June 05, 2010

We woke early today to beat the heat. This area is expecting record high temperatures. While packing, I noticed that I had a flat tire again. I replaced the tube while eating leftover stuffing and a batch of Macaroni and Cheese. We were off to a later-than-usual start to the day…

The first 10 miles out of town were on pavement, but at a steady incline. I passed a group of geology students while climbing up a mountain. The leader of the group took my picture and told me the other two were only a minute ahead. I was feeling good – much better than yesterday.

The slow and steady 4 mph ascent was made bearable by a game I played in my head. I went through the alphabet thinking of a person w/ a first name starting with each letter. I repeated for last names (very difficult) and did another round for foods. This got me through the climb without walking and only minimal stops.

At the top of the road, we turned onto gravel. The temperature, trees, and shade were perfect. We rode through beautiful forest, up and down on rolling hills, passing what I’ve decided to call forest cities. They are campsites filled with campers, RV’s, and hotel sized tents.

We rode onward until we found a shady area by a stream to eat lunch.

Shortly after lunch while riding a steep downhill, my rear tire blew out. Usually, my flats are the result of a slow leak. This time, I had a very large puncture and tear in my tire. The guys were too far ahead to hear me call for them so I walked into the shade, flipped my bike, and patched the tube. Now 4 of my 5 tubes are patched.

Right before getting the tire back on the rim, Mathieu came back to make sure I was alright. We rode together during the next stretch, just in case my patch failed. It held, even as we climbed to over 9,000 feet.

Right as we turned onto FR 144 (a road known for being steep, rocky, and rutted), we found an open space suitable for spending the night.

We cooked our meals, set up camp, and went to bed before 20:00 – a mountain to the west made for an early sunset. I fell asleep to the sound of elk grunting in the distance.

June 04, 2010

I woke up early due to discomfort – my patch job failed minutes after going to bed. I cooked breakfast and went though the normal morning routine. As I went to put my gear on the bike, I noticed I had a flat rear tire. Fixing it put us at a later start.

When I started riding, I noticed my steering was skewed. When the front wheel was pointed straight ahead, my handlebar was a few degrees off-center. I did not want to hold up the others any longer, so I did not bother to fix it or filter extra water (our BLM campsite had a small lake/reservoir). Afterall, I had a decent amount of water from the San Mateo spring.

The road we were on was extremely eroded and bumpy. It was so bad that on a descent, I had some equipment fall off my rear rack! This was turning out to be Hell. I was tired from restless sleep and now lacked confidence in my bike and gear.

The scenery was amazing, though. Yesterday, we had our own private Monument Valley. Today, we enjoyed a private Grand Canyon.

When we descended into the canyon, Mathieu told me some discouraging news. At this pace, we would not make it to Cuba. I was low on water and there was none to be found. No way could I camp another night.

I unhappily pressed onward. On the Great Divide, onwards is often the only option.

The day turned extremely hot and dry, without any clouds to offer shade. My water supply consisted of less than a litre of water. I had been rationing all day and the previous night and was very dehydrated. We all needed water soon.

Then, we came upon a murky lake. It looked nasty, but it was our only option. A little ways up the road, we spotted a brick building surrounded by a barbed wire fence. There was a water pump inside!

Mathieu carefully climbed the fence and filled our water bottles and bags. We were saved! Even though I was carrying an extra 12 lbs now, I had the peace of mind knowing I’d survive to Cuba. This lifted my spirits greatly.

Soon after, it was time for lunch. We met on the first pavement of the day. There was no shade and endless biting flies, so we continued. Eventually, we stopped on the side of a relatively busy road and ate our meals.

I ate way too much and felt very uncomfortable on the low-grade climb that came next.

We reached a point where we could go two ways – continue straight and intersect the Chaco alternate (meaning only 30 paved miles to Cuba) or stay on the main route (going off road for all but the last 10 miles to Cuba). The guys left the decision to me, since I was the one struggling. I chose the main route.

