First Time Motorcycle Camping
Day I: Miles and Smiles
As is typical for us, we spent entirely too much research time trying to decide what kind of straps to use to hold our stuff down and almost no time going to the grocery store to get suitable camping food. We also didn’t know for sure if we could have a campfire, which wouldn’t have been so bad except we also forgot to make sure our camping stove still worked. (In my Italian American self-defense, I did propose about 7 different cold meal options but nobody could commit – Etta)
We decided to make sandwiches but wrap them in foil in case we got lucky on the fire front (we know fires were allowed, but you can’t always gather wood around here and the website only mentioned cutting permits, so it was a legitimate question mark). After spending about a week trying to decided if getting hammocks made more sense than packing the tent, we went for the tent.
So we strapped everything to the back of the bikes, stuffed everything else into backpacks, and filled a thermos with slightly burnt coffee for the next day. Around the crack of 11:37am on Sunday morning, we were off! The first leg of the trip was just to get up to Cuba, NM for lunch and gas before we went into the National Forest to our campsite. It took around 90 minutes and finally proved to Etta that our bikes could, in fact, cruise at 75 MPH and also that windshields are probably really nice. (He was right; I did not believe him – Etta)
After lunch, bikes and bellies both full, we rode the remaining 20ish miles to our campsite. Not too far, but twisties on Rt. 126 the whole way. We did notice a sign promising “unimproved mountain roads ahead.” More on that later. This part of 126 was lovely on all fronts and, apart from me stalling in the middle of a u-turn like an idiot, everything was super smooth. Make sure to practice those low-speed handling skills, kids. (How could he forget to mention me yelling “COW!” as we almost ran into a cow on the road – Etta). It was actually a whole bunch of cows and Etta did a great job shouting about them in time to avoid a real cowtastrophy.
Once we got parked up, we unpacked and built the tent. We’ve got an oooooold REI Halfdome 2 man tent that my dad gave me when I moved to California. It’s pretty much perfect for this kind of thing because it’s light, small, and only uses two identical poles. The two poles part is critical, because it means you don’t have to argue about which pole goes where. I had strapped both our sleeping pads and my sleeping bag on the back of the America, while Etta had wrapped up the tent, her sleeping bag, and our stuffed whale Snuzzles in a tarp on the back of the Bonneville (Snuzzles is a great pillow and a steadfast companion!).
We had our clothes, water, and my camera in our backpacks, and we had crammed food and beer into the saddlebags on the America. So far, things were going well!
Let’s take a moment to meet the bikes. We got them both in fall of 2020, shortly after getting our motorcycle endorsements. The bigger green one is a 2004 Triumph Bonneville America, which is a mid-size cruiser. The blue one is a 2005 Triumph Bonneville, pretty similar to the old classic from the 60s. Despite having similar engines, the gearing and ergonomics are different enough that they are very much two different bikes. The America has taller gearing in the top of the range, forward foot pegs and rear-swept bars. It also has about 50 pounds extra weight over the Bonnie. The Bonneville has ergos like a 450 pound mountain bike, and shorter, snappier gears. It takes off like hell in second but has to work harder to maintain freeway speed. They’re both great fun.
I was on the America for this trip because I suspected (and later proved) that my huge-ass backpack would fit better on it and wouldn’t be as cramped as the Bonneville. To that point, I need to find some way to reduce the load on my back for our next trip, because my biggest complaint was back pain from the weight. (He also complained a lot about his butt pain! – Etta) This is true; my ass was killing me.
After we had made camp, we went to talk to the campsite host. He told us that we could gather firewood (yay!), and that we should keep going towards Valles Caldera on 126 in the morning because it was really pretty. This already being our plan, we felt pretty good. He then told us that it was a dirt road getting over the pass, but as he had just driven it in his truck, we should be totally fine, if not even better on our bikes. Note: this is not typically how ANYTHING works.
Still pondering his choice of advice, we went on a walk, saw a coyote, gathered some wood, and burnt the shit out of our sandwiches for dinner. Alas. Stilled tasted great, and the beer was still a little bit cold, and the stars were beautiful. We went happily to bed.
