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Arrived in Denver via UAL w/o incident. Brother Lee picked us up at the airport. We dropped Mark off at Stapleton to await his friend Denver John. Lee and I headed back to Fort Collins and an afternoon/evening of beer drinking. Lee BBQed turkey loin and his wife Yasmin made a wonderful salad with potatoes, green beans, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil.

This was our first campsite, found on the Internet, and it seemed like a logical spot to start, even if there were campsites closer to Salida. I was the first to arrive, having been dropped off by my brother Lee. Thanks Lee! There were all kinds of tents, including two on the site we had reserved. A bunch of young kids from Denver had decided to spend their Labor Day weekend rafting the Arkansas River. They had FIVE kegs of beer! Two were already down when we arrived. Fortunately there were a few open spots far from the action, which went on until about 2:30 in the morning. Dry campsite, no water. But a nice couple gave us a gallon of water so we could prepare dinner. A young family invited us over for smores with their kids. The young revelers weren't that much of a problem.

Had to ride the 17 miles into Salida, then started heading south. It was Labor Day so there was a fair amount of traffic. We also had to clear Pancha Pass, which was 9010 feet. That was surprisingly hard. Of course we weren't yet used to pedaling our heavy bikes, it was kind of hot and we were still getting used to elevation. Even once over the top as we dropped into the San Luis Valley, mother nature wasn't on our side. Headwinds prevented us from taking full advantage of the gravity. Arrived in tiny Villa Grove where the biggest thing going was the Villa Grove Trade - a combination motel, restaurant, grocery and cafe. We were able to buy showers ($4 or $5 with a towel) and had dinner. We camped in the tiny city park 1/2 block from the Villa Grove Trade. It's right on the highway so the trucks just scream by at night.

We got up, packed up and had breakfast at the Villa Grove Trade. Then pedaled about 5 miles down the road and took a brief side trip to the Joyful Journies Hot Springs Spa. We had looked into camping there the night before but they wanted $50 for a campsite - it did include hot springs access, but still that's a little too much. For $12 apeice we soaked for about an hour and a half. It felt good and there were spectacular views of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Then it was back on the road. The San Luis Valley is big and largely flat, so we just pointed our bikes south and ground onward, eventually arriving - about 6:30 - in Del Norte. We were able to camp in the City Park in front of the old train depot that now serves as the town hall. Best of all the sprinklers didn't come on. We ate at the Tin Cup restaurant and were suitably impressed, so much so that we had breakfast there the next day. We needed good nutrition because our next day would be the first on dirt and would require a huge climb.

Now that Mark has had a chance to get used to riding his bike with a broken shoulder it was time to get serious. This first day along the actual Great Divide Route would take us up over Indiana pass - the highest pass on the entire route at 11,910 feet. The first 11 miles were on pavement and at a generally acceptable grade. But once the road became gravel the granny gear became about the only thing we could use. It was a very, very hard day of climbing. With storm clouds threatening we were anxious to get over the top, but the air was thinning and our legs were weakening. Four-thousand feet is a long, long climb even unloaded. But we did eventually make it up to the top of the pass about 5:30. Then we needed to find a place to camp as the weather had turned quite cold and windy. We coasted down a little ways to the former mining community of Summitville, which is now an EPA site. We thereby set another high and low. This was our highest camp along the divide route and, given its dangerous status as an EPA site our lowest quality camp. We camped among some of the rotting buildings of historic Summitville, in the shadow of the mountain that has been removed for its mineral riches and the mountain-sized tailing pile and seeping waste lagoon. Scenic no? It probably dropped into the 20s overnight as everything was covered with a heavy frost the next morning.