Navigation was easy, so we let our differing paces increase the distance between each of us.

I came to a section just before a climb – a herd of cattle blocked my path. While trying nicely to get the cows to move, I was suddenly “inspired” to find a private place to go to the bathroom.

The thing about being in the middle of the desert is that both everywhere and nowhere is private. Even though I was the only person in many miles, I felt uneasy about not having a tree, rock, or shrub to hide myself behind.

After taking care of my business, I resumed my attempt to clear the road of cattle. These large creatures intimidate me sometimes – especially when going through the middle of a herd. I do not want to get between a mom and her calf.

Slowly, the cows parted and I met up with the others. We decided to wait for eachother every 5 miles. I certainly had a lot of time to myself during these stretches. To pass the time, I sometimes sang out loud – Iron Maiden, Rise Against, Bad Religion, Epica. Without the music in the background, it is very hard to remember the words. No one’s around to hear, so it does not matter.

After a few of these stretches, we reached US 550 – a busy 2 lane highway with huge, debris-free shoulders. 10 miles to Cuba!

We dumped our spare water (on ourselves) and snacked on melted trail mix. The plan was to regroup once we reached Cuba.

I started out strong, but eventually slowed (presumably after the sugar high ended). While riding the highway, I got some honks and waves. I had the feeling that those drivers knew what we were doing.

The miles went by extremely slowly, as there were no hills to climb then coast down. Just a steady cadency for over an hour. It had a bad effect on my saddle sores.

Regardless, I made it to Cuba and found my partners sitting outside a motel using the unsecured wi-fi, drinking cokes.

I had a coke, then we rode through town to find a hotel for the night. We took the last hotel before leaving town – the Frontier Inn. It had two singles, a queen-sized bed, and full kitchen.

We showered then went to a grocery store and Subway. The footlong sub wasn’t enough, so I cooked some stuffing. I was certainly stuffed after all that!

Much of the night, I spent patching tubes and the air matress. We all finally got to bed just before midnight. Again, the curse of electricity disturbed the rhythm of rising and falling with the sun.

June 03, 2010

We woke up early today to get a good start out of Grants. Water was our main concern of the next two days. Between Grants and Cuba is 120 miles of dry mountains and desert.

The distance is recommended to be split into three riding days. We decided to try for two.

After getting to bed just before midnight, 5:30 arrived very abruptly. After a luxurious rest day, I did not want to suffer in the heat again.

I forced myself out of bed and started the packing routine. We were on the road by 7:30.

The first 20 miles were on pavement…which gave the illusion of ease. Once a few miles out of the city, the road climbed steeply. I struggled a lot during this section, but did not walk. With the amount of time I spent standing/resting, walking may have been a quicker means of travel.

The pavement ended, giving way to loose gravel…the climbing continued. Around mile 26, we stopped for lunch by the San Mateo spring. I ate tuna on tortillas as the main course and nutella and pineapple on tortillas as desert.

We treated the spring as our last encounter with water for the day and filtered a lot of it. Just after lunch, we had the steepest yet climb of the day, reaching 9,000 ft.

Surprisingly, at the top were cattle near the road. Auke pointed them out. I noticed one looked very angry and then said so. “Thats a bull.” Right then, it started running toward us. Even with many miles of steep climbing, the adrenaline rush got Auke and myself away fast enough.

There was a nice long descent afterward that I really enjoyed…until my gear started threatening to fall off the rear rack. I tightened some straps and continued descending.

After a very bumpy downhill section, we rode onto pavement that had been marked as a private road – not for cyclists like us. We rode on it anyways…it was only a 4 mile stretch.

Without incident, we left the pavement for more dirt. In the past ten miles, we went from pine forest in the mountains to barren desert. The Great Divide aways surprises!

With some careful navigating we made it through many intersections of desolate unmarked roads.

As we rode, the scenery changed again. We found ourselves in our very own Monument Valley.

