El Sanctuario de Chimayo in northern New Mexico is a sacred place long valued for its healing powers. On Good Friday and Easter Sunday the roadside up from Nambe will be jammed with pilgrims young and old who park their cars and hike to El Sanctuario.
Somehow the Spiritual Presence eludes me in a large crowd. Rather, a quiet May Tuesday was a better time to make my pilgrimage. And rather than hoof it, I rode up on an Eddy Merckx CHM road racing bike. David Bell at Mellow Velo in Santa Fe rented me the Merckx in exchange for installing new shifter levers on my vintage Vitus 979.
We drove north from Santa Fe to NM Route 503 in Nambe and parked my mom’s ‘89’ Pontiac “amigo- mobile” along the shady road side just up from the intersection at US 83/285. Carefully lifting the brand new carbon fiber Merckx out of the boot, I inserted the Campy front wheel and water bottles, and we were off.
NM 503 is smooth and shaded as you ride up the gentle grade. Nambe nestles in a quaint valley of cottonwoods and mountain streams. Then the road rises up into the high desert of pinons and junipers, and you are rewarded with grand vistas of the Sangre de Cristo and Jemez mountains.
The climb up NM 503 is steady and not at all punishing providing you've adjusted to the altitude. We’re riding between 6,000 and 7,000 feet and need a day or two to get our lungs acclimated. After seven and three quarter miles, we turned left on NM 520. Very soon, we were flying down a long grade into Chimayo. I could hear the sound of swarming cicadas over the wind in my ears. It was coming from the Campy freewheel.
The front brake of the Merckx protested a little as we approached the cattle crossing at the bottom of the hill. Immediately after the crossing, I turned right on Sanctuario Drive.
El Sanctuario de Chimayo was peaceful humility in the May morning air. In the absence of pilgrims and tourists, the silence was only broken by a gentle breeze off the mountains. I was tranquilized by this Holy Place and could very nearly hear my heart beat. Riding a bike seemed the perfect pilgrimage.
I believe I reflected on my ailments— the achy back and knees and knotted quads we bike riders endure. I thought I might leave a water bottle or my spare inner tube in the tiny room off the sacristy as a confirmation of my faith in the curing powers of the dirt contained in this lovely sanctuary.
Then my mind briefly turned to the climb out of Chimayo, and before I knew it, I was on the Merckx peddling up the long steep road. The effort was surprisingly little, and my cadence was deliberate and not at all anxious. I stayed in the saddle transfixed in a rhythm coming from deep inside.
Then, I recalled last year’s bike ride to El Sanctuario where the same phenomenon occurred. It was not the light and agile Merckx which was helping me power up the grade but something more significant.
Perhaps here was a formula for the mystery of faith-- rigorous exercise rolling up to a lofty view then plummeting into the solitude of a pastoral sanctuary. The reward is to be refreshed and refocused on the task at hand. And after you have recharged your spiritual batteries and have crested the climb out of Chimayo, a magnificent vista and roll await on your eight mile descent back to Nambe.
I do admit that the Eddy Merckx CHM was very comfortable and responsive-- a light but firm “big guy’s” carbon fiber bike. David Mill’s set-up may have over-geared me for the climb out of Chimayo, but I had acquired something extra special on my pilgrimage.
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