Day II: Adventure Begins When Things Go Wrong
My slumber was interrupted around 4am by the bugling of an elk. I had never heard this sound in person before, but these guys would not shut up. I had to pee, but I waited for the bugling to move off a little because I didn’t fancy trying to fight a horny bull elk in the dark while urinating. They were so loud it kept me up even after I got back in the tent. (He tried to wake me up but I thought it was a just a squeaky gate and like maybe someone snoring. IDK; I was very tired – Etta)
I woke up for real a little after six and could still hear the bugling elk. Those crazy bastards had been at it all night, apparently. I decided that I had brought my camera for a reason, so I slapped the telephoto zoom on and got going. Etta joined me and we started following the wild bugle boys over hill and dale, listening to the erogenous elk shouting, following footprints that may well have been from elk, and maybe even seeing the right kind of poop. Finally, a giant elk cow stepped out into a clearing right in front of us! Sadly, I forgot that I had left my camera on ten second timer from that stars picture, so instead of getting a picture of the elk, my camera started flashing and beeping like an angry robot and she ran away. Alas. Etta says she saw a bull right after that, and a littler later I saw another cow or the same one again, so we spotted a solid 1-3 elk! Not too shabby.
After all of the excitement, we were basically lost in the woods somewhere. It was a good thing Etta came, because she remembered her phone and has a better sense of direction than I do. If it had just been me, I’d probably still be out there talking to a hallucination of Tom Gordan and throwing pine cones at wendigos. Wish we had a GPS plot of that little adventure, because I bet it would look hilarious.
After that, we went back to the tent, ate some pop tarts, re-packed the bikes, and got riding. 126 is a lovely little road that was almost entirely empty. Soon enough, it turned to dirt, just as the camp host said. “How lovely!” we thought, cruising slowly but soundly on the hard packed dirt, kicking up little dust clouds and taking advantage of the low speed to enjoy the view all the better. We even stopped to take a couple pictures of Etta looking boss on her laden Bonnie, doing the rugged thang. Shortly after that, adventure began to happen. The Bonnie started running rough, like it was misfiring. Etta stopped and then the bike didn’t start back up. But then it did. Then it didn’t. I managed to fire it up again and it idled fine, but ran like shit when moving. Shut it off. Throttle cables seemed smooth. I checked for a block in the air intake, but that was fine. Wouldn’t start again. Checked fuses, no issues there. Then Etta noticed that the headlight wouldn’t even come on. Hmmmm. Took off the seat to check the battery. Disconnected terminal! Used my house key to screw it back in and problem solved! Many masculine points were collected and we were able to carry on. (*cue Etta swooning* – Etta, swooning)
Then it got sketchi…er
Instead of nice packed dirt, the road got gravely, rocky, and filled with holes (the light was also all dappled so you couldn’t tell a shadow from a hole – Etta). Then it turned into loose powdery dust that was like riding on sand. That was gnarly. Neither of our bikes are meant for that. Etta on the Bonneville was in a little better shape, because it basically has mountain bike geometry and weighs a bit less. I was struggling on the America. We stopped talking on the comms; all we could do was concentrate on not dumping our bikes. I learned reeeeal fast to avoid the front brake, especially in the soft stuff. I almost lost it a few times, and really thought it was going to go down. Powering out really works, but you’ve got to be ready for the extra speed. I scared myself pretty good a few times, but also gained some confidence and ability. I’d like to get better in the dirt, so add “practice riding in the sand on a 500 pound cruiser” to the list, I guess. In any case, I’m pretty proud of both of us that we got back to the pavement without a scratch on either of us or either of the bikes!
The rest of the day was much less eventful; we rode by Valles Caldera, saw some more deer, and cruised down the other side. It was a steep, twisty downhill that we took pretty slow (EXTREMLY in my case – Etta) because it would have been easy to overcook something and end up on the wrong side of the road. After that, it was on the highway to Santa Fe to get lunch, and then continuing on 14 back down to Rt 66 on the East side of Albuquerque. Riding through Santa Fe was miserable. We must have caught ever single traffic light and we were really feeling tired by then. Cruising down 14 would have been great, but my back was groaning under the load of my pack. I really should have dumped the water in my Camelbak (like Etta suggested – Etta)(She suggested it twice, actually). I might look into getting a mid-sized tank bag as well to stow some clothes/electronics to reduce the load in the pack.
We made it home, though, and Etta fell asleep on the floor almost immediately. Guess the next step is probably to wash the dust off! (and plan our next trip! – Etta)
Key takeaways for next time:
Bring beer that tastes good warm and is pretty strong, because you can only fit a couple!
Don’t bring so damn much stuff on your back
Buy your own elk bugle so you can annoy them back
Dense Sound 