Later in the day, I noticed my tire pressure was getting low. When I stopped to fix it, a group of five or six motorcyclists rode up. They were also riding the Great Divide – sections of it, anyways.

We pressed onward, riding through sand, eroded rock, and deep arroyos. We were riding along a single road – no turnoffs – so Mathieu and Auke rode ahead (or I slowed). Then, from behind came two motocross/dirt bikes equipped for touring. I kept riding, expecting the guys to pass. Instead, he paralleled me and started talking – asking about the trip, giving advice, making sure I had enough water, and took a picture of us both. He wished me well and accelerated. He had Illinois plates.

A few minutes later, I arrived at a BLM wildlife exclosure where we would camp for the night. The motorcyclists were talking to Mathieu and Auke. It turns out the two were father and son from Vernon Hills, IL – only a few miles from my Chicago hometown.

We had a spectacular campsite. Open desert with mountains stretching to the east of us. It made for a very nice sunset. After eating and assembling my tent, I notice my sleeping mat wouldn’t inflate. There was a large hole in it where it rubbed against the rear rack! The sun was setting fast and the mosquitos were out in full force, so I hastily patched the hole.

I went to bed hoping it would hold, but it did not. I had a long night sleeping on hard ground. It wasn’t as cold as past nights, so the lack of ground insulation was bearable

June 02, 2010

Our plan was to make today an easier ride, due to the late start. We set a goal to reach Armijo Canyon, 30 miles ahead, leaving 60 miles to a rest day in Grants.

The road out of Pie Town was very sandy. I was in the back of the group, so I had the advantage of seeing Mathieu and Auke’s tire tracks on the road. They told a story of zigs and zags, searching for compact dirt, but often finding deep sand.

Along the way, we met two Great Divide riders – Dan and Robert, who had done all other sections over past years. They started this trip in Abiquiu, NM and were headed to the border at Antelope Wells to complete the entire route. They warned of heat and scarce water between Grants and Cuba – the second longest waterless stretch of the entire route. We warned them of the sand that lay ahead of them…they said there was more to come for us, as well.

We continued northbound – the sand wasn’t as bad as earlier in the day. Instead, we ran into many miles of straight, heavily washboarded, loose gravel roads. There was a strong tailwind coming from our left quarter, which made the miles surprisingly bearable.

We arrived at Armijo Canyon very early in the day – around 14:30. There was no water available, so we decided to continue. A few miles down the road, we rejoined pavement. There were two options to get to Grants – 60 miles on the main route or 38 miles on the paved El Malpais alternate. We decided to push to Grants tonight via the alternate. Afterall, the tailwind would be a cross/headwind if we stayed on the main route.

The alternate was quite scenic for being the alternate and paved. The road was lined by 1,000 year old lava on one side and golden rock faces on the other.

Our tailwind shifted and the miles weren’t as easy as expected. Down the road, we met at a Subway just off I-40. I refuelled with a footlong BMT and multiple cups of Coke.

6 miles directly into the wind was between us and our rest day in Grants. We rode together, drafting (or trying to) as fast traffic from the left and a glass-filled shoulder on the right threatened.

By the end of those 6 miles, my shoulders and neck were sore from being tense from avoiding Auke’s rear wheel and the broken remains of beer bottles.

The discomfort melted away after checking into a hotel and having a hot shower.

Rest Day

One would think a rest day would be relaxing…perhaps restful. They actually are not. Though we are off the bikes, there is much to do.

We went shopping for the next few days (and bought far too much food), planned our next riding days, cleaned and maintained our bikes, did laundry, updated blogs, uploaded photos, and ate…a lot. Even though we had all day to take care of these chores (well, the eating wasn’t a chore), we still were awake far past our sunset bedtime. It seems that electric lighting has an effect on the body equal to caffeine.

After a hot day of riding, I finally reached Pie Town. The first thing I wanted to do was grab a piece of their famous pie. The first cafe I rode to was closed for Memorial Day! It started to look like we’d be pie-less in Pie Town.

