06.12.09
Tucumcari: Come for the Ride!
Road bikers like to charge down the highway dressed in tight-fitting superhero clothes and act like they own the road. They buy $3,000 bikes but believe it’s their conditioning, not their equipment, which allows them to pass up nearly all other human-powered conveyances. This is not to say that they usually aren’t in great shape. Usually they are, because that sensation of speed and accomplishment is a really great incentive to keep at it—not to mention the fact that you paid $3,000 for the @#$% bike!
But what if there’s no one around to be impressed? Or if you, like me, are in a town like Tucumcari, NM, where life and work are down-to-earth and a road biking costume would get you laughed out of town, or worse, assumed to be gay?
Here’s what I do: I eschew the bike jersey for a wicking jogger’s shirt, wear gym shorts over my Spandex bike shorts, which pad the right places but make me look like a pathetic ballet school washout, and ride. I paid only $650 for my bike, but on a Tucumcari income, the same principal applies. My seriousness level is also proportional. I ride for fun, not to beat Lance Armstrong.
Tucumcari is a road-bikers dream, and if there are some other road bikers in town, I apologize for blowing our secret. We have some phenomenal riding roads with great, wide shoulders, scenery to die for and sparse traffic. To the north you have a mildly hilly, curvy road with wide, paved shoulders that loses its shoulders a few miles below a major lake. To the south, you’ve got a great view of historic mesas and a climb that takes you out of the desert and into the high plains, if you want to ride the 25 miles to get there. To the east, you have a choice between a 23-mile ride to a lake, if you don’t mind sharing it with a few working semis, or Old Route 66, which no one uses but will take you half-way to Texas on a nice, level ride. To the west? Well, you can’t have everything.
On all these routes, your company is usually cattle behind barbed wire and herds of antelope, plus an occasional deer. The scenery is unbelievable—mesas, scrub, trees and plains. The air is clear and on some roads, the quiet is so complete that meadowlarks sound like they’re singing into your headphones (No, I don’t wear headphones when I ride!). I’ve seen an occasional tarantula (yeah, really), and they tell me there are some rattlesnakes, but I haven’t seen one yet, at least not a live one, so the most dangerous thing I think you’re likely to encounter is a flat. New Mexico’s propensity toward thick, sharp goathead thorns, unfortunately, makes that a real possibility. It’s worth the extra weight to slime your tubes and bring a spare.
If you ride alone, subdue your outfit in Tucumcari. If you come in a group, prepare for some stares, but a little head-scratching from the locals is small price to pay for the ride.
