Day 6 March 30, 2006

Day 6
March 30, 2006
Ruidoso, NM to Rock Hound State Park, NM



Our hopes for an early departure were hindered by the late night laundry fiasco involving an uncooperative dryer. While waiting for downy softness, at least Rebecca was able to update the past days accounts.

Fooled by sunny skies, Spank headed out for a romp in the playground only to find that the wind had not died down. It seemed that the same gusts that had failed to push us off the road yesterday were back for another round.





As we wound our way through the mountains, descending in elevation, the chill in the air seemed to fade.



The morning’s debate over thermals and liners was quickly becoming a moot point. As we crested a hill, we were presented with either the beauty of the white sands of New Mexico or a plethora of snow - the group prayed it was the former.



In Alamagordo, we stopped for a quick picture of an odd-looking statue. It’s a roadrunner made entirely out of radiator parts and scrap metal.





Our objective was to find our first out-of-state geocache since our desire to find one earlier in the trip had not panned out. The first search took us to a scenic desert location in Alamogordo.



Surrounded by cacti, we were protected by our riding gear and did not succumb to the perils of the thorns.





We signed the log, traded some goodies, and returned to the bikes on the nearby dead-end street. With temperatures nearing 75 degrees, we now had the arduous task of removing liners and opening vents. We knew this would all be for naught later in the day, but it was necessary to remain comfortable in the mid-morning sun.



Our next search led us to the New Mexico Space Center.







The log-only cache was cleverly hidden in launch rail of the A.J.A.X. missile system displayed on the hill. We looked around and marveled at some of the historic achievements in engineering that were proudly displayed.







Spank was excited to find the gravesite of his distant uncle (and often forgotten American hero) Ham, the first astrochimp. As a tribute, he decided to “Salute to the brothers that couldn’t be here”.





Val, working in the gift shop, suggested Mom’s for lunch. No, not her own mother, but rather a homestyle restaurant in town. We arrived at Mom’s Home Cookin in short order, and received prompt attention by the wait staff. These ladies were the absolute definition of attentive, and were sweet as pie.



Both Rebecca and Erik indulged themselves with the special of the day, consisting of Salisbury steak with potatoes, veggies, and Texas toast. The drinks were bottomless, which quickly quenched our thirst.



On our way out, we met Dan from Las Vegas who had returned home to Alamogordo on his Suzuki 1500 six months ago. He recalled the long days in the saddle and wished us well on our journey. It’s great meeting like-minded riders along the way and turning strangers to friends with only short conversations.

Hitting the straight highway was not the most fun route, but got us to the dam park without much trouble. Leesburg Dam State Park, that is.





We had called ahead to confirm availability, were assigned a campsite at the front desk, and took off in the gravel to find Site #10. After a little confusion, we found it – and its current occupant. He had paperwork for the site, so we headed back to the dam Visitor’s Center to correct the snafu. The ladies waited while the men made arrangements for site #12 to be our home for the night, but after a short recon mission it was determined that dam site was booked as well.

Having no other dam sites available (other than the gravel parking lot they called ‘primitive camping’) and the money stuck in a dam locked box and irretrievable without a dam Park Ranger, we made a call to Rock Hound State Park, and Gloria was able to guarantee accommodations and honor our dam permit for the night. Under no circumstances should anyone stay at that dam park. The dam staff was unorganized and had no idea what dam sites were already booked.

Rock Hound was 45 miles away as the crow flies and sunlight was fading. Little did we know that on the paved roadway, it was almost 80 miles away. Getting there was half the battle – passing through the open range with the free-roaming cattle and getting up the heart-stopping hill in thick, loose pea gravel was to be an entirely different story.



The failure of the last two riders to observe Erik flailing his arms as a warning to stay back and avoid the incline almost cost us dearly. We managed to narrowly avoid two scratched up bikes, but emotions were running high. Picnic tables were quickly moved aside so that tents could be pitched on concrete slabs instead of gravel, since no campsites were available and we had to occupy the day use area.





Now settled, we were afforded the opportunity to see a beautiful sunset. It was one of many on this trip already, but certainly will not be the last.



We were nestled between the glowing city lights in the valley below and the majestic mountain peaks seemingly within arms reach. There was a quiet calm all around, and the twinkling of the stars above had the effect of a mother’s lullaby on an infant child.