Great Divide (NOBO) - Day #6 Informal El Malpais National Conservation Area, NM to Grants, NM

Great Divide (NOBO) - Day #6

June 1, 2022

El Malpais National Conservation Area, NM to Grants, NM - 42 Miles

Start 7:25 AM Finish 11:18 AM

Total Duration 3:53

Moving Time 3:18

Stopped Time :35

Ascent 633 Feet

Descent 1398 Feet

Tour Total 393 Miles

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/91908352

I slept well last night in the dust pit known as Informal Campground 8. I was fastidious setting up my tent so that no sand or dust would enter. I crashed as soon as the sun went down and slept great. It got cold during the night, and I woke up with the birds and the light. It was a slow deliberate pack-up, trying not to bring any dirt or sand with me. I was worried about the ride back out to the road, but it was better this morning with less foot-downs. There was a lot of deep sand. Perhaps I processed it in my sleep. Returns are always shorter and easier.

A car passed me as I got to the road, and I lifted my buff to protect me from the dust. They stopped and offered me water. The gravel was even on the northbound side of the road. I was trying to find the hardest most packed paths. Sometimes they were right alongside the ditch. I came to a cattle guard and noticed construction equipment used for a smoothing the gravel. I had wondered how often they smoothed out the washboards. I could see Highway 117 in the distance.

I reached Highway 117 and took a right towards Grants. As recommended by ACA, I would be riding the El Malpais Alternate to avoid the Cibola National Forest fire. The guy at the Pie Cafe had said that this was the more beautiful route. I would now be on pavement all the way to Grants. I hadn’t ridden on asphalt in several days, and it would be a luxury. That said, l would be sharing it with motor vehicles, and I turned on my rear light. I couldn’t get my radar to work, and I didn’t bother attaching my side-view mirror.

Grants was thirty-eight miles ahead, and I would be passing some remarkable scenery. El Malpais translates to bad country or bad lands. There had been ancient lava flows, and I passed the turn off for the Lava Falls Trail. I was wearing my jacket and leg-warmers, and figured that I’d be taking them off soon. I was listening to a WFMU Evan Funk Davies disco special file. I noticed a number of prairie dogs on both sides of the road.

I rode around a giant bend, and entered The Narrows. It looked as though a tectonic plate had shifted atop another. The exposed bluffs were two hundred feet tall, and the chiseled outcroppings were phenomenal. I rode alongside the edge of the enormous wall. It was chilly in the shadow cast by the Narrows and I was glad to still be wearing my jacket and leg-warmers.

To the left it looked look like some kind of ancient black lava flow. The geology of this area was remarkable. The treacherous badlands seemed crammed with black basalt. I came to La Ventana Natural Arch. Spoiled me, I was still basking in the glow of Hickman Arch from last summer’s Western Express tour. Down the road I noticed a sign that Acoma territory was behind the fence to the west of the road. Aside from the dramatic geological features I was surrounded by dry grass and hearty scrub. It was arid and desolate. I passed a sign that read I was leaving the Acoma Indian reservation. I hadn’t realized I’d entered it.

I left the National Monument and was twelve miles from Grants. It was 9:54 AM, and I could see Grants from nine miles out. I noticed buildings and reflections of automobiles on I-40. The roadside litter became noticeable as I approached Grants. There were Budweiser, Bud Light, and Coors Light cans along the side of the road. I mention this to shame the people who litter and the companies who should pay for their waste to be cleaned. In my thousands of miles of cycling I have yet to see a littered specialty-brewery bottle or can on the side of the side of the road. It’s always the usual (good ol’ boy uneducated <Turd supporting>) suspects.

I rounded a curb and Interstate 40 was directly in front of me. A gas station appeared at the junction. Woohoo! I stopped at the Phillips 66 and got myself a Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino, a Tropicana 32 ounce orange juice, and a Bon Appétit apple danish. I met a woman who was driving with her dog from Sedona, AZ to Indianapolis, IN. I continued on Highway 117 and crossed over the Rio San Jose and then over a double set of active freight train tracks.

I passed two separate northbound trail hikers. According to Rainbird and Rachel, trail hikers don’t like walking alongside roads, particularly asphalt. They call it ‘Road Hiking’. The second road hiker I saw headed into Grants was carrying an umbrella.

I rode into Grants, population 9,163, on McBride Road aka Old Route 66. I passed the Northwest New Mexico Correctional Center and numerous used car lots. I noticed the Route 66 Brewery and Pub House where I would be going later. Two mean looking dogs ran out onto the road, and fortunately didn’t chase me. I missed the rear pockets from my old cycling jerseys, where I would keep my pepper spray.

I enjoyed riding down historic Route 66. I noticed numerous signs that referred to it, along with former hotels and businesses that had been shuttered. I went to the Capri Laundromat for a deep clean. The proprietor was extremely helpful with the detergent, machine, and even route advice. He thought the main route would be fine to ride. He didn’t know of any fires in the area. For lunch he recommended Cocina Comacho, west of town.

I rode through the center of town and enjoyed the prominently placed Native American woven basket public art pieces, as well as old Route 66 tourist stuff. I relished the beef and bean burrito at Cocina Comacho along with three Pepsi’s. Afterwards I stopped at a liquor store to purchase a six pack of Fat Tire ale and a four pack of Sadie’s Classic Margarita Mix from Albuquerque. I rode back into town to the Southwest Motel. No one was at the office when I arrived, and I had to call a number and wait fifteen minutes for the proprietor to arrive, along with his wife and two little dogs.

Once my room, I hung my wet laundry, plugged in devices, wrote post cards, and studied my maps. I cleaned my chain and checked my bolts. Then I began the backlog of reports that needed editing. I shaved and showered, and couldn’t find my chamois butter. My heals were chapped from the sand. How was it possible for a tube of chamois butter to go missing? I ordered a replacement to be sent to the hostel in Salida. Ugh.

Later, I had a Lotaburger and fries at Blake’s Lotaburger. Next I rode over to Junkyard 66 Brewery, where I tried the Rack and Pinon Lager along with a pulled-pork sandwich. Before leaving, I enjoyed a pint of Junkyard Lager. I rode back to the motel in the dark as I had left my rear light charging back in the room. Back at he motel I enjoyed margaritas and Fat Tire ales as I got caught up on my reports.