The Parker Pony Truss Bridge on old Route 66, built in 1936. “Safe Load 15 Tons”
A closer view of the Santa Maria Mission church, easily visible from I-40.
The interior of the very traditional church, photographed through a window
I have lacked a decent New Mexico road map, so leaving Grants I depended on Google Maps’ route mapping for cycling, and that turned out to be a mistake. I followed the old Route 66, which paralleled the interstate highway. In the tiny town of San Fidel I stopped to photograph a sign for “Geezerville” and ended up talking with the gezer himself, Doug Johnson. He lamented the lack of safe shoulders for the many cyclists who passed by, and I told him about Adventure Cycling’s current work to create a Route 66 bicycle route and maps, and suggested that he consider making his now-closed antique shop into a hostel or waystation for cyclists. He was excited by the idea and the possibilities. Before I left he insisted that I wear his fluorescent dayglo flagman’s vest while on the roads to Albuquerque, which I did with the promise to mail it back once home.
The White Arrow Garage on old Route 66
Doug Johnson at home in Geezerville, San Fidel NM
Rural New Mexico
The Budville Trading Post, built around 1938
A wide, smooth shoulder and beautiful scenery… too bad it was the wrong road.
At Laguna Pueblo, however, I was directed north on “Old Stage Highway 279”. It followed the heavily-used railroad tracks for awhile, so I was miles up the road before I realized that the sun was on my left, meaning that I was heading northwest instead of east. By the time I had flagged down a road crew for directions and ridden back to Route 66, I had ridden 16 miles out of my way.
This meant that I would be running out of daylight well before leaving pueblo land, so at a convenience store I approached a tribal police officer getting gas and asked for help. His offer was quick and easy: head a few miles farther to Mesita and camp in the police station’s parking area. That’s what I did, after yet another four mile overshoot and double back. I set up my tent behind a utility trailer, with a yard light illuminating my tent enough to see by, and was left alone there.
In the morning I discovered that I had picked up about two dozen goatheads in my tires from riding across the parking lot. I pulled all of them out of the tires, and none had punctured the tubes. These (German) Schwalbe Big Ben tires are the finest I have ever ridden. After 2,500 miles they show little wear, are consistently round and even, and are very comfortable. The little trailer tire had about three goatheads. all of which eventually punctured the ordinary tire and needed to be patched.
Laid-back Nathaniel and I at UNM. He rides and loves my old 1987 Schwinn Cimarron mountain bike, as it rides very capably around campus and town but looks so funky that it’s unlikely to be stolen.
From Mesita I rode 22 miles on the shoulder of the interstate, as there was simply no alternative route. This wasn’t a problem – the shoulder was wide, smooth, and safe, just boring. Finally I dropped down “nine mile hill” on Central Avenue, the old Route 66 into Albuquerque, and rode to the UNM campus, where I met up with oldest son Nathaniel.