Now here's a random one for you. Surf over to easytomiss.org/
Just north of Montaño on Unser, turn left on Molten Rock Road and ride into a fugly residential development. Find the gap in the southern boundary fence, lift your bike up and over the patch of goathead-studded sand, and enjoy a surge of triumph as your tires kiss that sweet bike-only macadam. I made this map to help you get there: bit.ly/dabGsY. Once you've endured the inevitable moil and confusion of locating the trail, your reward is several miles' worth of blessed solitude. Ah! Truly it does swell one's heart with felicity, it pours a soothing balm upon one's troubled soul, to pilot a well-oiled velocipede down a remote high-desert path, gazing upon ancient volcanoes to the west, and to the east, one's tenderly beloved hometown spread upon the apron of a vast valley floor, the poignantly familiar silhouette of the Sandia range just beyond it, jutting into the impossibly vivid gradient blue of the morning sky, whilst one's iPod earbuds blare ultra-hi-decibel Wu-Tang directly into one's thalamus. Real millionaire shit.
Biciclistas Burqueños, it's klatch o'klock at alibi.com. In the comments section of this article, I want to hear about your least favorite Burque bike route. Mine? Coors! Who in her right mind would place her two wheels topped with tender flesh upon the same pavement as an automotive army of accelerator-stomping Westside jerks swarming between the sidewalkless stucco shitscapes they call neighborhoods and the Cottonwood Mall branch of Auntie Anne's? Find the city planner who approved this harrowing bike lane of nightmares and stone him to death against the faux-limestone exterior of the now defunct Whisqué Mesquite Grill and Bar.