We woke up in the dark and silent Hachita community center at about 4am and stumbled around in the dark trying to... get ready as quietly as possible before wheeling our bikes past the sleeping other bikers and out the door. The sun was barely rising but the preglow of dawn was enough light for us to see as we headed the first 18 or so miles on road before a gas station and turned onto the first section of gravel for the trip. There were virtually no cars on the road so we traded bikes, rode side by side, and stopped a few times to change outfits as the desert air was not as cold as we expected for 5am. As the sun slowly rose, we got used to riding and warmed up our sore bodies. We then hopped onto a gravel frontage road along a bigger highway and went a few more bumpy and unpleasant miles until hitting a gas station, the last civilization before Silver City approximately 50 miles north, and the point where we would stop traversing New Mexico and start actually making headway towards Canada. As we stocked up on more snacks and failed to procure sunscreen from the sold-out gas station, Brent and Sonya emerged from the far side of the highway and regaled their tale of the evening before. They had apparently biked all the way to this gas station starting from about 5pm when they left us in the blazing heat. Brent was slow and had back pain so he had to stop every few minutes to stretch, so Sonya got to the end first. The gas station manager had told them they could stay and, mishearing the manager saying they could stay by the picnic tables in the front, they went to pitch tents in the back, which was private property. Thus, they were soon approached by the rancher who lived in the house behind the gas station and, brandishing a rifle at them, told them they were trespassing and had to leave. They told him they had nowhere else to stay and he said he would think about it but came back a few minutes later saying they had to leave. They then repacked everything, rode a few minutes to the other side of the highway and pitched a tent by the railroad. They slept poorly and were woken up often by the deafening trains that barreled past their tent every few minutes. Brent seemed in good spirits after finding hot coffee in the gas station but Sonya was displeased with their speed and mentioned wanting to split up and go her own way. Leaving them to figure out their own plans, we headed towards the large expanse of sand and gravel ahead of us. The first taste of real gravel felt great and Poppy ate up the sand almost faster than the asphalt and I rejoiced in how perfectly she was built for this purpose. Ziven even made a silly comment about how it was the best gravel he had ever ridden, which was not true then and even less true by the end of the trip. From the others at the gas station, we had heard there was a rancher sharing his hose to refill water. We reached the ranch and were hesitant about going in the gates because Ziven thought it was several miles further. We were brave and spoke to the rancher and his helper before they went out to gather cows and refilled our bottles and doused our shirts in water before having a snack in his lovely shade and hitting the road again. Outside of his house was a sign that said “Democrats keep your signs in your front yard so immigrants know whose door to knock on.” which was a bit confusing… did he genuinely want to give immigrants a place to stay or was he telling them not to stay there? We continued through the desert and wound our way through sometimes deep sand, around a woman with a tractor regrading the road, amongst cows, and up and down gentle slopes that in the heat felt very steep. We sought shade wherever we could and found a few shrubs to eat a snack under with some cows as we neared the end of the gravel. We saw a HUGE rattlesnake, but were a bit too tired to care. I was going slow and struggled to keep going, especially with nothing to distract me from my thoughts, be it an audiobook in my ears or stimulation for my eyes of any sort.

Hours later, we hit a bit of asphalt and wound through a tiny neighborhood of empty lots before popping out onto the highway. We were running a bit low on biking snacks and ate our last under a tree along the highway as cars occasionally zoomed past. On our map was marked a gas station/snack refill spot where I had my heart set on a cool drink to lower my temperature. Alas, the place did not exist anymore and we heartbreakingly started a climb. I met Ziven at the top with my soul almost broken, and descended almost all the way into town. Fighting headwinds the last little bit, we whipped out Google Maps to take us to a coffee shop and went through the small town cemetery and dry, dead looking parks before ending up in a somewhat shabby and downtrodden city. The downtown was fairly cute and we found a coffee shop and chugged most of my ice chai and Ziven’s boba. We got some snacks and more drinks from the co-op grocery store next door and asked around about places to camp. The barista said the closest place was more than 10 miles uphill and, though it was on route and it was only about 3pm, we decided against going further and making it an almost 90 mile day. Ziven discovered a Motel6 while I went to the bathroom and he booked it for $60. We pedaled about a mile more to the motel and begrudgingly lugged our bikes uphill to the grungy and a slightly scary room which ended up being a lot nicer than expected. We showered and layed down for a little bit before realizing we were close to never getting up again so we sadly left the air conditioning in search of dinner downtown. We rode our bikes back to the co-op where we did a wee bit of shopping and ate pizza next door. After we filled our bellies, we realized we still needed sunscreen and even more snacks!!! Google maps led us to a walmart where we secured everything needed and a bit more. As the sun set, we rode back to the Motel where we passed out for the night.

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