This was a crappy day anyway you slice it. We awoke to frigid conditions, but made the best of the morning sun while it lasted, melting the frost off our tents as we cooked breakfast looking over the waste of Summitville. But as we finished packing up the clouds were already threatening. While the overall trend for the day was downhill, there were a couple of hills to climb to get to the next area of civilization and useable water - everything around Summitville, not surprisingly, was highly contaminated. Even our water filters would not remove all the bad stuff in the water. As we descended a pelletized snow began to fall. This picked up to the point that we had to put on our rain gear. As the elevation dropped the snow became rain and the road muddy. Our bikes and gear quickly became gritting messes. The temperature, however, never got out of the 40s and we got colder and colder as thunder echoed through the mountain canyons.

We had few options. There was a campground near the bottom of the descent - Stunner Campground. If we stayed there we could put on our dry clothes and hunker down for the night hoping the weather would clear the next day, or we could push another 5 miles over Stunner Pass - a gain of 700 feet or more and find refuge in Platoro where we knew there was lodging. We opted to push on to Platoro. Wearing all our rain gear and cold weather clothing we slogged up the pass. About half way up we started seeing patches of heavy wet snow along the roadside. Near the top it was at least 2 inches deep everywhere but for the wheel tracks of cars and trucks. Miserable as we could be we finally topped out and coasted down the wet and muddy road to the Conejo Cabins where the owners were gracious enough to give us a discount on a cabin and some home-cooked BBQ pork chops and cornbread. It was only about 2:30 in the afternoon.

We retreated to the cabin, turned the heat to high and started drying out all our stuff. We even turned on the oven to dry shoes and gloves soaked by a day in the rain. Though it was a short day we were completely spent. By about 7 we were ready for some serious food, so we walked into the town of Platoro and had one of the best pork chop dinners we've ever had, as the kitchen staff bellowed out classic Motown songs to the music on their CD player. They weren't good singers. Exhausted we went back to the cabin and slept deeply.

The weather began to break today, but not before we had to put on and take off our rain gear several times. Highlights of the day included a brief stop at the Rocky Mountain Lodge where the proprietors - originally from Mississippi - gave us hot coffee and some of the guest entertained us with stories of hunting and cooking. It was here that the winner of the Great Divide Race this year stopped on what is Pot Luck Night at this little mountain resort. Every thursday in July and August everyone comes together in an outdoor pavillion to share food. The guy happened to be passing through that day. They say he ate alot. I can believe it.

After La Manga the route goes into the forest, but the maps tell us that in rainy weather there are sections of the road that become impassable. Also, we were afraid that rain above 10,000 feet - which is what we would deal with for the next couple of days - might be snow. Plus, it was over a hundred miles with no services whatsoever. So we opted to cruise down the pavement, creast another 10,000+ pass - Cumbres - and then drop down into Chama, NM. We believe this turned out to be a wise choice.

Last night we got a motel room in Chama. We had dinner at a nearby restaurant and bar. I had a Mexican speciality that was quite spicy and a couple of beers. Then we went to the bar side of the place to listen to the live country band. During the night I started having the worst pains in my gut. I woke up with a headache and diarhea. I had picked up a bug of some kind. I don't know if it was from the food, bad water somewhere or something else, but I was laid low. We packed up our stuff and went to the very nice Rio Chama RV park on the northside of town. I set up my tent and slept most of the afternoon. I couldn't eat anything. Then I slept 12 hours and woke up feeling much better.

Today would be a day devoted to the road, but first breakfast at Maria's Cafe. A good wholesome breakfast of oatmeal, whole wheat toast,OJ and coffee. Then went across the street to watch as the historic steam train, the Chama and Toleco narrow guage train took off on its Sunday morning excursion up to the top of the pass and beyond. Very cool. The town is just swarming with railroad buffs.

From there we headed south on the highway toward Abiquiu. Generally a nice road with wide shoulders. The only catch was that parts of it were under construction, forcing us to dodge cars between construction pylons. Got to the Echo Amphitheatre, this really cool natural amphitheatre eroded out of the sandstone cliffs and had a late lunch - about 3:30 or so. That's when I discovered I had a broken spoke on my rear wheel. The wheel, which had been giving me trouble before was now really warped. I tinkered with it a little to keep it from rubbing on the chain stay. We then rode down the road three miles to the Ghost Ranch where the lady behind the desk was kind enough to let me use her cell phone to call bike shops in Santa Fe and Los Alamos. Finally got a hold of the Bike Doctor in Los Alamos who said he had a mobile service but charges a buck a mile. That would've been a pretty expensive house visit, so I said I'd get to him. We then limped into Abiquiu and found a campsite on the river, with the help of a new biking friend Keith Dyarmett from Georgia, who has been riding from Canada, starting at the end of June.