Mathieu and Auke rode faster than I into town, so now I had to find them. I slowly rode around the side of the cafe…maybe they were back there? As I was looking around, I hit a patch of loose gravel and my wheels slid out from under me. I leaned to the right side – the side I am not accustomed to unclipping my pedals from, and fell. My first fall of the trip was in a parking lot while going 6 mph. I fell hard on my elbow, directly on my (not so) funny bone. I shook out the tingling feeling while looking around to make sure no one had seen me…and if someone had, I would make up something witty to say to ease the embarassment. Luckily, no one was around.

After righting my bike and myself, I saw Auke riding up the highway toward me. They had taken a slightly different path into town. He told me he found the Toaster House – the hostel we’d be staying in for the night. We rode to the only other cafe in town – the Pie-o-neer, hoping it would be open.

When we arrived, a lady named Kathy burst through the front door and asked if we were divide riders. She also said she had some bad news for us. I looked to the door and saw there was a closed sign on the door. She explained that she had run out of pie, but we could come in for a drink and other food items.

During the four days between Silver City and Pie Town, there was not a single store, restaurant, hotel, etc. It was 180 miles of rough wilderness. When I walked into the Pie Town Cafe, a grin spread across my face. It was an odd feeling to be a part of civilization again.

We drank cokes, rootbeer floats, and ate Kathy’s Cravings – grilled cheese sandwiches with tomatoes and hot peppers. Kathy explained that due to the holiday, all their pie had been sold out, but she could make more and deliver it to us at the Toaster House later in the evening. What great service! We asked if they served breakfast, but they would be closed tomorrow. The Pie Town Cafe should be open for breakfast, though.

After enjoying our meal, we rode to the Toaster House. Its hard to explain this place to anyone who hasn’t seen it in person. It is a large cabin on the edge of town that used to be someone’s house. The owners moved out and converted it to a hostel for CDT hikers and Great Divide bikers. There are bunks, a shower, washing machine, food in the pantry, beer in the fridge, and lots of spare gear around that past guests have left behind. All of this is available for free (it is maintained by optional donations).

We explored the house, looking through the guestbook, reading entries of past travellers. Mathieu and Auke recognized many of the names in the book from blogs they read before starting the ride.

We took showers, did a load of laundry, and relaxed in the common room. This was luxury compared to the last four days.

Around 21:30, Megan, our server from the Pie-o-neer, arrived with our pie. She stayed and talked with us while we enjoyed the delicious pie. It’s amazing how open and friendly people can be to three dirty/smelly bikers!

When Megan left, we almost immediatly went to bed. It was close to 23:00 – very late after being accustomed to falling asleep when the sun goes down.

We woke up looking forward to eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast. Unfortunately, the Pie Town Cafe was closed for repairs. We saw that there was a grocery store a few miles west on the highway, so we went there. Our choices were very limited, but we managed to find tastey/high-calorie food items. We brought our food back to the Toaster House, ate it, then hit the road again. By the time we left, it was almost noon – a very late start for an area that is very hot!

Silver City to Rocky Canyon campground

The day started with rolling hills on pavement out of town. On the downhills, I noticed I was much slower than my two partners. It must be because my front end is very wide and flat – not very aerodynamic.

On our climb to the Santa Rita pit mine, Mathieu’s tire was punctured. It took some time to replace the tube and reattach his BOB trailer. I didn’t complain, though, since I enjoyed the short rest.

We turned off the paved road and did a number of miles on a rocky road. I tired quickly of the short/steep climbs. Eventually they yielded a rocky downhill section that spilled back onto pavement near the town of Mimbres. We rode off route a few miles to a restaurant to have our last proper meal.

After lunch, we headed north into the Gila wilderness. There were prescribed burns along the road, which made for some very smokey sections.

Much of the rest of the day was spent climbing steep and rocky switchbacks. This was my first time cycling in the mountains…and I dove in head first with a bike carrying 50+ pounds of equipment, food, and water. I have not mastered the slow and steady climb, and found myself pushing the bike up the steep sections. Even in the granny gear, my legs were doing very low RPMs, I was mashing the pedals as hard as I could, and I was only managing 4 mph. Any slower and I’d lose my balance and be forced to put a foot down.

