Days 16–21: Tailwinds, Headwinds, Harleys, and the Road to Santa Fe

Before I move on from the last post, I should mention one thing I forgot.

Somewhere out on the road between Arizona and New Mexico, I finally got tired of listening to the same music over and over again and started catching up on the last few episodes of the Walker Webcast hosted by my boss, Willie Walker. And yes, maybe this sounds like a little shameless sucking up, but honestly, the podcasts are informative, engaging, and entertaining all at the same time. I had worried that listening to podcasts while riding might distract me, but on long stretches of smoother road they actually help pass the time and keep the mind working. So there’s my unsolicited promotion for the Walker Webcast.

Day 16 was a welcome rest day in Gallup at the SpringHill Suites. I had become pretty fond of the oatmeal setup there — loaded with blueberries, raisins, craisins, and nuts — a nice break from the steady rotation of hotel waffles. Mostly, though, it was a chance to get off the bike, put the feet up, and recover a bit.

It was also the return of my buddy Bill Shopoff, who flew into Gallup to ride with me toward Albuquerque. We eventually ended up at the El Rancho Hotel for dinner, an old historic property with all kinds of artifacts from another era. The best part of the evening was discovering it happened to be junior-senior prom night in Gallup. Kids everywhere dressed to the nines — tuxedos, dresses, lots of excitement. Big cities or Small-towns prom night is prom night.

Day 17 turned into what cyclists call a “Chamber of Commerce Day.” Blue skies, puffy white clouds, moderate temperatures, and — miracle of miracles — a slight tailwind. Bill and I had a terrific day riding through spectacular New Mexico scenery filled with red rock mesas and wide-open country that makes you immediately think, “I’d come back here again.”

We also stayed off the interstate for most of the ride, which always helps lower the stress level.

That evening we landed in Grants and had dinner at the Junkyard Brewery, which was exactly what the name suggests — an old junkyard transformed into a brewery and community gathering spot. Tables were built out of old car hoods, brewery tanks sat alongside piles of vintage auto parts, and the whole place had this funky, small-town New Mexico charm to it. The barbecue was excellent, Karen and Scott got competitive playing foosball, and after a long ride it was one of those memorable roadside stops that perfectly fits the spirit of this trip.

Unfortunately, the evening also included a less magical experience at the Best Western SureStay in Grants, where a group of motorcycle riders decided 4:30 in the morning was the perfect time to warm up their Harleys directly outside all our hotel windows for about half an hour. Nothing says restful recovery quite like vibrating motorcycle exhaust before sunrise.

Day 18 started with a climb up toward the Continental Divide at nearly 8,000 feet before turning into one of the faster days of the trip. Once we crested, we were able to let it roll downhill toward Albuquerque. At one point, though, a strong gust of wind hit both Bill and me at the same time and literally pushed us sideways several feet. One of those moments where your heart jumps into your throat and you immediately reconsider your speed choices.

That night we stayed at the beautiful Los Poblanos Historic Inn & Organic Farm outside Albuquerque, a wonderful farm-to-table property sitting on 25 acres. Most of the food was locally sourced, much of it directly from the property itself. The team there was incredibly generous once they learned about the ride and the mission behind it. We’re deeply grateful for their hospitality and support of the cause.

One underrated luxury on a trip like this is staying two nights in the same hotel — even if you still ride in between. Not having to fully pack and reload the RV every single morning saves more energy than you’d think.

Day 19 brought Bill’s introduction to riding on Interstate 40… in the rain… with wind.

Not exactly ideal conditions.

The first 22 miles were wet, windy, and pretty unpleasant. Later, riding into Albuquerque along pathways beside flood-control channels, I couldn’t help comparing them to the beautifully paved routes we ride in South Orange County. These were a little grittier. There were also scattered homeless encampments along the route, which served as another reminder of why we’re doing this ride in the first place — to help kids before they end up facing impossible situations later in life.

The day got even more interesting when communication broke down between me and the support crew. Karen and Scott thought I was riding back toward Los Poblanos. I thought they were meeting me on the far side of Albuquerque where the next day’s route began. Meanwhile, it started pouring rain.

So there I sat inside a McDonald’s, completely soaked, eating a cheeseburger and waiting for rescue.

Then came one of those truly small-world moments.

After finally getting cleaned up and taking a sauna back at the hotel, I walked past the restaurant and locked eyes with someone who looked oddly familiar.

“Tibor?”

“Mark?”

Sure enough, it was Tibor Kelemen — one of the sponsors supporting the ride. Neither of us had any idea the other would be in Albuquerque. He happened to be there working on a real estate project in Los Alamos. Pretty amazing coincidence to run into someone from Orange County halfway across the country.

Day 20 was a hard climbing day from Albuquerque toward Santa Fe — roughly 4,000 feet of elevation gain over about 58 miles. The grades themselves weren’t brutal, mostly steady three-to-five-percent climbs, but the wind made the ride exhausting. Crosswinds and headwinds forced a white-knuckle grip on the handlebars for hours.

Around mile 45, I switched from the road bike back to the gravel bike for safety reasons. The gusts had become too unpredictable, and stability mattered more than speed. By the time we approached Santa Fe, construction detours and confusing route directions added another layer of frustration. After a few wrong turns and increasingly dangerous winds, discretion won out. We shut it down at 53 miles and just under 4,000 feet of climbing.

Honestly, I was cooked.

Day 21 became a much-needed rest day in Santa Fe, and I slept like a stone — probably eight and a half hours, which almost never happens for me. Clearly the body needed it.

Karen and I spent part of the day at the soaking tubs at Ojo Santa Fe Spa Resort, trying to rejuvenate a bit. Karen has handled the altitude less gracefully than I have and definitely needed the downtime too.

One of the highlights of the day was Karen doing a live Zoom session back to the preschool library in Orange County where she works. She showed the kids the RV, explained the route, talked about the ride, and read them a book about bicycles during lunchtime. I think the kids enjoyed it every bit as much as Karen did.

We finished the evening walking through the Santa Fe plaza, browsing jewelry stores and art galleries, before a terrific dinner at Santacafé.

Not a bad way to spend a rest day.

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