I awoke early and went to Bode's the only happening place in Abiquiu, had a breakfast burrito and coffee and start hitch hiking to Los Alamos - 50 miles away. Got a ride with a nice lady in about five minutes. She took me to Espanola, the turn off for Los Alamos. From there a couple of Hispanic landscape workers took me directly to the Bike Doctor's door in Los Alamos. It was 9:00 am.

Then we started the long climb out of Abiquiu and into the forest. The mileage was short because the road was long and steep. We hadn't left Abiquiu until 2:00 pm for various reasons, and now we were racing to get to a campsite before the sun went down. Found a very nice site in a clearing in the pinon pines even made a fire that night. Nice!

First thing in the morning we had to clear a 10,000+ summit, then we sort of went up and down around 10,000 feet most of the day. The road varied from OK to very rough - baby head sized rocks. It was very taxing riding however. We wanted to make it to Cuba because it had services, like restaurants, motels and a laundry. It was a real struggle for Mark and me and nearing the end of the day I could barely make it up the little climbs in the rolling terrain, even though the road surface had improved a lot. Finally we made it to the highway, where on the map it looked like the route would be all downhill. Well, it wasn't and we had to find strength none of thought we had. We eventually rolled into town about dusk, found a motel room, had a nice Mexican dinner and collapsed exhausted in bed.

Note about Cuba: Had dinner at El Bruno's, listed on the maps as the best Mexican restaurant along the Continental Divide. We concur. Even though the original restaurant burned to the ground in June, the owners reopened in a much smaller location across the street. Excellent food, great service. Rumour has it the owners will build a new restaurant down the road a little way where they own some property. If going through Cuba, do not miss El Bruno's!

The first ten miles of the day were on pavement, so we got a good jump on the day's total mileage. There were a lot of different two-track roads leading across this relatively open expanse of desert scenery. If you don't pay attention closely you can get lost. That's what happened to Mark. He had fallen behind Keith and Dave after stopping to shed a layer of clothes. Thank goodness we had 2-way radio contact. We confirmed that indeed he had wandered off the course. We waited until he figured out where he had gone astray and for him to catch up with us. Shortly there after we discovered he had lost his Platypus - a flexible water container that carries nearly a gallon of water. We were uncertain of the availability of water so were carrying a lot of extra along. Since he didn't know where it fell off his bike, and it was probably up to eight miles a way we kissed it goodbye.

Challenges today involved sand, deep sand. We tried to ride through it, but kept getting thrown down in the stuff. Keith did a couple of Superman launches from his bike after getting stuck in the sand. Somewhere along the line we picked up a couple of desert farm dog dogs. They followed up for ten miles until we stopped at the campsite. Great star show in the evening. To the east we saw the glow over the mountains of Albuquerque, to the west what we thought must be Grants.

First on the agenda after breaking camp was to stop at the Ojo Freo springs to water up. What a disappointment. The spring was a circular concrete basin filled with icky green water. Since we weren't sure where the next water would come from, we filtered and filled our containers. Problem is, the water was so thick with gunk that it clogged all our filters, forcing emergency maintenance on the spot. Even after filtering the water still appeared kind of greenish.