Around 18:00, after many hours of struggling, we made it to the Rocky Canyon campground. We set up our tents and cooked our meals. Auke had a lot of trouble getting his stove to light. The fuel bottle was too full and the stove was upside down! We joked that Auke is a rookie camper and I am a rookie cyclist.

We went to bed early, or I should say we tried to. I was kept awake by our noisy campsite neighbors. It was a group of families with dogs, kids, and Jeeps.

Day one in the mountains, and I struggled terribly. What have I gotten myself into?

Rocky Canyon campground to Beaverhead Work Center

The day started with an extremely hard climb – it wasn’t the last either. We topped out and rode mostly on flats for a while then descended into Black Canyon.

Running through the middle of it was a very nice stream. We stopped for food and filtered some water. Fresh mountain water tastes great compared to tap or bottled water. It was also so cold that it numbed our feet when we dipped our tired legs in.

The climb out of the canyon was absolute hell. It consisted of many miles of steep roads covered in loose gravel. It had me pushing my bike in no time. Even that was difficult. Each time I stepped, my feet slipped backward. When I finally reached the top, I found Mathieu and Auke waiting. They had been there for 20 minutes already! Five minutes later, we were riding again.

We descended into a valley by the Geronimo Trail and rode through a small creek. The climb out of the valley was a tough one. As I walked a section of it, a group of people in pickups and ATVs drove up to me. It turns out that when this group passed Mathieu, he told them I needed a Coke. They gave me not one, but two ice cold Cokes! I told them about our journey and they seemed quite impressed.

When they left, I pressed (walked) onward. Mathieu had had enough with the climb as well and was also walking. We finished the climb together on two feet.

We had a long and gradual descent to Wall Lake. While there, we rested in the shade of a large tree and looked over the water. The group that had given me the Cokes came back and stope to talk to us again. They gave each of us sodas to drink! We were their entertainment, and they paid in drinks.

We stayed there longer than we planned – cold drinks and a great view kept us. When we did leave, we had another 8 miles of moderate climbing to our day’s destination.

This time, I was determined not to walk. I pedaled and pedaled, keeping my head down looking only a few feet ahead of me. After a few false summits, I finally reached the top. The day’s ride ended with a gradual downhill to the Beaverhead Work Center.

There was a coke machine, water pump, and an outhouse. What more could we ask for?

Beaverhead Work Center to Jean Kerr campground
(Coming soon…)
Jean Kerr campground to Pie Town
(Coming soon…)

Josh and I woke up early and moved out of our temporary appartment. We headed to the cafe to get some food and check the internet. I tried to eat a chocolate muffin. Every swallow felt as if there were razor blades in the bread. My throat was probably sore from dehydration and the dry dusty air from yesterday.

Afterwards, Josh and I drove to the college he is going to attend in the Fall. It had showers we could use…and I could really use one. Unfortunately when we got there, they were closed for cleaning. We waited outside – sitting in the shade. We didn’t know it would be a few hours before the showers opened.

After we took our long-awaited showers, we went back to the cafe to check the internet again. I saw that Mathieu and Auke were somewhere in town.

At this point, Josh and I were getting extremely hungry – the light-headed and nauseaus type of hunger. Even pushing my bike down the block to a Mexican restaurant was a challenge. The chips and salsa almost instantly made me feel better.

Before our meal came, Mathieu and Auke walked into the restaurant, accompanied by Glen – a mountain biker from Silver City. They recognized my bike, which was leaning against a wall outside. After much internet and phone communication, we are finally a group of riders!

After lunch, Josh and I visited some bike and camping stores. The owners were familiar with the Great Divide and I enjoyed talking to them about it.

