Dew.  I had a signal and reported in to Debbie, and sent my son a text.

"nah baby I dunno when I'm gonna get to Show Low, I had to make a weather detour this morning."

"are you stopped for lunch?"

"noooo just taking a butt break"

"ok, promise to call me at lunch, I'm going to get busy around here."

After recent events in Prattville, she seemed to be unduly worried, so I was calling her even more then usual.  

While eating beef jerky about 15 Harleys came by, half riding with a pillion.  Mountainair is one of the bigger villages on U.S. 60 east of I-25, but I wouldn't call it a thriving metropolis.

By now I could feel the sunburn on my cheeks, and had the distinct outline of my Arai and Oakleys on my face.  I had white around my eyes, and red cheek and face bones,  the intense desert sun of the last few days, marking me.  It lets people know I've come a long way.

Before leaving I visually checked the rear tire.  It was in good shape and no nails, but felt a little mushy.  PSI was good, "guess it was  my imagination, "probably because I'm so paranoid about flats after having a run of bad luck recently.  I noted the air hose had the correct nozzle, so I went ahead and added a few more lbs.  On a long tour, loaded, and running high speeds hours on end, I run my psi about 8 over what spec calls for.  It has worked well for me.

A Latino gentlemen on his way into the store commented on the RT, "nice looking bike amigo,"

"thanks"

My plan for today was Show Low in time for the 5pm Mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church, but I could see that wasn't going to happen, so it looks I'll go to Church on Sunday morning. 

Leaving the parking lot a pick up pulling a horse trailer beat me out, but I quickly came around him a half mile later.

I stayed on 60 to I-25 and road south to Socorro, where I exited and had chicken nuggets at McDonalds.  I was late, and it was quick and dirty.  I called Debbie as promised and got back on the road.  I could still see rain in the mountains east of the city.  "man, glad I did a end run on that, I'd still be up there wet and cold if not for my Iphone."

I'd been on this section of 60 back in 2003, that year I ate lunch in Datil, and rode on to Phoenix.  This time I'm going to turn south at SR 12, and ride into the Tullarsoa Mountains, via the Plains of San Augustin.

The thriving community of Magdalena, New Mexico can
be found on U.S. 60.

The restaurant at the intersection of 60 and 12 where I stopped that day was still in business, I fondly remember a young muchchacha filling water glasses.  I had places to go and things to see on this day, so skipped stopping in to see how she had grown up.  I kind of regret it now.

SR 12 offered nice vistas of the mountains and meadows, but not all that twisty, enough lean to keep you interested, but nothing more.

                The view from SR 12.  Good riding.

I was on the side taking a picture when a Catron County Deputy in a black SUV stopped to check on me-

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah I was just taking a few pics, thats for checkin on me"

"no problem"

The afternoon was slipping away and I continued on in the soft looking but rugged mountains.  The temp was noticeably cooler than the air around I-25.

SR 12 goes over the Continental Divide without a lot of
fanfare east of Aragon.  Just this small sign to mark the 
milestone.

In Reserve, I bought gas at a place called "Henry's Corner," a combination store/deli/gas station.  After the fill up I went inside and found a table to eat a bag of chips chased by a Mountain Dew.  The store was managed by a young high school girl whose family was from Texas.

I was paying for my snack and said, "how ya doin?"

"oh you're Southern, not from Texas are you?"

"nooo Alabama, but why?"

"I'm from Fort Worth!"  As if we were next door neighbors.

"I see, and how does a Texas girl wind up in a place like Reserve?"

"Divorce, my step dad is from here."

"so how's it working out for ya," as I walked over to a table.

"Its awful, I wanna go home"

I took my seat, and she remained behind the counter, we chatted from across the room for a few minutes.  I really needed to call home, but didn't want to seem rude, I was probably the only customer for the last hour and she was bored.  I was a little uncomfortable with the situation and was relieved when a man came in and sat at the next table.  He had on a white shirt and cowboy hat.

I spoke out to him, "what's the deer situation around here?"  I'm still more scared of deer more then any motorist.

"not too bad right now, but you don't wanna be on the road after dark."

"I'll keep that in mind"

I rose up with my phone and and coat, and told the young lady at the counter, "good luck sweetie, I'm sure it will all work out"

"thanks"

SR 12 ended at U.S. 191 and the 550 directed me make a right turn.  The road grew twisty and I moved the RT's suspension to the sport position, and brought the screen full down.  I got in some good leans but nothing I'd call aggressive.  I heeled the 1200 through a canyon before breaking back out into sunshine at the top of a hill.

