Safe Return Doubtful

67 miles (108 km) – Total so far: 2,122 miles (3,415 km)

Not the earliest of starts, but away after breakfast at Cowgirls which was a good experience, it’s where all the celebs eat apparently.

I hadn’t expected it to be a very picturesque ride and few bits of it were. It was fast though with the exception of two long hills. Overall there is a height loss of 500 metres.

This is the sort of scenery that in a way I was hoping to see, but I knew I would be bored or after an hour or so. The ‘Cather’ scenery, from Death Comes For The Archbishop’ –
“The difficulty was that the country in which he found himself was so featureless- or rather, that it was so crowded with features, all exactly alike. As far as he could see, on every side, the landscape was heaped up into monotonous red sand-hills, not much larger than haycocks, and very much the shape of haycocks.”

At either end of the ride of course, there are the suburbs associated with each city, pretty tiresome to ride through.

I have had mixed fortunes in the places I have ended my bike courses.
Bike France – finished in Calais, always the threat of the bikes being stolen, and continually feeling unsafe, but good beer and food.
Bike Spain – finished in Malaga. Having been refused camping at the site a few miles from town (a nudist camp) we endured a dreadful campground, and overpriced food and drink, amidst a plethora of tourists.
Bike Italy – finished in Palermo. Smelly and extremely hot in August, but a beautiful city with excellent food and drink.
East of US – finished in Portland Maine. No great memories really, certainly not beautiful. I do remember struggling to find decent restaurant.
Down the Divide – finished in Boulder which was excellent. An action packed town and plenty of good refreshment, then also a night with a friend in downtown Denver.
Pacific Coast – finished in San Francisco which again was top quality. Stayed on the sea front and had great beers in Union Square at Rogue Brewery.
From the Arctic – finished at home.

So I will report back on how Albuquerque deals with a small celebration. Though the riding is all but done (the odd few miles in the next day or two), I will travel to El Paso tomorrow by Greyhound bus, then to Austin by Amtrak and the Texas Eagle train, then finally to the family in Houston (Richmond) by rental car, arriving there all being well, on Friday evening

Looking down into the downtown of Santa Fe at dusk

Breakfast at Cowgirls

Desert scenery – which I have had little of so far, and can be a bit repitive

“The difficulty was that the country in which he found himself was so featureless- or rather, that it was so crowded with features, all exactly alike. As far as he could see, on every side, the landscape was heaped up into monotonous red sand-hills, not much larger than haycocks, and very much the shape of haycocks.”
Death Comes For The Archbishop

Checking out the Greyhound station for departure early tomorrow morning (recognisable from Breaking Bad perhaps?)

Downtown Albuquerque

Storytime:

I have recounted the story of the kit in the river (almost) in Ilkley. Also the mongoose of Neston. But there were many such experiences Nigel had after two or three pints that enabled him to realise he was no champion drinker. One off-season, missing the game and the after-match socials so much, we ran a Sports Personality of the Year night at Upton Cricket Club, and it was very well-attended. Prize-giving was not a large part of the occasion at all, it was about telling some of the best stories of the previous summer, and playing again some of the ‘bar games’. “Hi Ho” consisted of singing raucously the tune from the Snow White Disney production while passing beer mats rapidly to the next person in the circle. “Zoom, Schwarz, Profilgliano” was a a complex game of glances, stares and spoken diversions of those three words. Though other games came and went, these were played most commonly. Some highly-regarded club cricketers felt their tour strength was more at the bar tables then the cricket pitch. The Sports Personality evening was another that Nigel missed a large part of. After a couple of quick beers for some inexplicable reason he had challenged Duncan M to a ‘one punch’ competition outside. It was only after many requests, and with great reluctance that Duncan accepted. As Park rugby’s number 8, County player and future Club captain, one can guess at the outcome. Nigel had also insisted Duncan went first. Of course, he never got a punch and was ‘asleep’ just outside the pavilion by the flower bed for the next hour or so.

It does seem ironic therefore that Nigel found his career in the wine industry. It was fantastic for visitors and friends, though I must confess I knew very little and could barely taste the difference between a £5 and a £50 bottle. It was on his second trip to Chile where I realised just how knowledgeable he was. After a morning watching sport, along with some good friends, we headed down to a renowned winery just outside Santiago at Casablanca. Our guide did his best, but without being overly intrusive Nigel told us of the importance of the soil, the weather, and talked us through a very lengthy tasting. The following day I was off to a rugby tour in Buenos Aires with kids, so Tom and Charlie entertained with a barbeque and some more fine wines.

Nigel’s main message with wine was to drink what you enjoy, and when you enjoy it, and not to be tied to the snobbishness that can be associated with it
“If it’s a hot day and you want your red cooled, no ahead and do it, and vice-versa with white”.

It is one of my great regrets that during one Skype call in February he suggested we did a bike trip as soon as he was able, and he suggested Lake Superior, perhaps in a year or two. Having called me crazy for many years for enjoying such tours, perhaps the slow pace and tranquility had appealed to him.