After a while, Josh and I split ways and I rode with Mathieu and Auke to their hotel. We found a Walmart and purchased supplies to last the next five days. After a Subway sandwich for dinner, we called it a night.

Tomorrow we start the long stretch to Pie Town.

After being in the 90s yesterday, I woke up to temps in the 40s. I made some oatmeal and ate with Sam. After packing and giving him thanks, I bid Sam Hughes farewell. He truly was a great host.

The first 20 miles were on pavement with one divide crossing. It was very mild compared to the epic crossings I’m sure to come across soon.

Long, straight, and flat are great descriptors of the first part of the day’s ride. I could see far into the distance where I would be going, but I wouldn’t actually get there for many hours.

Short of I-10, I turned west onto an unpaved frontage road. My first taste of gravel. After 10 miles on that road, I found the first shade of the day – an overpass. I rested there for a while before continuing onto Separ.

In Separ, I filled up on water. As I was about to leave, a guy approached me. He recognized I was riding the Divide and warned of controlled burns north of Silver City – the trail might be closed.

With that warning, I left Separ. Ahead of me lay 33 miles of dirt and 18 of pavement before Silver City. Not a mile into this stretch, I hit a roadblock…almost literally. Cattle were standing directly in my path. As this was my first experience with them, I did not know the proper etiquette. Will they move or charge if I rode toward them? I waited to see if they’d move, but they just stared. Finally I decided to ride toward them and they scattered.

Not far beyond that I experienced my first washboarded roads. Day one on dirt and I was already being tossed up and down.

I pressed on, stopping occasionally for food/water or to check directions.

It was getting to be late in the afternoon. I filled my water bags at a cattle tank and continued riding. At this point, I was 25 miles from Silver. I just wanted to get there so I kept riding…and walking. My legs were fried, but my desire to get me to the security that Silver City offered kept me moving…however slow that may be.

Around 19:00, I made it onto pavement. 18.5 miles to go! To me, pavement meant smooth sailing. It turns out that some of the largest hills of the day were on that pavement. My legs were still dead, so I dumped my spare water (1 gal.), leaving only what was in my camelback. I wouldn’t need the water for camping because there were fences 20 ft off the road on either side. One way or another, I was going to make it to Silver City tonight.

I continued going…walk up a hill, ride down, rinse and repeat. The sun set around 20:00, so I turned on my lights and pressed forward. A half hour later I was still 8 or so miles short of town. Darkness was falling and the heat of the day was quickly radiating back into space. Now I was mentally fried. Having to walk your bike up small hills will do that.

There was little traffic on the road and my only hope of getting to town in a reasonable time was by hitching. I chickened out for the first few cars that drove by. I couldn’t get myself to stick out my arm and pop up the thumb. The first time I did, though, the passerby stopped! And it wasn’t the stereotypically feared psycho axe murderer.

Kaleb, my driver that night, is a pastor at churches in Silver City and Lordsburg. After asking what denomination his church was, he asked my background. I told him I did not have a religion – raised Catholic but gave it up years ago after starting to think on my own. Naturally, I asked if he thought atheists (any non-Christian, really) could go to heaven if they’re good people. He did not think so. We discussed the God/no God debate and agreed no side would ever convince the other of their opinion.

When we got to Silver City, he left me with a final thought: “Have you ever thought about giving Jesus Christ a try?” No. First, I need to be convinced that gods exist before “trying out” the son of the Judeo-Christian god.

Now I was in downtown Silver City, NM. What should I do? Where should I go? I started walking my bike down the main street when a guy started talking to me about my bike. I told him my plans and where I came from. I asked his story. He was homeless by choice – wandering from town to town playing his guitar for money. Already, I felt like I was in the company of adventurers, travelers, and free spirits.

I also met a guy named Josh while talking to the guitar-wanderer. He was in town getting to know the area – in fall he is going to attend the local college. We sat on the street corner at talked of my upcoming adventure and his past adventures. I had to be sitting because I was getting dizzy and nauseous. In my frenzy to reach Silver City, I had not eaten a proper dinner.

