Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 01:29:15 -0500
To:heublein@bellsouth.net, cal@gsbs.uchicago.edu, Danielle_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com,
ecb5u@virginia.edu, homunculus@mindspring.com, Rich_Fuchs@peoplesoft.com,
SNAFU@CC.MUSIC.UGA.EDU, smw4s@virginia.edu, ryssa@virginia.edu, geof@neuron.nrl.navy.mil,
joeboy@VNET.IBM.COM, cbw2c@virginia.edu, weishaupt@aol.com, WeilacherG@lynx.aon.af.mil,
brs@s-1.com, fife@s-1.com, abhijit@s-1.com
From:fuchs@med.stanford.edu (Michael Fuchs)
Subject:Day 5

Fuchs Overland Dispatch, Day 5
Dateline: Tusayan, AZ (just south of the Grand Canyon)
2.16.97

[Happy 50th birthday to my father, without whose influence I would
probably be itinerant on a permanent basis, and not just for this
temporary jaunt.]

*Special Day 4 Epilogue: I bought and drank a couple of localish brews:
Santa Fe Pale Ale (very much in style; good, though not stunning) and Old
Saw Tooth Ale by Left Hand Brewery, Longmont Colorado (an astoundingly
good sweetish American brown, which is a style I very much favor). After
quaffing these, I wandered out to The Cowgirl, which turned out not to be
a lesbian bar after all. However, I only lingered there for a few minutes
as I was anxious to make it to Tomasito's before they stopped seating, in
order to sample much-balleyhooed New Mexican cuisine. The food was good,
but the best part was the company: being as I was seated 5 minutes before
closing--and was seated at the bar--I got to savor the end of my meal in
the company of numerous staff members having their end-of-evening drinks.
Notable among these folks was one Danielle, a 23-year old
artist/writer/wanderer of purebred Native American ancestry. Turns out,
she had been cruising the country, roughly toward the East Coast, and had
stopped in Santa Fe to get her car fixed. That was last May. Soon she
hopes to move on to Portland, where she doesn't know anyone, but still
feels she is meant to be. We shared other common interests, including
contrasting experiences of dreaming. I gave her a business card, with the
admonition, "*Some day*, you will have email and can write me." I did
break down and write my snail mail address on the back. I wanted to take a
picture of her, though she didn't let me; because, after all of the rocks,
and buildings, and monuments I've seen on this trip, she was the first
actual interesting human being I've discovered--and that beats all the
inanimata hands down.*

Today: Drove north to Los Alamos, and through a big mountain loop that
took me back to Albuquerque at last. Gas prices in the desert are high,
but you pay them and smile. (If it weren't for that last Chevron I found,
I'd be living in a Pueblo now.) All of the blaze yellow NM license plates
are surreal; I feel like I'm in _Repo Man_, with the 6-packs with the
generic black and white "Beer" labels--and generic "license plates".

I passed through several distinct sovereign nations (reservations),
through a pass into the Jemez Mountains--damn good place for an ambush,
if a man had a long rifle, and enemies coming through the pass. I was
still getting 107.9 FM, The Edge; as I surveyed the unspeakable majesty of
several millenia worth of wind, water, and sun on the towering red rock, I
couldn't help but think that listening to Beck was not entirely
appropriate. (Ah well, they played Toad the Wet Sprocket later, which
seemed more fitting.)

The Pass; Luckily No Banditos

I stopped at an overlook in the mountains, but cannot begin to describe
it; hopefully the pictures will capture a little bit of the scene.

Los Alamos is actually a complete little town plopped on top of the
mountain. I crossed Oppenheimer Drive, got a quick look at the labs, and
proceeded on, climbing higher still. The road, while well plowed and
salted, was still quite treacherous for my truck, so my notes from this
stretch are nonexistant. Lucky reader. I did stop at 'Valle Grande', what
appeared to me to be a huge snowfield; has been called the 'world's
largest crater'; but is in fact a 'caldea', formed a million or so years
ago when several volcanoes collasped into themselves. I knew I was getting
way too high, when people with skis started crossing the road in front of
me--and I passed a 4-year old kid sitting on a snowmobile on the side of
the road.

The Caldea

I began to descend, and passed a panoramic cliff face so big it made Stone
Mountain (GA) look and feel like a pebble in one's shoe. I drove through
San Ysidro, where a sign presumed to warn me that speeds were being
checked by radar. I considered this to be a bluff, as I was pretty sure
that there wasn't so much as a microwave oven anywhere in this village of
huts. They did have, I noted upon my exit, a Taco Bell. I wandered some
cool mission ruins, and some red rock cliff faces where there were
presumably once pueblos.

Outside of Ruins

Ex-Church

Pseudo Pueblos

As I circled back around, I entered a wide flat area, and saw my first
desert mirage. In point of fact, it might have actually been a very big
lake, but I have no good way of knowing. So it goes with mirages. I
descended a straight stretch of road with a huge pointy mountain (Sandia
Peak) at the end of it; I wanted to take a picture through the windshield
--but there was a big ugly van on the road in front of me, which took up
much of the frame. Oddly, I then realized that I could easily Photoshop
the van out (once I scanned the picture). It seems that the Big P is going
to radically change the way we think about photography.

Sandia Peak. Can You Spot Where the Cars Used to Be? I Didn't Think So

I crossed the Rio Grande. I determined that there must be no helmet laws
in this state (take note, motorcyle riders). I blew my last 2-amp fuse,
then a 5-amp one (!). I think maybe I've been putting them in wrong. I got
back on the Interstate, which felt good as I was getting a little antsy
putzing around in the mountains. I descended into a great basin west of
Albuquerque, and saw four and a half miles of road stretched straight out
in front of me. (That's a lot of road to see at one time!)

Even Longer Straighter Stretches

Abandoning the normal high tech flavor of this trip, I called Liz on the
phone and asked her to post to rec.bicycles.touring for some good routes
to ride around the Grand Canyon (I didn't think to do it myself until I
was already on the road there.) The air here is too dry for words; while
driving and eating a microwave bean & cheese burrito (of all times), I
realized that my lips had passed from 'chapped' to 'fucked'. Fortuitously,
my groping free hand came up with the tube of Vaseline Intensive Care Lip
Balm which had been used once and subsequently travelled all over the
country, all but forgotten, in my shaving kit.

I saw my first butte. I noted a palindromic mileage reading (1,666.1). I
discovered that there's a Meteor City, AZ. It would have to suck to live
there. ("Oww, my head! Again!") A mere few miles further, there's a Two
Guns, AZ. It would be pretty cool to live there, eh John Woo fans? A sign
noted the mileage to Los Angeles (492 miles), which was pretty scary.

Bonus Blatant Gloating Section: On Liz's recommendation, I cruised to this
little area south of the Canyon, and checked into a Quality Inn. Turns out
the current seasonal rate is about 1/3 of some of the other season's
rates. I have 2 beds, 1.5 bathrooms, a coffee maker, and a balcony which
looks out onto the atrium, restaurant, and indoor hot tub (where I type
this now). There's even a data port on the phone (a first for this trip).
It's far and away the nicest room I've ever had for the money. I will
surely travel off-season from now on.

Fuchs Dispatches In Luxery

Moreover, there's a Taco Bell next door--and a convenience store with
beer. (There seems to be a theme here.)

Miles Travelled Today: 537.2
Total Miles Travelled: 1982.6

Tomorrow: I don't have to bike faster than the bear--I just have to bike
faster than the slowest guy biking away from the bear. (Failing that, I
can always fire at the bear with the pea-shooter .22 I carry on the bike
--and hope the bear convulses with laughter long enough for me to get
away.)


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