Day three to Pie Town;
I slept really well but gee it was a cold one this morning. I lay in my tent and contemplated whether to get up or just lie here for a few days! John, the guy who invited me to tea last night, popped over with a jug of coffee and an ‘over easy’ egg 😊. What a guy!! We sat chatting for ages but then I knew it was time to hit the road. I was only 35k from Pie Town but I also knew it was all uphill! Once I got going and overcame the initial feelings of fatigue and groaning body I actually felt better overall though no where close to what I’d call comfortable or confident. The Ks whiled away and the landscape took my mind off my diminished power output. The road dawdled up hill at a very respectable 4-5% so it was very manageable indeed and for the first time in a week I was starting to feel slightly human (only slightly but I’ll take that over ‘not at all’). Bob was whiring away nicely and I had adequate water on board to stop and gulp some every few kilometres.

I got to pie town in a few hours feeling pretty good. If I have any chance of overcoming this illness I have to give the body every fighting chance, which means just backing right off and accepting that I’ll only be good for a few hours a day, and no more. Pie Town is known for….its pies! Apparently the most expensive pies stateside but among the very best. I decided to head straight to what is called Toaster House (see photo of how it came to be). It’s simply an astonishing place just for hikers and bikers, completely donation based, where you can get a bed or camp. There’s a shower and tons of food left by prior visitors. I was the only cyclist there with the others all CDT walkers…..yep, nutters who walk from the Mexico border to Canada along the CDT….averaging about 6 months to do it!! Amazing folk, old and young alike. All suffering from blisters and sprains but also all living their best life out there on the trail. I had my first shower in days, cleaned Bob, and tried to eat and drink every hour as best I could. This community of like minded masochists is such a joy to be among and we all craved that connection after days of isolation from like minded folk.

Whilst there were beds I decided to crash on the floor in a quiet area inside so I knew I’d get some sleep, as these communal places tend to be filled with snorers! After a night of howling dogs the last thing I needed was a room full of snorers! I was just so happy to be among fellow travellers and not having to be so alone. Around 4:30 a guy rocks up at the shack with sodas and beers and cooked up a storm of ham and cheese rolls for us wandering souls – he explained that he’d been helped so often on the trails it’s his way of pay back….extraordinary people here that’s for sure. I needed to attend to a few blisters and cuts on my feet – there’s a full blown medi kit here so it was easy to rub in moisturiser and creams to my extremely dry and cracked skin. Mind you watching the hikers patch up their hands and feet made me grateful I had Bob! The evening was spent exchanging war stories and tales of joys and tears, a common language among long distance travellers. And because we were all hikers or bikers by 9pm there was not a sound to be had as everyone had tucked up for the night. It was the first night since Silver City that I wasn’t overly anxious or overly ill….delicious!

Pie Town recovery:
I used today to just decompress and try to work out what to do next! I walked to the famous Pie-O-Neer pie shop and indulged in a lump of pie and cream!! I’ll lose signal again soon but wanted to drop a blog so those following know I’m alive. It’s been a very challenging time these past few days/week but I’m starting to get better tho the chest remains very tight, and the fever is abating slowly. I have resigned myself to only getting 30-40 miles a day done as that’s all I can physically and mentally cope with. That’ll mean I’ll need to try get further north (drive or fly) so I have any chance of getting up to Canada! Right now that seems a million miles away!

What a barren landscape.

After three days of resting at this shoddy motel in Truth or Consequences I made the decision to try and get across to Pie Town, which is a stop point on the trail. It’s a 200+k ride across the mountains and ‘savannah’. There’s a stop at around 50k but after that I’m back on my own until Pie Town.

Before I share the experience I just wanted to thank everyone for posting on the blog. I truly appreciate the comments and unwavering support. It’s a significant help, especially when things are going not so good. I hope those who flick me a message don’t mind that I don’t reply….i read them all and appreciate every one….thank you.

Day 1 heading to Pie Town.
I was somewhat anxious setting off this morning to be honest, not really knowing how the body would react to the workload and heat. Getting out of T or C was pretty straightforward tho discernibly in an upward trajectory! I turned off the main highway outta town and headed in to the desert. It was early so there was little in the way of wind but what there was plenty of was…..desert and climbing. And those unending roads where you can see kilometres in front knowing that’s where you’re going. Talking of kilometres, I was excited thinking I had an easy number of Ks to ease back in to things….forgetting everything here is in miles! My heart sank!

Fairly early on on the ride it was very clear I was not recovered anywhere near enough for a long ride- I was coughing profusely, had nose bleeds, gunk being heaved up from the throat and lungs and generally just feeling very weak….all resulting in probably around 50% of the required output! And despite it being 30.+ I was wearing my ‘fowl weather’ Castelli Gabba as I continued to experience shivers.

