Day 10: Las Vegas, New Mexico to Tucumcari, New Mexico

Distance: 110 miles
Climbing: 2800 feet, but I swear there was more

Ah, he’s back. The routine kicked back in this morning, and I found my legs, thank God. After three 135 mile days in a row, and after yesterday in particular, today was fairly short and easy. I had time to stop along the way and snap some pictures and get some video, none of which came out. Sexybike ascribes it to operator error, but I’m pretty sure she’s in cahoots with all of my devices. Let me tell you, she’s a bit snooty about being in Tucumcari, the pretentious little cosmopolite. I did catch her reading an information board about the Canadian Escarpment, though. It’s nice to see her trying to improve herself.

As for the ride, we left Las Vegas onto a 35 mile cruise over a mesa. It rolled a bit, nothing too serious, but the skies were lowering, lots of cloud cover and an occasional spitting rain. This mesa can get souped in by fog, and the temperature was just two degrees above the dew point. I wanted to get a jump on the weather so I rolled out early with another guy who descends like a bomb. There was more down than up today. We made it across the mesa and down a three mile drop off it. We’re talking some lonely road here, no houses to be seen, very little traffic. The cattle looked very droll and slightly condescending, but they don’t know about their future what I know so I didn’t let resentment build.

After that it was some more rolling type terrain with a bit of a headwind. There were one or two serious climbs along the way, one of which has earned the title of the Wall. It’s only 0.7 miles at 10% with some lifting terrain as you approach, but it’s dead straight, and it just sort of looms there over you wondering what your punk ass is going to do about it. The road actually turns at the base to go over it. That’s right. Some fool actually had to work at it to make the road go up it.

The lunch stop came at about 78 miles. This was where the wind kicked up, maybe 15 mph flat into my face for the remaining 32 miles with some pretty substantial rollers to boot. I went off with three other guys to get some help punching through it, but within a few miles I was on my own, resigned to slogging my way into town. From behind me came a train of riders with the hammer down that I was able to hook into, and the last 17 miles into town went a lot faster than I was planning, though I had very little to contribute to the pace making after being off the front for much of the day. When we hit town, there was a low rider dog tied up in a front yard and barking baritone at me. It reminded me of Mel. What is it with low riders? What is their rage against cyclists? My theory: it's the lycra.

It feels good to be back in the groove, keeping it very simple. Tomorrow should be an easy day, our first day under 100 miles as we penetrate the Texas panhandle and Central Time Zone. That almost sounds dirty, doesn’t it? Well, I have been away from home for a long time.