On the map the elevation profile of this section looks pretty easy. It's flat, more or less. But on the ground this was one of the most challenging days we had ever encountered. New Mexico has had an unbelievable amount of monsoon rain this year. Accounts from the locals and reports in the paper - when available - indicate double to triple the normal amount of rain. The evidence of this was clear in this section of trail. The rain and flooding had cut deep arroyos into the earth. In some places the road had been washed away completely. We had to drop into the arroyos and climb out the other side, at the bottom of each was usually some wet, sticky mud and sand. At first Keith and Dave tried to ride the arroyos, but after getting bucked off repeatedly it was deemed more prudent to just walk the bikes. On one arroyo Dave had cleared the sand and mud and was just about to climb out the other side when he lost momentum and fell over into a big, sticky mud hole, covering his back, Camelback and bike. It was a major mess.

In between the arroyos there were giant sand traps that forced the bikers to walk through them and very rough rocky sections. Challenging terrain indeed. So, after riding and walking most of the day all we were able to accomplish was a little more than 26 miles. We had wanted to make it through the Filipe Tafoya Grant lands because the maps told us there would be no camping on this private land, but it was late in the day when we finally made it to the border fence. We opted to camp, covertly, in the farm yard of this old stone farm. It sheltered us from the wind and hid us from anyone who might see us.

The farm hands had not lied to us. The Filipe Tafoya lands were a mess. Just like the day before, only rougher. But with fresh legs in the morning we were able to clear the 15 miles of extremely bad road and get onto some decent gravel. From there it was a four miles stretch of pavement we thought would be easy, but headwinds and hills slowed us down. Then after lunch we had to climb another five miles on good gravel roads, up into the forest before dropping down the other side toward Grants.

Another note on water: Though we knew were heading toward civilization and didn't really have to water up, we stopped at San Mateo springs. The springs were just about a mile below the highest point of the day. Again we were disappointed because there wasn't any water, just black plastic pipe running up the hillside. Though we followed the pipe perhaps a quarter mile up the hill we never found the source of the alleged springs.

We realized that we have only about 11 riding days left and we still have over 300 miles to go, so we made a decision to divert from the trail and go pavement today. Had we taken the trail on the Scenic Byway (gravel road) through the west side of El Malpais it probably would've taken us two days. By going on pavement down the east side we got to the same point in one day.

It was kind of a lazy day and relatively easy riding over all. We stopped at the Visitors Center to learn about the El Malpais (Spanish for the bad land) and its geologic and cultural history. It's a relatively recent lava flow, not unlike the Craters of the Moon National Monument, except it is surrounded by sandstone cliffs. Culturally, it has been occupied by humans for perhaps 2000 years.

In the afternoon we faced pretty steady headwinds and a long, gentle climb. The campsite was unique - in the wide open because the road into better camping was one giant sand pit. We just set up our tents on the open prairie. To our east was the Cibola Wilderness area and some rounded pinon pine covered hills. In almost every other direction wide open spaces. To the north you could see some of the cinder cones of the National Monument, to the south some very distant peaks, the same to the west. The sun set and the temperatures dropped. We ate a quick dinner and then all retired to our tents to keep warm. The wind died down overnight, but the temperatures dropped to 24 degrees - the coldest so far.

After the cold, cold night we were eager to get moving the next day and get a good meal in our bellies. We set out to have lunch in Pie Town. We dreamed of a good burger and pie, any kind of pie. But when we arrived in Pieo Town in the early afternoon everything was closed. The Pie-O-Neer (http://www.pie-o-neer.com/) was closed until September 20th and the Daily Pie (http://www.dailypie.com/) is closed on Mondays. Bummed we went to the park and ate lunch from the stores on our bikes.

We went over to her house, which just turns out to be on the Continental Divide trail route. She invited us to dig through her 'Hiker Box' a big plastic box with all the stuff various travelers - going either north or south along the divide - have left for others. There was food and equipment, maps and other stuff. Then she brought out the rhubarb pie. We devoured it like wolves.

Then she told us we could leave our bikes in her yard (there's no crime in Pie Town) and she would take us to her cabin, just outside of town for the peach pie. So we loaded ourselves into her Forester and drove off to the cabin. The cabin is this beautiful log cabin built on a hilltop about five miles from Pie Town. It has a spectacular view of Alegres Mountain and was built by a true craftsman. While the pie was warming in the oven she offered us beer - Keith and I readily accepted - and fruit from the boxes of apples and peaches she had recently acquired. Then we ate the pie with vanilla ice cream on top. M-m-m-m-m.

