I continued on from Alamogordo with a used belt driving the Ruckus forward. It has slipped earlier in the morning, or was that just a gust of wind? No way to be sure but it felt like a belt slipping. I have two spares, one is shredded pretty poorly and the other missing a few teeth. What lays before the 10" wheels of La Tortuga is the Sacramento Mountains over 4500ft of elevation gain in 16mi on the route to Cloudcroft, NM (elev. 8650ft). At an average GPS verified speed of 15mph, I tackled the 16 miles of switchbacks in the morning light. The temperature in Alamogordo was only in the low 40's and it continued to fall as the elevation ticked higher. The grade was relentless and for over an hour, the little scooter chugged along climbing proudly and without protest.
The rise in elevation brought more moisture and vegetation, shrubs gave way to trees and eventually forests of juniper and pinyon pine. Beautiful snow covered hillsides abutted the roadway, closing in small roadside vendors selling Apples and trinkets. Most shops were closed in this, the cold winter season. Following the old path of a railway once used to haul timber in the 19th century, mountain cuts, a tunnel and even the remains of an old trestle mark the history.
The few photos taken on this triumphant climb remain on my point and shoot. Not once did I stop in fear that the little motor couldn't make speed again at such an elevation and grade. When the road tipped at Cloudcroft, I pumped my fist in the air in celebration! The guy at the cycle shop said it was all downhill from here.
The rise in elevation brought more moisture and vegetation, shrubs gave way to trees and eventually forests of juniper and pinyon pine. Beautiful snow covered hillsides abutted the roadway, closing in small roadside vendors selling Apples and trinkets. Most shops were closed in this, the cold winter season. Following the old path of a railway once used to haul timber in the 19th century, mountain cuts, a tunnel and even the remains of an old trestle mark the history.
The few photos taken on this triumphant climb remain on my point and shoot. Not once did I stop in fear that the little motor couldn't make speed again at such an elevation and grade. When the road tipped at Cloudcroft, I pumped my fist in the air in celebration! The guy at the cycle shop said it was all downhill from here.
Rather than a Grinch kinda sign, it really was for safety as the hill sloped directly down into the roadway.
I made a brief stop in Cloudcroft, shivered a bit, had a snack and rolled on. Despite the altitude, the little ruckus purred up to 38mph on the downhill run toward Artesia. The Lincoln National Forest provided a wonderful winter scene of pines, small ranches, horses beside the roadway chewing alfalfa and smoke curling from chimneys. A tailwind propelled me forward from the west making the ride eerily quiet except for the whir of the belt, the minor noise of the motor and the hum of the tires on dry asphalt. Continuing east, the forests gave way to grasslands and pasture, then back to an arid desert climate again. Few small towns exist between Cloudcroft and Artesia, 70mi east. It is a predominantly downhill section of road with great distant views of small valleys and canyons cut into the landscape under slivers of peaks beyond.
View west back on the foothills of the Sacramento Mountains.
It seemed like I was just in Hope? Oh that was Hope, AZ! This is now Hope, NM. Both towns still could use a lot more HOPE. A tumbleweed rolled past behind me as I snapped this shot. It was nearly comical except it continued on toward the burned out volunteer fire department. That place alone would be worth a photo essay. Back into the headwind.
Artesia was much nicer than I thought it would be. There was obviously some money here as evidenced by sculptures, streatscaping and nice storefronts. I'm sure there is a more run down corner of town just a street over. This was as close as I'd ever get to Roswell, NM which lies roughly 45 mi north. The higher elevation and the incoming winter storm meant that a visit to my ADV friend Patrick, would have meant a 3-4 night stay as the storm passed. There were more sights south I wanted to check out and most importantly, warmer temperatures. I regrettably messaged him that I was heading on south down the road and would meet up on a future loop that direction.
A quick stop in Carlsbad for water, food and gasoline and it was time to camp.
Using Freecampsites.net, I spotted a BLM area about 10 mi north of Carlsbad Caverns known as Dark Canyon. Arriving just as the sun set, it quickly lived up to it's name...but not before a beautifully painted southwestern sunset. Two nights in a row!
A quick stop in Carlsbad for water, food and gasoline and it was time to camp.
Using Freecampsites.net, I spotted a BLM area about 10 mi north of Carlsbad Caverns known as Dark Canyon. Arriving just as the sun set, it quickly lived up to it's name...but not before a beautifully painted southwestern sunset. Two nights in a row!
Frost on the tent and seat in the morning. Ice on the helmet makes it that much harder to put on and get the day started. Alas, I've got a storm to outrun and sights to see! My fingers grew numb in the biting morning crosswind. "How much farther to Carlsbad Caverns?", I thought. Soon the turnoff appeared and I began the slow climb up Walnut Canyon, RD. It was only one canyon south of Dark Canyon so had a very similar ecosystem and design, dry but channeling large amounts of water during flash floods. Caves dotted the canyon walls
The caverns lie 750ft underground so visitors have an option of either walking down a mile or taking a 15 second elevator ride. In the interest of time, short days of winter and an oncoming storm, I took the elevator. Ordinarily I would have enjoyed the hike up and down. The elevator opened into a lobby and through a set of revolving doors I escaped into a damp and cool environment. It was actually warmer than it was "topside". My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lights and metal guard railed paths leading into the cave. The size and immensity of Carlsbad is unlike any other subterranean space I've visited. It makes the impressive Luray Caverns of the Shenandoah Valley look like a mere room in this underground cathedral of geology. A photographer could spend years down in the bowels of this sprawling cave. It is truly a wonderful sight and I would highly suggest it to anyone travelling through the area.
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Emerging from the more than a mile walk underground, I returned to the scooter and out onto the 4000' mesa rim. The wind had shifted directions to blow chillingly from the SE. A lone 1945 penny sat on my torn and abused gel seat pad. A mark of praise from some fellow tourist admiring the capabilities of the small rig. Thank you sir or madam! Cruising out of the park downhill, I only held up a few vehicles before reaching the defunct gas station that accepted my card and told me to pump, then dispensed nothing. Fortunately I carry an extra gallon and was sure I could make it to Van Horn, TX 100mi away. Time to get out onto the 70mph highway and head south hoping I don't get rear-ended by a semi.
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