Writing this post feels radically different from writing the rest of the series. I'm home in Boulder in clean clothes, sitting on a comfortable chair inside my warm apartment. Noises from outside and the faint hum of my refrigerator steal my attention away.
Well, the trip is over. I rode the entire Great Divide all the way to the Mexican border!
After seven weeks, 45 days of riding, 2,860 miles and 200,700 feet of climbing, we made it to Mexico. Out of the ~30 riders that started, around 20 remained to the end. I think all of us were pushed to our limits and sometimes beyond on this trip.
After my last post we rode to the town of Grants where we had a rest day. The ride into Grants took us through pine forests and eventually down into a desert environment. There were lots of fun gullies to ride through - down one side into sand, then across a small stream, and finally out of the sand back onto gravel.
In Grants we spent lots of time at the breweries as there wasn't much else to do in the town. The first night we ate massive pulled pork sandwiches and played foosball and pool.
Flo and I were clearly out of our league in both games as Dave and Felix had had, ahem, much more time to hone their skills. After we headed home, I learned that Felix and Jeroen had hitched a ride to Albuquerque instead of walking back to the hotel! They spent the night in the city and returned to Grants around 3am - the entire group was impressed and shocked.
The next morning we hopped onto our bikes and began the long, 92-mile ride into Pie Town. Since the beginning, many of us had been looking forward to this day purely based on the name of the town. It's a huge landmark on the GDMBR and eating pie is a requirement to finishing the ride.
The gravel road cut across the desert, climbing and descending countless small hills. Despite the rest day, I felt fatigue throughout my body from the previous week (and probably the beer). Although my legs were fine I felt sluggish and lacked energy. After lunch and two Cokes I felt better for a few hours but found myself plodding into Pie Town.
The landmark town is home to around 180 people and three pie shops - yielding the excellent density of one pie shop for every sixty people. Unfortunately I arrived after the destination cafe Pie-O-Neer had closed for the day. We slept peacefully, knowing the next day's ride was short enough for a morning pie stop.
In the morning we rode up to Pie-O-Neer and sat on the porch until they opened. Dave insisted that we wait for them to open as he claimed it's the flagship pie shop - he wouldn't settle for the other pie shop which was already open.
The shop is full of memorabilia and historic photos of Pie Town. At the front is a case of around twelve different types of pie, from blueberry lemon to creme brulee to apple and green chile! I opted for blueberry lemon - definitely worth the wait.
The rest of the day went smoothly as we rode along a dirt road until it intersected New Mexico Highway 12, where the van was waiting to shuttle us to Cruzville. We spent the afternoon at the grassy campsite watching a storm build just east of us - we were surrounded by dark clouds and lightning on three sides but only experienced a few drops of rain.
In the morning we were shuttled back to Highway 12. The trip leader Rob had paid two locals to drive some of us so I took a trip in a pickup truck. The driver was a hunter who only hunted animals he could eat - which excluded bear as their meat is too greasy for him. Who knew.
When we were dropped off we realized we were a few miles from where we ended the day before. Dave and I, having taken no shortcuts at this point, decided to ride back to the previous day's endpoint and start from there. We had come so far without taking the van or any alternative routes that we felt we had to claim those four extra miles. As we rode back, Ritse joined us - he hadn't taken any shortcuts or alternates either, and we all agreed we were doing the right thing.
As we began riding south once more, we started to see signs for a road closure seventeen miles away. As we approached the closure, we started to ride into a steep-walled canyon. Soon enough we understood the closure - the road had been washed out by a destructive flood. Some parts were fine but most of the road was covered in boulders, eroded or had reverted to a riverbed.
We had to walk about a third of the road, taking paths along the banks or riding the rocks. Eventually we reached the other end where the road was in a state of good repair. Seeing this destruction made me appreciate the ferocity of New Mexican rainstorms - it was clear a massive amount of water had rushed through this canyon.
As we rode along, the sky darkened. We found ourselves in a light rain shower. Dave and I continued along with our rain jackets on. We had heard that the mud in New Mexico can cling to bikes and render them unrideable, so we both felt the need to press on. The road became muddier and muddier, and our tires slowly became coated in mud. However, the bikes continued working fine!
Only a light coating of mud - nothing to be concerned about. The rain also made for some excellent views:
We soon arrived at Beaverhead Workcenter, a strange government outpost in Gila National Forest. We arrived in the rain and heard tales from other riders that they had to stop and scrape mud off their bikes multiple times. Dave and I shrugged our shoulders - clearly we missed the worst of the rain.