After pie Nita took us back to her town place and said we could shower there and camp on her porch. We did. Nita is wonderful and we cannot thank her enough for the wonderful hospitality she showed us in what we thought was going to be a very disappointing visit to Pie Town. She was so nice it was hard to leave the next day.

With the sun quickly approaching the horizon, we were in a very open area on the edge of the Plains of San Agustin, and we had no where to camp. We had just entered the Gila National Forest and didn't want to climb up to what the sign said was 6 miles to the John Kerr Peak area where there was good disbursed camping. So we found a wide spot in the road and made that our camp. It was far from perfect, but we thought that once the sun went down it would be quiet enough. We were wrong. It's bow season for elk in New Mexico and there was quite a bit of truck traffic as hunters were driving here and there to track the bugling of the elk - some of the elk were just to our north, we could hear them. Several of these parties stopped to talk to us and the traffic continued until late at night and then started again early in the morning. Weird.

Just a mile down the road from our make-shift campsite was a windmill where I filled up my two reserve bottles. Initially the terrain was not all that steep, but strong headwinds slowed our progress. After about two hours of riding we had only covered 15 miles. Dave was in the lead and stopped at a shallow lake for lunch, the others caught up later. While stopped there we encountered a couple guys out of Arizona who were riding the divide on dirt bikes. They had started in Roosville on September 9th and were being followed by one of the guy's wives in a 4-Runner with a trailer. They skipped almost all of Colorado after encountering snow just south of Rawlins, WY on the way to Steamboat Springs. They picked the trail up again at Del Norte, in southern Colorado. They were doing about 200-250 miles a day on dirt bikes. They were unable to go through some of the sections south of Cuba, NM that had given us such greif. And they stayed exclusively in motels.

After lunch at the lake the general trend seemed to be downhill, which we never complain about, but the road got very rough and rocky. At one point there was a long, nearly 10-mile descent. Dave broke another spoke on his back wheel, but this time had a spare to replace it. In the afternoon we were dodging the widely scattered showers, which didn't amount to much, until we reached our destination for the day, the Beaverhead Work Station. This is a Forest Service facility where hot shot crews live. We decided to stay here because there was water and a phone. However, it was also a very busy place because it's the only pay phone for miles around. There was a steady stream of hunters driving in to use the phone until about 10 at night. Right after arriving we were witness to the most amazing rainbow. It rained hard that night, but nearly everything was dry by morning.

We knew today was going to be a hard day, with a pair of pretty significant 1000-foot climbs. The roads were initially pretty good, but soon got very rocky and rough. We were all a little tired since we hadn't had a rest day since Cuba - 8 days ago. So climbing, especially on rough roads, came with difficulty and slowly. There was one river crossing today and many, many stream crossings. Dave finally got the mud off his wheels from the terrible day south of Cuba.

We stopped for lunch about 2 pm and had two more big climbs to accomplish before our destination. We had to climb up to a ridge top above Black Canyon and then drop into the canyon, then climb back up to the next ridge top and drop into Rocky Canyon. There were great vistas from the top, but oh what a price we paid. We were uncertain whether there would be water at Rocky canyon so we watered up fully from the river in Black Canyon, which made the six mile climb out just that much harder. Dropping into Rocky Canyon we crossed a stream no less than a dozen times before arriving at the campground where there was a healthy little stream running through. Rocky Canyon is appropriately named by the way. Rarely have we ridden anything so rough, from the bedrock sticking out to the loose rock that had been washed down by the monsoon rains. It required all our skills just to get down safely.

There's nothing like a steep climb first thing in the morning. Today will mark the last of the mountains and any significant climbing. It is a bittersweet feeling. We have been above 6,000 feet since we left Salida, CO. We never expected New Mexico to be so green (thanks in part to all the rain) or so forested. We envisioned more sand and open vistas. This has been a pleasant surprise.

