Biking, Burgers, Beer, Blisters and a Bridge!
The following missive was recently sent to a select group:
As frequent wild sleepers know, transportation and good communication/avoiding causing perturbation for our wives has sometimes been a problem.
Not this time!
Here’s the bicycle-based plan:
After the meeting ends at 12:30 pm, Shawn, Daniel, and I (having all our stuff already packed) will head to my house and depart on our bikes at 1:15 pm.
We will pedal on bike trails down to the Rio Grande at Paseo del Norte.
Meanwhile…To the south…Steve and Emman will depart The Beach Apts at 1:45 pm, pedaling northward on the Paseo del Bosque bike trail.
Marcos will leave his house at 1:50 pm. Steve and Emman will meet Marcos at the junction of Montaño and the Paseo del Bosque bike trail at 2:10 pm.
These 3 intrepids will continue North to meet me, Shawn and Danny at Paseo del Norte and the bike trail at 2:30 pm.
From there, the 6 of us continue northward to where we will sleep, arriving at 3:35 pm here:
Dropped Pin [undisclosable location]
We will go tentless, low profile stealth sleeping. I will bring my stove to boil water and dinner can be freeze-dried (lyophilized) meals.
In the morning, after BATHING IN THE FRIGID RIO GRANDE, we depart camp at 8am, pedal northward to the Range Cafe in Bernalillo! (Arrival at 8:25 am) Breakfast!
After downing coffee and breakfast, we turn our bikes south, departing the Range at 9:30 am. We will be back at Paseo del Norte by 10:30 am.
From there, it will be approximately 35-40 minutes for Marcos, Steve, and Emman to arrive at their respective homes. (ETA 11:10 am) The other trio will have a harder battle uphill to my house which will take us about 1 hour and 10 minutes. (ETA 11:45 am)
It will be an adventure! Are you in?
It was somewhat tepid. Perhaps the bike ride appeared daunting, perhaps the “frigid Rio Grande” comment was a deterrent. Maybe the forecasted chilly temperatures caused Mammillary Contractive Fear Response. (MCFR)
In any case, Shawn and I ended up biking as a duo from the SE corner of Albuquerque down to the area of the North Central Rio Grande Valley, meeting Emman at a time and place that was a rough facsimile of the original projection.
He was accompanied only by an enormous backpack which projected sufficiently into the stratosphere to allow Shawn and me to draft behind him as we pedaled northward on the historic Camino Real.
The Second two “B’s”
In harmony with the aforementioned “rough facsimile” concept, we altered the master plan to eliminate a civilized breakfast and instead directed our bicycles directly to the Freight House, an establishment which serves a fine burger and washes it down with lovely libations.
Our wives (availing themselves of the automotive transport method) met us for a delightful dining experience. We quaffed, quipped, and generally had a fine time!
After we had enjoyed our sufficiency of B and B, it was time to part ways. Shawn loaded his steed into the petro-guzzler and headed home with the chicas, while Emman and I wheeled our bikes out of the restaurant and pointed them south.
We passed a cantina sharing Emman’s surname and pedaled into the black Bernalillo night.
Time passed and we turned off our traffic safety bike lights as we stealthily locomoted along a lonely lane, stars burning the firmament. Our perambulations led us to a place where a ramshackle wooden bridge spanned an irrigation canal ancillary to the Rio Grande.
Bikes were parked, and we threw our sleeping bags down and drifted off to sleep shortly after 8:30 pm. The flowing water below dreamed us to far shores and we awoke refreshed.
Soon, the Pocket Rocket was roaring and the water was boiling. We each langoured in our sleeping bags and sipped several cups of Megdalia D’oro coffee as a hooting owl serenaded the dawn. Emman breakfasted on beef jerky and I on a can of sardines and an orange.
The Final B
With the emergence of the sun, we loaded our chattels and began the southward pedal. The vicious headwind of the previous day was gone, and we cruised along, distressed only by a chafing that continued to worsen.
We both arrived at our respective homes a few hours later jubilant but saddle sore.
Another successful biking microadventure and with Shawn shifted into the mix…
Emman later informed me that the seat of his bicycle did not develop terribly painful blisters. 🙂