Marital harmony was restored

June 17, 2016 to June 18, 2016

Days Seventeen and Eighteen: A Meadow at 9,800 Feet to Abiquiu, New Mexico

As expected, I got cold in the night, and woke up a few times. My 35 degree bag was not cutting it, and we’re not even in Colorado yet.

Elk invaded our campsite once, and woke both of us, but they ran off after I yelled at them to “Go home!”

Filtering water in the morning. I requested that Joy take this photo so there is evidence that I did in fact do chores in camp.

After breaking camp, we got back on Forest Road 27, which continued to be extremely rocky. And now there was a new wrinkle — enormous ruts.

Back on the “road”. Now with extra-deep ruts!

In what was perhaps the understatement of the decade, Joy noted that “It’s hard to pick a line with these ruts.” I grunted in agreement as I tried not to fall into one of the two-feet- deep valleys in the road.

Most of the morning we were either descending or riding on a flat mesa, and while it was bowel-loosening rough, at least we weren’t trying to ride UP this surface. It would be terribly difficult riding this section in the other direction.

The cows do not seem troubled by the tree growing in the middle of the road.

Once up on the mesa, we stopped on the side of the road and I noticed a faded, 1970's-vintage Dr. Pepper can on the ground. I aborted further investigation when Joy advised me that “a dangerous spider probably lives in that thing.”

Old Dr. Pepper can, perhaps from a time, decades earlier, when Forest Road 27 was actually maintained.

At one point we rode on lava for a while. I can report that lava is no easier to ride on than regular rocks.

Eventually the road turned into plain old New Mexico gravel, and we made a long, long descent into Abiquiu on what was, unfortunately, teeth-rattling washboard.

Halfway down, Joy stopped beside me and said that she was making the decision right now that we will certainly not return to ride the New Mexico route again. Not on the tenth anniversary of this trip, and not ever.

She really, really hates washboarded gravel.

The gravel turned to pavement as we reached the outskirts of Abiquiu. We stopped first at the famous Bode’s general store, which, as pretty much the only place to buy anything in the area, was bustling.

I had a cell phone signal again, so while we sat on a bench outside the store I tried to contact a campground that was supposed to be a few miles out of town. Nobody answered after multiple calls, so we rode a mile down the road to the other option: The fancy and expensive Abiquiu Inn, where I blanched upon hearing the price, but gulped hard and handed the man my credit card, because I really really did not feel like dry camping in a field again.

After checking into our tastefully decorated adobe unit (this was one of the classiest, and for sure the most expensive, hotel, I’ve ever stayed in on a bike tour), we got cleaned up, did a few chores, and then I removed the beard, a failed experiment that had, in recent days, begun to cause marital discord.

Joy hated the beard, but refused to come out and state that, and I felt a compulsion to ask several times a day what she thought of it. For example:

“How do you like the beard now?”

“Does the beard make me look old?”

“I think the beard is getting softer. Do you want to touch it?”

“Why do you hate the beard?”

Most of the time her response to these questions, if there was a response at all, was an annoyed grunt.

It took 20 painful minutes with a dull razor and no shaving cream, but I got rid of the beard, and immediately looked 20 years younger. Marital harmony was restored.

We had a late lunch at the restaurant at the inn, then rested for a while in our cool room. It was over 100 degrees outside, and, unsurprisingly, no one was enjoying the inn’s tasteful outdoor sitting areas.

Later on, Joy rode her bike to Bode’s store to get supplies, and while she was away I walked back to the inn’s front desk and reserved another day. It was supposed to be over 100 degrees again tomorrow, and it didn’t matter if “It’s a dry heat” (a phrase I never want to hear again): I didn’t want to ride tomorrow.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed pleasantly. Joy was especially happy because she finally got the “big, juicy hunk of meat” she’d been craving (a rib-eye steak) when she had dinner at the inn’s restaurant.

Our day off was mostly spent in our room, except for trips to the restaurant and to Bode’s store, where, I discovered, they make really good breakfast burritos.

Today's ride: 27 miles (43 km)
Total: 591 miles (951 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	6
Comment on this entry	Comment	0