The next two days were also rainy. The next day's ride into Roberts Lake was the final day of the tour with significant climbing - luckily it was dry until the last six miles. I descended into camp in a total downpour and stood under a tarp for at least an hour waiting for the rain to subside. We also saw the highway crew cleaning up a washout!
Soon enough it stopped and we set up camp - but overnight I was woken by thunder. In the morning nothing had dried out and my tent was soaked. A few folks decided not to ride, but Dave and I knew we had to take our bikes. We bit the bullet and put away soaking wet tents, then put on dripping wet shoes and rode off.
After about fifteen minutes of riding the rain stopped! We continued through the Gila National Forest as the clouds slowly parted. We could see the remnants of the storm in the distance.
At the end of the day we reached a hotel in Silver City. The town has a nice downtown with old buildings, and a whopping population of 9,000 people. Dave, Felix and Flo headed to the brewery, but I had to stop for coffee to stay awake. The fatigue was really setting in - we had only ridden 30 miles but I was exhausted.
For our final two days of riding we had minimal climbing left. We rode to Separ, only home to a highwayside souvenir store, through the desert. I had expected desert for a week so after the forest riding it was an exciting novelty.
At the end of the day we saw our first sign for Antelope Wells! I noticed the sign from a distance and had to ride over immediately. We had almost finished our trip to Mexico!
The air around the hotel was buzzing with excitement that night. We were so close to the goal we had set seven weeks ago, which had felt incredibly distant for the last six! Although the fatigue had sunk into my body, I knew I could finish. Except for the next 65 miles, I had completed Every Fine Inch of the Great Divide.
That night the crew threw us a bit of a party. Anneke cooked up an amazing meal of asparagus and mint salad, tacos and shrimp and chicken skewers. Jim contributed with a margarita bar. The beer and tequila flowed for hours! We stayed up a bit later than maybe we should have, although there was only one more day!
I struggled through breakfast the next morning. Soon after the start of the ride I found myself in the back with Rob, who kept stopping to make me model for photos. From the Antelope Wells sign we rode to Hachita, where we met up with some other riders for a break. I had a Coke to make up the calories I had missed at breakfast. Feeling better, we continued on past a few Hachita landmarks:
Riding quickly out of town, we were treated to some more rain showers. Surrounded by the empty desert, I was grateful for the mild winds - Rob was surprised we didn't have a strong headwind. After seven weeks it would have been hard to endure a headwind on the last day.
At lunch the sky was out again. My parents were driving out from Tucson and were worried they would arrive at the border late - I knew there was no chance of that. Just as I was getting ready to set off from lunch, they pulled up in a silver SUV! We said a few hellos and continued on separately.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. Towards the end I noticed mile markers counting down from fifteen - at this point the exhaustion had hit again and I was just focusing on spinning the pedals, watching the miles tick down. A few weeks ago I had felt like I wanted to keep riding into Mexico, but that day I just wanted to reach the end.
Finally we saw the border outpost. Rob and I rode in together, last - the entire group was there. Jeroen handed me a glass of champagne as I arrived, and I made a quick excursion to the actual border. I snapped a few photos (above) and rode back to the group. I hugged my mom and dad and fist-bumped with Dave - emotions were high.
We all posed for some photos with the Antelope Wells Border Station sign:
The entire crew of riders
Flo, Dave, me, and Felix
Riding buddies - Dave and me!
I jumped into the car with my mom and dad for the long trip back to Tucson. The next two days were a whirlwind of packing up, last hours together and finally goodbyes as the group dispersed. As I sit here I miss the great community we had together - camping, making lunch, washing dishes, and of course riding. Although the trip felt endless at times, we made it through together.
I'm sure I'll be back out on a long-distance trip soon enough. I took a few days off but was back on my bike today. It's good to be home to catch up with friends, but I'm still adapting to normal life. Although sleeping in my own bed is really nice.
I like to think about what I can take away from vacations or big trips and incorporate into my life going forward. Sometimes the takeaway is simple - for example after a trip to France where we ate a lot of fruit I started to eat fruit every day.
For this trip, it's a bit early to tell, but one takeaway is how wonderful it is to live in the moment and worry just about what's in front of you. For seven weeks we were mostly disconnected from worries about our lives or the world. Life moved at the slow pace of a bicycle.
Anyway - I'll probably be back in the workforce soon and will have to start dreaming of my next bike trip. I hope this series has been interesting and might inspire you to jump on your bike for a spin around the neighborhood - or further. Thanks for reading!