             U.S. 191 took this dive through a canyon.

A short ride later I went to SR 273 and into the Alpine forest of the White Mountains.  The temp dropped into the low 50s.  "I must be moving up in elevation," so I tabbed the view on the Zumo, sure enough elevation was 8,000 feet and moving up quick.  I pulled the collar of the Roadcrafter, and really needed to switch to lined gloves but didn't feel like stopping.

             I got in some good leans on U.S. 191

For the first time I was beginning to see Fall colors.  Aspens were turning lemon and lit up the hills.  Traffic was also lighting up and I got bogged down coming through the reservation that 273 nicks in the eastern corner.  It got worse when a lady on the phone locked down 15 cars at 40 mph all the way to Pinetop.

                      Entering the White Mountains

I was idling through when I noticed a bank displaying the time, it was only 4:30 not 5:30!  I might still make it to church.  I pulled off at a drugstore parking lot, and went to work on the zumo.  I went to the Food/lodging>community>places of worship, and found Our Lady of Guadalupe and tapped it.  Time of arrival 4:55.  I knew Mass was at 5 from previous research.  So I took off briskly.

                   I found this scene along U.S. 273

In a hurry to make it to church, I shot by a white SUV with something on the side panel, "uh oh, cop with laser, I'm toast," but in actuality it was a lady selling fruit out of the back of her car.

I pulled in the parking lot, at 4:55, secured my stuff, and made my way in.  Catholic Churches are informal, but riding gear was something new.  "Well I'm sure the Lord would rather have me here in riding gear then not at all."  I took a pew in the back so as not to draw attention and make folks behind me ask, "why does he have on those kind of pants?"

When the service was over, I picked my helmet off a chair I had placed it in the entrance, and made my way out, on the way several parishioners commented, "nice to have you with us today."

It was almost dark now and I still had to find the campground.  The zumo said it was only 4 miles away, a state park called "Fool Hollow Lake."  The cool night was closing in on me quickly.

I was hungry and was in the mood for pizza.  Once again I went to my GPS and found  a Pizza Hut was 2 miles away.  I can't say enough how nice GPS is-when its working.

At the Pizza Hut I put the RT on the curb on the pick up window side to make it easy for me to keep a eye on it while I ate.  My waiter was a young man that rode sport bikes.

"I don't see how y'all ride all those miles, I have no desire to do that"

"it ain't that big a deal, its just in what ya like"

"I guess so"

I called home.  "I'm in Show Low and just out of church, in a Pizza Hut eating supper"

 "that sounds too good"

"it is, garlic bread and personal pan pepperoni"

"Did you have a good day today?" she asked

"yeah it was fun, good ride, but now I gotta set up camp in the dark"

"is that hard?"

"it can be, just hard too see stuff, goin down in the 40s here tonight"

"I though you were in the desert?"

"I am kinda, but in the mountains right now, and the desert still gets cold at night"

She thinks desert is like the movies.  "oh ok, call me in the morning."

"I will, but if you don't hear anything don't be concerned, I'm going to be in places where signals might not be"

I left the sport rider a 3 dollar tip and followed the GPS directions to the campground.  It took me through the city, "what kinda campground is in downtown?"  I went by a couple of schools, up a long hill, and past a neighborhood, till I found the front gate.

It was after 8pm, the rangers had long gone.  I put my fee in the box and noted on the white board, "Gusty winds over 50 mph expected tomorrow, no fires."  "well that ain't good considering where I'm going."

A long road to the tent sites follows the front gate, and when I found the designated tent area it was packed solid.  The place looked like a refugee camp.  I rode up and down the line in the dark till I finally spotted empty site.

All in a all it was a nice site.  I backed the RT down a paved pad, to make it easy to unload and load and ride out.  Large oil spots covered the pavement, they were fresh and slippery. "Dang what kind of jalopy was parked HERE last night?"

I rode 505 miles.

Despite having set my tent up a hundreds of times, I had a hard time in the dark, but I got it.  After squaring away my bed, I cleaned the screen on the RT, and then went for a shower.  It felt cooler then 46 degrees.

A family was in the site next to me, I could see them through the bushes.  They reminded me of the Simpsons.  

I went in the tent about 9:30pm and listened to music and web surfed.  I hadn't whiffed a 3G connection all day, so putted with a Edge connection.

The wind started blowing in soon after I zipped the tent up, and I could feel the temps dropping, but my sleeping bag and pad were good, and off to sleep I went.

Next- wind ride back east, Petrified National Park