From Santa Fe, it’s a 730 mile ride to my La Quinta home – and nearly twice as far for Ray to ride to his home in Farragut, Tennessee.
It’ll take me three leisurely days. Ray will probably beat me home. What does that possibly say about me? Be gentle.
After a warm hug, we fire up the big bikes and head our separate ways.
***
I’m on my own now. Pretty sure I can make it, with the help of some good tunes from playlists I created on my iPod. The music will provide companionship over the next few days through speakers in my helmet.
I head south on I-25 for about 50 miles to Albuquerque, New Mexico’s largest town. Albuquerque, elevation 5,300 feet, straddles the Rio Grande River, and has a population of more than 555,000. It’s home to the University of New Mexico, Kirtland Air Force Base, Sandia National Laboratories, and Petroglyph National Monument.
The city is also home to the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, held annually in October. The nine-day event is one of the city’s largest tourist attractions, drawing more than 700 hot-air balloonists from all over the world.
It’s the world’s largest balloon festival. The event began in 1972 as the highlight of a 50th birthday celebration for local radio station KOB.
Albuquerque seems to bring out good things in music. Glen Campbell began his career here playing guitar in his uncle’s band in the 1950s. Pop singer Demi Lovato was born here. And, R&B singer Bo Diddley spent many of his later years living in Albuquerque. Click here to watch him sing “Who Do You Love?”
None of those artists has a place on my Harley music collections, so I bypass Albuquerque, turn west onto I-40, and head for Grants, about 75 miles to the west. I-40 here is actually part of the old Route 66, which I talked about on Day 1 of this ride, two weeks ago. Time flies.
***
After a record-setting (for me) 128 miles of Interstate Highway riding, I arrive in Grants. I normally avoid Interstates like the plague, but today, there’s no other way west. My issue with Interstates is not danger; it’s the visual boredom.
Grants, a former logging town, was known as America’s “Carrot Capital” in the mid 20th century. Holtville, California, now claims the same distinction. It’s unclear how that tie will be broken.
Creation of the Bluewater Reservoir helped develop agriculture in the area, and the region’s volcanic soils provided ideal conditions for farming. Beyond its carrot moniker, Grants is also home to a mining museum, which is next to Historic Route 66. The uranium mining boom here lasted until the 1980s, when the collapse of mining nearly ruined the town’s economy.
In Grants, I turn off I-40 / Route 66, and head south on NM-53 toward El Malpais National Monument and El Malpais National Conservation Area. The name El Malpais is from the Spanish term, malpais, meaning badlands. Malpais describes the extremely barren and dramatic volcanic field that covers much of the park’s area.
The road takes me through incredibly desolate areas. If I ran off the road, nobody would find me for weeks. I pass almost no vehicles for an hour or more.
When there is civilization along the roadside, it’s usually dilapidated Indian housing and commerce. Where there is life, there is poverty.
One such place I ride through is Zuni, on the Zuni Indian Reservation. It’s a dusty, barren town that reminds me of the isolation of so many Indian reservations.
I follow NM-53 west toward the state border, where it becomes AZ-61 when we enter Arizona.
As I cross the state line, it is immediately obvious the roads are far better maintained in Arizona. As I leave New Mexico, my personal impression is that it’s nickname could easily be changed to “Land of DIS-enchantment.” Just my opinion.
***
The road continues south to St. Johns, where I turn west toward Show Low, elevation 6,345 feet – tonight’s destination.
But first, after several hours of riding in mid-80 degree temperatures, I stop in St. John’s at TLC’s Family Kitchen. I get a large diet coke, my idea of proper hydration on a very hot, dry day.
Contrary to what you might think, riding a Harley on a hot day is not the least bit refreshing. It feels like riding in a blast furnace. Can’t wait to ride into La Quinta Saturday when it’s 110, or whatever!
Forty-five minutes later, I roll into Show Low.
According to the legend, Show Low was named after a marathon poker game between Coryden Cooley and Marion Clark in 1875. The two men decided there was not enough room for both of them in their settlement, so they agreed to let a game of cards decide who was to move.
The game was played in the kitchen of Cooley’s home.
As the tale goes, Clark said, “If you can show low, you win.” Cooley turned up the deuce of clubs (the lowest possible card) and replied, “Show low it is.”
As a result, the ranch became Cooley’s. The poker game is memorialized in a statue that fairly epitomizes the Show Low name.
A quick aside: I never did gamble. Always called it a “tax on stupidity.”
Show Low’s main street is appropriate to the city’s naming. My hotel is on West Deuce of Clubs. Seriously.
Notable residents of Show Low include:
- Mike Furyk, father of PGA Tour golfer Jim Furyk. Mike was a golf pro at several clubs in Pennsylvania, and is credited with teaching golf to his son, Jim, who has won nearly $57 million with a club in his hands. Click here to see the somewhat unorthodox swing Jim perfected under Mike’s guidance.
- George Takei, actor from the TV series, Star Trek, where he played Hikaru Sulu, helmsman on the USS Enterprise. Takei lives in Show Low with his husband, Brad. Make it so.
- Doug Mathis, major league baseball pitcher who’s struggled to stay relevant in recent years, and was last seen throwing in the Tampa Bay Rays’ minor league system. He attended Show Low High School.
In Show Low, the best restaurants are Mexican. I’m all in for a monster quesadilla.
So I go to Show Low’s top-rated Mexican cantina: Jalapeños Cafe. Yum.
Jalapeños is actually the top restaurant, of any kind, in Show Low — according to Yelp. It’s number two on Trip Advisor. It has richly earned all the kudos coming its way.
Owners Brad and DeAnna Crabtree cook my custom quesadilla to order, with tender loving care. All the ingredients are fresh (their slogan: “Keep it Fresh”).
I’ve gotta say: this is by far the best, most original, most creative quesadilla I’ve ever tasted. Sarah, who fancies herself a quesadilla connoisseur, would love this place. Note to self: plan a road trip, non-Harley variety, that includes Jalapeños and Sarah in the same sentence.
Tonight’s dinner turns out to be the best meal I’ve had in 15 days on the road!
***
Post Script: just heard from Ray. He made it safely to Amarillo, Texas, where he’ll stay tonight. Ray’s ride was 280 miles; mine was 310. Still a toss-up who will get home first. If I were a betting person (you know I am not), I’d put my money on the short kid from California 🙂
***
Day Fifteen Summary: Happy trails Ray, listening to my Harley playlist, the best quesadilla on the planet, a Deuce of Clubs city.
Click here to view today’s route from Santa Fe to Show Low.
What will tomorrow bring?
Riding With Gary 