Roadgypsy

Sign of the Beast

The edited version of this story first appeared in Motorcycle Mojo Magazine

SPECIAL EDITION 2004 Volume 3, Issue 3

New Mexico -The Land of Enchantment. I’ve been to the Southwest several times by bike. To me, the southwest is a land of such diversity. Snowcapped mountains, barren red-rock formations, evergreens and flowing streams - all these features combined with rich native history make for an unbeatable riding experience. And the “guaranteed” riding weather - hot and sunny- is just a bonus...

There is just so much to see and experience when in the Southwestern United States. From Nebraska, heading into Denver, Colorado, I feel a rush of excitement every time at the sight of the snowcapped mountains off in the distance. Until my first trip down there back in 1994, I had never seen these breathtaking wonders...

Heading south on Highway 25 brings you to Colorado Springs. My first visit to this fair city was marked by sniperfire - but I wasn’t about to let this deter me. As I sat at a set of streetlights, my good reasoning told me that what I had just heard sounded like gunfire. In fact, that’s what it turned out to be. I later read in the local paper that there was a sniper on the loose pot-shotting at drivers. (and, favoring my tummy like I do, the good food there made up for that little bit of excitement - cantinas downtown treat one to authentic Mexican cooking, prepared by authentic Mexican moms, and no gunfire was going to get in the way of my appetite! ) Also worth mentioning here is The Rocky Mountain Motorcycle Museum and Hall of Fame. On display inside this custom motorcycle shop (which is run by an all volunteer staff I might add) is a collection of antique motorcycles, including Indian, Harley Davidson, Vincent and a host of others. For all you history buffs there are the displays of photographs, posters, literature, motorcycle clothing and lots of other motorcycle related memorabilia. From here, for a good ride (be prepared to kill an afternoon on this run - the hairpin turns slow you down due to the tour buses) take Highway 115 out of Colorado springs and ride to Penrose at Highway 50. A note here - there is a toll bridge at Canyon City which crosses Arkansas River, so have your change handy! Riding West through Canyon City, continue on to Salida, following Highway 50 to Gunnison. The scenery gets interesting around Salida, where the continental divide waits for you ahead. A worthwhile detour, this scenic drive should not be missed if heading to New Mexico. At Montrose, you’ll turn and head south on highway 550, again riding alongside the Great Divide through the Hollywood hideaway locales of Ouray and Telluride.

Now I must tell you - I’ve been in this neighborhood several times, and so have entered New Mexico from North, West and East sides. Therefore there are several things to mention here. If entering from Southwestern Colorado, it is worthwhile to take a short detour along Highway 160 to the Four Corners Monument. It is the only point in the U.S. common to four corners, the corners being Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico.

Heading south on Highway 666 will bring you to Gallup, New Mexico. Situated along the historic Route 66 strip, Gallup is well known for its history of trading as well as its Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonials. Traditional Native dancers in full costume may be seen every evening at 7:00 at the open square, downtown. It’s free and bring your camera. There’s also the many trading posts where traditional Navajo jewelry, rugs and artwork may be purchased. One historic site that’s a must-see is the El Rancho Hotel. Spend the night, or just dine out, but either way, the walls inside boast a large collection of photographs taken of celebrities who have visited there in the past, attracted by the many films shot in the region.

Highway 666 -The Devil’s Highway! On one occasion, upon leaving Gallup, I “accidentally” found myself on this famed strip of highway, heading north. With a certain uneasiness I rode the Devil’s Highway out of the state. I decided to do some digging thinking there must be some sort of evil attachment to this oddly numbered highway, and sure enough it turned out I was right. The straight, roadside-less highway combined with endless crossroads, big rigs and drunk drivers served to up the superstitious status of this lonely stretch of Navajo Reservation road. Apparently State Transportation and Highway Officials back in 1926 wanted to indicate that the highway was the sixth branch off Route 66. In so doing, the number became 666. The Navajo Indians have wanted the number changed for years now, due to the obvious Satanic connotation attached to it, so last year the highway was finally renamed U.S. 491. The minute word got out that the highway number was about to change, all but one of the highway’s “666” signs were ripped off - and I must admit, not even knowing at the time that the change in number was imminent, that same sinful idea had crossed my very own mind! (However, being of the somewhat superstitious kind myself, I thought better of it. I didn’t really relish the thought of the Devil coming along for the ride.)

Heading east on Interstate 40 gets busy with places to visit. You’ll cross the continental divide yet again before reaching Thoreau. After Thoreau there are several pueblos that dot the various reservations. One of these in particular piqued my interest enough to wander off the beaten path and take one of the guided tours there.

The Acoma Pueblo may be accessed by exiting off I-40 at exit 102. Once there, the visitors center offers various displays of Indian culture, history and land geographics. “One Thousand Years of Clay” is a permanent exhibit housed together with native crafts for purchase. The Acoma Pueblo, Sky City, is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the United States. During the ascent to the fortress it becomes clear why this location for a pueblo was chosen. It offers panoramic views of the surrounding mesas thereby making attack without being noticed, very difficult. One thing that really fascinated me during my visit was that even though I had paid for the guided tour (and the interpreter was excellent at his job - very informed and enthusiastic), there was nothing commercial about the inhabitants. The inhabitants of the pueblo were all a generation whose descendants also had lived and died there. Their lifestyle is totally self sufficient, and simple. What you see is what you get. There was absolutely nothing phony about life in this pueblo. These people were living rough, so to speak.