After the initial climb of 5-600 feet the general trend was going to be one of losing altitude, but there would be the rollercoaster ups and downs we'd come to expect from riding ridgetops, nothing is easy. It was windy again today and cool - temps only in the upper 50s and lower 60s. Our goals were simple today, ride for lunch into Membres, eat well, then do the final big climb and drop - or so we thought - into Silver City.

We got to Membres and the highway about 12:30 and ate at this nice little cafe. We pigged out, even had ice cream for dessert. Then we had to backtrack a couple miles to get back on the trail. Climbing up the old Georgetown road was hard on a full stomach, but thankfully it wasn't steep for too long and there had been some grading done on the washed out sections of the road. Near the top at the old Georgetown town site there was a fascinating cemetary with gravestones dating back to the mid-1800s. We lingered there for about a half hour before reaching the top and dropping down state highway 152 and the site of the massive Santa Rita copper mine - a hug hole in the ground surrounded by mountains tailings. Simply amazing.

Our old friend the wind was with us and stronger than ever. As soon as we turned onto the paved highway we were met with a steady wind of at least 20 mph and gusts up to 30. It was already getting late and we needed to cover 12-13 miles to get to the Silver City limits. But the terrain was rolling and we had to pedal to make progress downhill. We were already tired, but pushed on valiently. We got to the city limits after the sun had dropped behind the mountains to the west. In the dimming light we found the Drifter motel and got a room big enough for three people and three bikes.

We have at most 3 riding days to the border, most of it on pavement. We spent today updating the web page, checking email and just relaxing. Our goal now is to reduce weight. Our shuttle driver lives here in Silver City. We will leave behind the items we won't need for the next few days and travel as light as possible down to Antelope Wells.

Overall a pretty easy 40 miles today. The first 18 miles were on pavement and even with a pretty good pull out of Silver City it wasn't as tough as a lot of hills we've had to climb. Dropping weight helped a lot. Since we only have three days left to ride we are all riding with just one change of clothes - our evening wear, which is generally long pants and long-sleeved shirts, warmer stuff if we need it. Dropping my front panniers lightened the load considerably and also made the front end a little squirrelly, comparitively speaking.

Once we made the turn onto dirt there were a couple of little climbs, but otherwise the terrain was pretty flat and we were able to cruise along at 10-12 miles per hour. Part of the trail actually followed a barely descernable ridge that was the Continental Divide. We were in yucca desert, true wide open spaces. The maps had advised us to camp somewhere in this area - out in the middle of nowhere. After 30 miles we all felt strong so decided to push on further.

About a hundred yards down the road from where Mark repaired his flat we found the remains of the grill of a truck and off to the side of the road an injured cow. We had to think the two phenomena were related. Another five miles down the road we came upon a working ranch and informed them about the injured cow. The rancher said it wasn't his cow, but he knew who it belonged to and he'd give them a call.

There had been a spectacular star show over night, too bad this quiet place had been so noisy. When we all finally decided to retire for the evening there wasn't any breeze and all was quiet, but that didn't last long. Some time overnight the wind picked up and the rusty old windmill started churning - loudly! Though we were probably 75 feet away it sounded just like it was next to us. Then about two in the morning there was some kind of animal making all kinds of weird noises - screeching and howling. We'd read on the maps about the javelina, a wild boar native to this part of New Mexico that is said to be quite vicious. Not knowing what was out there in the dark, none of us wanted to get out of our tents to see. We were all wide awake for about a half hour while whatever it was made a bunch of racket in our camp.

Mark discovered more holes in his tubes this morning and had to fix them before we left. Once on the road it was pretty flat and easy, with a few sand pits thrown in for fun. The other fun aspect of the ride was the millions of locust littering the road way. These things look like big grasshoppers, about 3 - 4 inches long. They crunch real good under your tires. Swerving to hit them became a little like a video game. Later I discovered a thick rind of locust guts on my bike. E-w-w-w!

