We awoke and while Ziven went to the bathroom I sorted out packing up our tent and then faced our water problem. It appeared that we would have to bike to the lake and filter all 8 of our storage liters, a task that would take quite a while.... Luckily, we were camping right next to the host and be it because of my beguiling good looks or, more likely, my sad croaky voice and general patheticness, or, as he later told me, because he does this for all hikers and bikers, the camp host reached into his cab and brought out a 8 gallon tank of clean water from town and said go crazy. I filled all of our storage pouches and am amazed Ziven came back to a campsite where I had seemingly performed a Jesus-y miracle of turning dust and aspen leaves into water. I eventually fessed up to my luck of having caught the camp host before he went into town and would be away all day. Happily having saved half an hour of filtering, we packed up and set off.

Today was the day! We would be in home sweet Colorado by nightfall (and hopefully a little before to avoid another race against the light) *for context I am from Boulder, CO and had been excited to return to my motherland throughout the entirety of NM.

We started off still on gravel roads in the high hills and continued climbing for most of the morning. There were some rain clouds far off in the distance but luckily they never caught us as we wound up and up and up. The landscape was starting to get more alpine, with pine trees and more aspens popping up as we neared the Colorado border. One expansive high clearing boasted a trio of wild mustangs and I slowed to observe them while Ziven caught up to me. Alas, my squeaky back brake spooked them and they started stampeding towards me for a split second, causing me to panic and tip over on my butt. Ziven caught up and giggled at my prone position and marveled at the horses before we kept moving, me with eyes in the back of my head ready for any sudden movement from the now scary horses. We eventually topped out at a beautiful pass with vistas all around and stopped at a small creek to filter some water and have a rest. We were quite tired from all the climbing and enjoyed the pristine views. Before we descended we went through a tunnel of dark forest and eventually caught up with a Subaru that had passed us long before. It was parked deep in the brush and already looked like it had been there for a year. Most of the road was not wet but the deep ruts were filled with water from previous rain. They were generally easy to avoid but, of course, Ziven put magnets into my bike that attracted me to any sort of silliness so, while trying to ford a small stream, I tipped over in the opposite direction and ended elbow deep in the gutter along the side of the dirt road. Covered in mud, I moped for a while before setting off again into the somewhat spooky woods. We climbed a bit after this flat section and soon emerged onto a summit where the wind whistled menacingly and the road got really rocky and steep for a short section. We pushed our bikes up the hill as we had no momentum to start and thankfully reentered the trees. Unthankfully, the road was still quite rocky and the ruts were no longer filled with water but instead took up half the road. I had a run in with one of these ruts on a particularly steep section where I was once again magnetically pulled into the depths of a rut, hit the wall head on and bounced off to my butt, unhurt but annoyed and done with this silly road. The descent wove around bushes and grass and I performed some impressive out of my league maneuvers to avoid more ruts and bumped on down the road until I found myself at the top of a scree field. The large, flattish grey rocks were perfectly stacked on the road and thick forest on either side made it the fastest but sketchiest way down. Ziven had the skills and bravery to just hop on his bike and trundle down over the rocks but I was still new to this sort of riding and dismounted, picking my way down the slope that was probably more treacherous by foot. It was slow going for me and Ziven soon backtracked by foot to check on me, quickly getting exasperated at my progress and panicking that we would be stuck on this mountain forever if I didn’t get a move on. Already crying from fear of losing control of Poppy and sliding down the slope, I tried to pick up my speed and managed an ungainly jog/hop between the rocks as I made my way down. This was one of the low points for both of us, even though in other situations it would be a stunningly beautiful landscape. Eventually the road got smoother and I regained control of my emotions and my bike, hopping on and pedaling as fast as I could to avoid any more reprimands from Ziven. We trundled down into a new valley and eventually merged with an ATV road. We spotted some off-roaders and a sign that said “Colorado 4 miles” and pointed straight into the woods. Unfortunately we were going left instead of straight and had to struggle up a steep rocky slope, which I impressively did without putting a foot down, much to Ziven’s disbelief. We then hopped over into another valley and descended along a huge bend to a river bed where we finally crossed a cattle grate that separated New Mexico from Colorado.

ONE STATE DOWN BABAY! Happy to leave behind my traumatizing memories of New Mexico, I climbed up the final gravel section of the day before we crossed some old railroad tracks and popped out at a historic landmark on the shoulder of a small highway. A man and his wife pulled up to us in their ATV as we read the signs about the historic railroads and mining and asked where we had biked from. We said “Mexico” and he was astonished, commenting on my still prominent road rash from day 3 and saying he was proud of us. Bolstered by this support, we completed our final climb of the day, a slow and steady up the highway and around another huge bend where the railroad stopped at a tiny settlement of cute cabins and houses. The area was perfect for a remote vacation home and we gloried in the lovely mountain air as the sun sank. Once we reached the top of La Manga Pass, we dropped down into the next valley over and enjoyed a screaming descent as the sun set over some spectacular Colorado mountains. We were supposed to turn left at a campground before a bridge over a river, but Ziven kept going to ride out the speed from the downhill. Following him, I spotted Red Bear Lodge and a big flag that said “Ice cream” next to one that said “Chicken Nuggets” - THIS was a place for us. We parked our bikes and grabbed jackets before heading into the lodge. The owners informed us we were there right before the kitchen closed and we rushed to place orders for burgers and chicken nuggets, grabbing ice cream to eat while we waited. We logged onto the WiFi and enjoyed our first taste of Colorado hospitality as well as the afterglow hitting the mountain looming over the small town. The owner eventually came over and offered us use of their shower and added that we could camp anywhere in the expansive lawn. Astounded at the hospitality we quickly agreed and took turns taking a much needed shower in the little bathroom/pantry/storage room next to the kitchen. We then pitched our tent in between some ATVs, which the lodge also rented, and enjoyed the WiFi that just about reached our tent from the lobby. We got ready for bed and trekked to the Porta potty left for us in the parking lot, locating the source of the ruckus as a rather inebriated local chatting up the lodge owner. They eventually persuaded the man to go home and we fell asleep quickly in the quiet, shielded from the gentle wind by two fancy ATVs.