Photographs within the pueblo are permissible, but there are absolutely no photographs allowed to be taken of the gravesites, or inside the mission church. Photographing the exterior of the mission was allowed. These gravesites are considered to be sacred, and the church is said to be haunted. Being National Historic Landmarks, the mission and pueblo were built between 1629 and 1640 by hand carrying the materials up the steep slopes. I can’t even fathom it.

For a truly authentic Mexican experience, Albuquerque offers much for the visitor. Old Albuquerque hosts a huge variety of shopping boutiques - just about everything native-American can be found here - and the food! Well, need I say more? For all you Southwestern decorators this is a dream come true. With an already fully loaded machine I ended up having to ship home many of the items I found for my “Southwestern” rec-room. It was hard to stop when our selection of these authentic household items here at home is so limited. I’m sure that the bottoming-out of my shocks was directly due to the load of “junk” I decided I couldn’t live without for the next three weeks...

Slowly wrapping up the tour of New Mexico brought me to Santa Fe. Situated adjacent to I-25, either I just happened to end up in the rough end of town, or this is a rough town, I’m not really sure, but I wasn’t impressed. All I saw were newspapers floating alongside dirty curbs and rough looking people. Ya know that car commercial where the wife asks all the hoodlums how to find the on-ramp? Well you figure it out. (I’m sure anyone who knows a better side of this mentionable will tar my a--s over this negative review of Santa Fe.)

Now comes the good part - more scenic riding!! (And more junk to ship home.) Taking State Highway 68 offers the rider beautiful curvy roads all following the Rio Grande River. With lots of State Parks nearby, there’s no shortage of camping for the rugged types. Taos, the next stop for more junk, was an absolutely delightful stop. An artsy-fartsy town, it’s a bustling little spot alive with artists, crafters, musicians, and writers. Keep your eyes open here- it’s been known to be a popular destination for Hollywood stars and starlets. The buildings are all sand/coral colored, built in adobe style, coupled with bright turquoise touches, mixed in with every color of the rainbow. You really get the feeling here let me tell ya - and again the food is to die for. Did you know that green chile sauce is hotter than red? I always figured the other way around. I found out the hard way.

While in Taos, I had the rare opportunity to photograph an interesting bike parked down a sidestreet. The entire faring on the Kawasaki was carved out of wood. It had been fashioned to resemble a merry-go-round horse. Right away I started snapping away as though the thing might disappear before my eyes. The incredible detail and color was amazing to me - not to mention the probable weight of the thing. On the back of the bike was also a backrest, carved out of wood in the shape of an eagle - painted on it were the words “Woodcarver for Hire”. The guy’s name (Wolff) and phone number were also on the backrest. So recently I decided to see what I could find on the net - and lo and behold he has a website. You should see the stuff this guy carves - punch in Woodcarvings by Wolff, Taos and that’ll get you there.

More scenic riding carries you through Eagle Nest with it’s own scenic pull over spot, and finally Cimarron, located in Cimarron Canyon. Well, barely arriving in time to batten down the hatches, a vicious thunderstorm blew in, bringing with it some hail and near tornado conditions. With gutters quickly filling to capacity, I felt a little helpless for a bit, and vulnerable to lightening. Any of you reading this who know me well, know that while holding a sick fascination for thunderstorms I am also simultaneously terrified of them. And while also knowing that it’s really the lightening I should be afraid of, it was the intense crackling sound directly over my head that nearly sent me over the edge. There isn’t anywhere to hide in Cimarron - I found that one out the hard way too! I took shelter in a small craft shop owned by a gentleman named Woody Crumbo. An interesting man (not too hard to look at either I might add), he was an artist and creator of beautifully ornate crosses, made out of copper. He also had pieces of punched tinwork. A spiritual man, my conversation with him helped to ease the unease caused by the raging storm outside. He was of native heritage, which peoples he belonged to I didn’t find out unfortunately, but he must have come from good genes (and had on a pair of good ones too).

Another attraction here is the old St. James Hotel. Reputed to be haunted, I decided to dine there. I now wish I wouldn’t have been so cheap and spent the $90.00 to rent the “haunted room”. So in I go, and start playing the old antique piano they had in the hallway. Afterwards, to the Ladie’s Parlour I also went. While I’m in there, I get a whiff of this strange perfume all around me. The hostess had mentioned to me earlier that when the ghost “appears” (whatever that meant), a strange perfume fills the air. So, being intrigued but at the same time skeptical, I set about climbing around the inside of this washroom to see where the purposely piped-in perfume was coming from. I couldn’t find the freshener. So, proof enough for me, I was convinced that it had been the resident ghost, “appearing” before me because she enjoyed my musical performance.

I so love this area that at one time I had my bike painted in desert colors, covering it with Southwest murals. A beautiful paint job, done by a friend of mine, but so unusual that I couldn’t ride anywhere without being recognized. Having won several trophies for the paintwork, I finally had to paint it basic black so I could travel incognito. (It was during a ride when clients of mine pulled up alongside me on the three- lane way waving wildly at me with recognition that I decided to repaint the bike).

My trips to the Southwest have always held excitement, adventure and opportunities galore to meet wonderful people. I still keep contact with a couple I met on my first excursion down there. And that was an interestingly adventurous meeting too, but we’ll save that one for my book. Trouble is, there’s just too much to write about and not enough pages!