Last night we stayed at a big hotel that was part of a casino in Española. So big that we were on the second floor and for the first time, the Bayer Mobile was not parked right outside our room. I think that’s why I didn’t sleep well. I guess I tend to worry about such things. Or my difficulty sleeping could have been the off-and-on smell of cigarette smoke (this was supposed to be a no-smoking room on a no-smoking floor).

Today’s ride started going north on Highway 68 which is a four-lane highway leading from Española to Taos. It’s very busy, so I didn’t want to be on it. Fortunately, I was able to take left onto a side road through San Juan Pueblo after about a block on 68. After a couple of turns, I ended up on county road 582 which was a nice road along the Rio Grande River. It’s narrow, but on a Saturday morning, I think I was passed by only a half dozen cars or so.

After about 13 miles, 582 dumps out onto highway 68. So I had to do a stretch on 68 after all. It turned out to be not so bad, at least for a while. The shoulder had improved considerably — a lot less gravel and glass. But, 68 narrowed to 2 lanes and when it did it entered a narrow canyon and it also lost its nice shoulder. I had six miles to go until I got to my turn off of 68 and onto highway 75 which was much quieter and a lot less traffic.

Between Dixon (near the junction of 68 and 75) and the Picuris Pueblo (where Pat and I agreed to meet for lunch), the road kicks up and begins a long climb to about 7500 feet. I had dressed for the 40 degree early morning weather in Española and now it was probably 60 degrees and I was working pretty hard up the climb. I stopped to take off a layer, but when I did, I realized it was actually still quite chilly because of a tailwind.

Pat had made me a great sandwich — ham and cheese on cinnamon/raisin bagel. Mmmmm! Either ham and cheese on cinnamon/raisin bagel is undiscovered high cuisine or so much cycling has changed the way I look at food. I’m not sure which.

After lunch, my instructions were “no turns.” Unfortunately, my instructions should have been “no turns off of highway 75.” As I left the Pueblo, there was an intersection in which highway 75 took a hard right and straight ahead was highway 73. So, I went straight ahead. I went about 3 miles out and began wondering if this was really the right road. I was taking a definite turn to the south and I didn’t recall seeing that on the map. I was thinking “I have to start carrying SOME kind of map with me.” I went up a couple of switchbacks, checked the cellphone to see if there was a signal. No luck. So I continued, thinking “she said ‘No turns’, so this must be the right way.” Well, about 4 miles out the pavement ended. That was a sure sign that I wasn’t on the road I should be on. I saw a postman delivering mail. I asked him where the road to Mora was. He told me to go back to the stop sign (the one where 75 took a sharp turn) and take a right.

Back on 75, the road immediately went up, but not for long. It descended into Vadito and then began a long, very gradual climb to about 9500 feet elevation over the next 25 miles. There was a surreal moment on the road as I passed the Sipapu Ski Resort. I was riding my bicycle (and keeping quite warm doing it) and not 100 feet from me, people were skiing and snowboarding. People at both ends of this scene were staring at the other end wondering “What are you, crazy?”

From my topographic maps, I knew this route climbed to above 9000 feet in elevation. Well, I was in a long wide valley at about 9200 feet and I was thinking this must be the top. But, when I rounded the corner, I saw another climb. As I started the climb, I rounded another corner and then I could see that it topped out. There was a sign warning truck drivers to use a lower gear — a sure sign of the end of the climb. So I stopped for a rest at the top. I figured this spot is significant because it’s probably the high point in the tour and it’s probably the last of the mountains until we reach the Appalachian range in the east. I leaned the bike up against a road sign so I could get the camera out and set up for a picture. I looked down and there was a small marker in the ground (see photo to the right). I leaned over to read it — 9670 feet. Yep, this is definitely the high point of the tour. But, SO CLOSE to 10,000 feet! It made me want to climb the slope to my left to get those last 330 feet.

Pictures taken, I started an awesome descent of about 8 miles into the Mora Valley. About 10 miles from the end, I met Pat coming the other way on her bicycle. She was having a rough bicycle ride — against the wind and uphill. She turned around at that point and we rode together to the Mora Inn (strangely enough, in the town of Cleveland not Mora).

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 9th, 2006 at 8:43 pm and is filed under The Dream Tour, Bicycling. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.