As we talked, a cyclist came by and started talking to us. Marshall was going out for a midnight ride. He has a wife and kids and this is the only time he could get some miles in. I had no place to stay and Josh usually camped up in the mountains/slept in the bed of his truck, so Marshall offered to put us up for the night in his studio apartment style massage parlor.

I can’t refuse a free, especially after the day I had, so I moved my stuff there. We talked and looked at pictures of Marshall’s bike trips. As I was standing there, dizziness struck full force. I thought I was going to puke right there. Cold water on my face and in my stomach seemed to help the situation.

Right before going do bed, I applied a liberal amount of chapstick to my lips – they were burnt from 12 hours of riding in the desert sun/heat/wind. Josh and I both agreed that you can’t ever have too much chapstick.

Tomorrow, I have a rest day and should meet my riding partners – Mathieu and Auke.

Note:
As I write this, I am in Grants, NM. I am behind in my journalling, but will keep posting entries in order whenever I have computer access and adequate time to write something decent.

I arranged for Sam Hughes to pick me up at my hotel in Deming around 8:00 the morning of the 25th. So that morning I woke up at 6:00 and finished packing my panniers. I had too much food and could not carry it all with me. Sam arrived an hour early, but I was ready to go. I gave him my spare oatmeal, poptarts, and some granola/Clif bars. It turns out a lot of Great Divide riders and CDT walkers overpack food at the beginning of the trip. Sam had quite a collection of Mountain House meals and camping food in his house.

The ride from Deming to Antelope Wells took quite a while…even going 60 mph. By the time I arrived, it was almost 9:00 and the mercury was beginning to climb. At the border, I chatted briefly with the border guards. They offered me bear spray and stove fuel that riders had left behind. I guess its a good sign that bear spray can make it through long stretches of bearritory without being used.

After some pictures, I was off and riding. 46 miles of sun, heat, and dust devils lay between me and Hachita. It was a very long, almost surreal, 46 miles. The scenery changed extremely slowly.

I made it to Sam’s house without incident around 14:30. He welcomed me with a beer, which I gladly accepted. We sat in the shade of a swinging bench in his yard and chatted. There really wasn’t much else to do in Hachita.

After dinner, we watched TV and talked some more. He told me of his wife, prospecting and treasure hunting, artifacts he had found, jewelry-making, and his time served (underage) in WWII. He also showed me the rifles he used, which I thought was very interesting. Those things were damn heavy.

While we were talking, a future Great Divide rider called to arrange a ride from El Paso to Antelope Wells the next day. It was a girl who was doing the trip with her father. Its nice to know that there is someone a day or so behind us. Maybe we’ll run into each other down the road.

As the sun set, I holed up in my tent and listened to coyotes howling in the distance. Tomorrow I will leave Hachita and ride toward Silver City.

The 15:25 Greyhound coming from Los Angeles today had my bike on it! Better yet, I assembled it and it seems to be in the same condition as when I packed it.

Assembling the bike in the Chevron gas/Greyhound station:

Right now, my plan is to ride to Silver City tomorrow. We will not be starting from the border. The town that Mathieu and Auke are coming from did not have adequate food supplies to permit it. While it would be nice to be able to say we rode the entire Great Divide (not to mention easier: “we rode from Mexico to Canada” vs “we rode from 60 miles north of the Mexican border to Canada”), it is not that important. The experience is what brought me out here – not the numbers.

Change of plans. Mathieu and Auke are taking a rest day in Silver meaning I would be there for two rest/waiting days. To avoid spending two days in Silver, here is what I’m doing. Sam is going to drive me from Deming to Antelope Wells tomorrow morning. I will ride back to his place and spend the night there. Over the following two days I will ride to Silver, getting there probably mid-afternoon on Thursday (Mathieu and Auke’s rest day). It shouldn’t be too strenuous – 46 miles the first day then 78 miles over the subsequent two. Much of the time will be on paved roads. The great adventure truly begins tomorrow.