At the tiny crossroads of Separ we stopped at the trading post for snacks and phone calls. Separ is right on Interstate 10, where a constant parade of semis rolls east and west. From there we followed a gravel access road that paralleled the Interstate for about 8 miles before turning south on Hwy 146 towards Hachita, or goal for the day. We crossed the Continental Divide one last time before the border on the way to Hachita.

Hachita is not exactly what you'd call a thriving metropolitan area. It was obvious that some people lived there, but almost every other house was vacant. There were no businesses open. Keith had made contact with the post master from Pie Town as he was investigating ways to get back home. Vera Mora had told him she would make us burritos when we arrived. Since the post office was the only thing open, we stopped in and she graciously gave us each an ice cold can of Coke and a bottle of water and told us to stop by her house a block away around 5 to get the burritos.

Since it was only about two in the afternoon we went over to the abandoned grocery store and gas station where there was a shade canopy and a picnic table. We enjoyed a liesurely lunch as we tried to empty our packs of all remaining food. This is when I discovered that a can of mixed nuts that had been buried in a pannier since Grants had turned into a form of peanut butter. It was kind of gross.

Then we discovered that the one bar in town was open, so we went in. The grizzled old cowboy that runs the place only serves three kinds of beer - Miller Lite, Coors Light and Keystone Light. He quit serving Budweiser because the illegals would come in and want beer and that was the only word they knew. We talked to a bunch of the locals that wandered in and got a better idea of life in this part of New Mexico. None of them seemed especially fond of illegals.

After setting up camp and watching the sun set and the moon rise we took a walk down the lonesome highway in the dark. This probably wasn't the wisest thing we could've done because the area is absolutely swarming with Border Patrol agents driving big pick-ups with paddy wagons on the back and all kinds of high-tech tracking gear crammed into the cabs. Sure enough as we're walking along the dark highway a vehicle comes at us and stops. Three guys dressed in dark clothing on a lonesome highway in the middle of nowhere, only 40-some miles from the border. It kind of looks suspicious.

Hachita might be a virtual ghost town and the highways aren't traveled very much, but that doesn't mean it was a quiet and peaceful night. The RV camp was right at the intersection of two highways and we already knew there was a keen Border Patrol presence. Well, the Border Patrol would cruise through town and sit at the intersection for about 10-15 minutes then tear off in one direction or another as fast as they could. Then early in the morning, even before the sun had come up, the highway maintenance shop across the street came to life with heavy machinery filling dump trucks full of gravel and trucks backing up. Another not-so-restful night.

As we were finishing breakfast another biker came over. Dave from Toronto had a very bad day the day before. Keith had actually seen him as he was leaving Silver City a couple days before and had thought he'd catch up with us. But Dave from Toronto's luck was bad. He got something like six flats in one day and then lost his bike pump. Fortunately for him a guy grading the road we'd come down happened to spot it and picked it up. As Dave back-tracked to find it the grader driver gave it to him. But then his pump broke. He had arrived in Hachita long after dark and was coming over to our camp to see if he could buy or borrow a bike pump for the rest of his journey.

As bikers do we swapped tales of adventure and misadventure along the trail. Dave was on the second year along the trail. He had ridden from Banff, AB to Rawlins, WY last year, and had started in Rawlins this year and was about to finish out. He too was trying to work out the logistics of getting back to his car and then home. We told him about our shuttle driver and offered to see what we could do to get him to Demming where he could catch a bus.

We let Dave use one of our bike pumps and he set out about an hour before we were ready. He's a slow rider, he said, and we'd catch him anyway. Mark phone the shuttle driver and told him we'd be in Antelope Wells by 2:00 p.m. It was 45 miles to the border and we now had less than four hours to get there. Fortunately it was all pavement, there was hardly any wind and it was flat. We hammered, covering the distance in three hours and 15 minutes, with only one brief stop for fig newtons.