I put the head down knowing that for today, if I got to Winston, there was a general store and likely water, so would stop there for the night, wild camping. Looking at the topography I knew there were two monster climbs ahead, so braced myself for that. And monster they were. The gradient wasn’t too brutal – around 6-8%, but the distance was tough. A few times I pushed Bob as I’d have snapped the chain otherwise. Then I was treated to a delicious downhill to Winston. It was midday and I was done. Alas…..the store doesn’t open on Tuesday or Wednesday 🤣🤣🥲. And today is Tuesday….Good god….just one break would be nice. Just one. Anyways, I resolved to stay around the store and see what eventuated as something always does! About an hour later Randy, the store owner, rocks up, and bingo, we get chatting and he’s happy for me to camp under his shop awning, opened the shop so I could grab something sugary, and showed me where the water spigot was and a power supply. Happy days. Randy was a true Christian cowboy type of guy, who loved the bible and his country in equal measure. So here I was, high in the mountains in a tiny settlement, and being helped to settle until I was ready to leave. I resolved there and then to just abandon the drive to drive on, and just relax in to the situation and the crazy experience. I certainly had recovered from 4 days ago, but in no way fit for anything more than 50k but….thats ok! No point getting frustrated that my grand plan was slipping away; had I not been sick I would not have met Randy and experienced Deep South community and its hospitality.

As the day wore on it was abundantly evident that there were no vehicles going up north where I needed to get to in order to get back on the Divide. It was another 155k to the next water, and on gravel that’s 3 days riding, given my current pace and health. Suddenly I felt very, very alone, and scared. I truly just wanted to be home, damaged ego….but alive and ok. I had done all the homework for this trip , and knew it would be very difficult….but I seriously underestimated both the terrain and the lack of water, and overestimated my capability and mental strength. For a second time in a week I was deeply distressed and actually quite frightened.

I cooked up some pasta which I barely ate as my stomach is so empty you then reach every time you try to eat. And then I lay down to let the evening take over. And then the dogs started!!! Omg….i had a flashback to a place in India – a cheap hotel situated next to a wasteland which was home to a pack of wild dogs which howled all night. There were dogs on the property here which were sporadically noisy, but there was some large pack up the hill which simply never ever stopped. Howling and barking the whole night. I drifted in and out of sleep as I was so tired. I recorded the howling at 5:30am when I decided to just get up and get going. It took over an hour faffing about but I kicked off at 7.

Day 2 to Pie Town.
The road out of Winston meandered on the edge of the desert /plains which passed by the road back up to Beaver Wood where I had been a few days earlier. And then it happened…..the lovely tarmac turned to gravel. I thought there was a section of it ‘unpaved’ but not the whole damn stretch. It was a crazy loose gravel ‘road’ that went straight across St. Augustine Plain, a huge stretch of open plain, no trees, no shelter. And of course, no water. The topography wasn’t too extreme which was a blessing, but as before it was almost easier going uphill than down….as down meant getting thrown all over the place and controlling Bob was near impossible.

Around about then, wherever that was, I knew. I couldn’t go on. I was done. Tired, hungry, sick, thirsty. Pretty crap place to come to that realisation don’t you think! Because there was absolutely nothing I could do about any one of those things. It was 9 in the morning, I’d gone 20 or so Ks, it was stupidly hot, and I was outta options. I sat by a mail box for a ranch which the map showed was 5 miles off the track and pondered my fate. I was in a pickle no matter which way I looked at it. And the only option out of where I was was to do the one thing I couldn’t….ride my bike! But ride it I did (for lack of alternatives!). Then….a weather beaten rancher and his dog came by on his quad bike, and his prognosis of my situation was not much better than my own. They were experiencing the worse drought in years, and all the water options, such as they were….were no more. For him as a rancher his own prognosis was equally dire…’if we don’t get rain in July…we are screwed’. I must have cut a pretty pathetic sight, as he took pity on me and said he’d go get his ute and take me 9 miles down the trail as he was visiting another rancher. He disappeared for 30 minutes and returned with a beast of a ute, threw Bob on board and handed me a sandwich! So he got to his friends and decided to take more pity on my situation and took me a total of 10 miles – leaving 10 less miles to get off the track and on the main road…and tarmac! What a hero. I battled on for the next few hours until the oddly named Very Large Array came in to view. This is a government intergalactic listening post. I decided to go check it out and find shade to consume my sandwich.

I turned on to the main road about 6k from the science listening thingy, towards Pie Town….straight in to a headwind on one of those interminable roads which went on for 16 miles, to the one and only stop in miles at Datil. I stumbled in to the shop and crashed at a table, unable to move. Pie Town was still 20 miles, but it may as well have been 200….i wasn’t going to get there today. I hacked in to the wifi and messaged my incredibly supportive Doc Mick, for advice. We both concurred we were getting close to a fairly dangerous point in respect of my health. The fever was back and I could only manage liquids. I wasn’t quite at 911 stage but the fingers were on the dial pad! Whatever this fever thing is it certainly is stubborn and resistant to rest! Whenever I feel ok I get on the bike but a few minutes later it’s like cycling through treacle. Undoubtedly there’s an element of dehydration and definitely a high dose of poor calorific intake, so I’m running a profound energy deficit which is accumulating every day!

As luck had it , there was a campsite 1.5k away so….i headed there, pitched up, and promptly fell asleep! In the evening I got chatting to two US travellers who invited me to tea, and not being one to offend I of course accepted. As we sat chatting the evening away I realised that THIS is what cycle touring is about – connecting with new people, sharing a meal, exploring new ideas. Here we were, complete strangers, on the edges of the NM desert, star watching (one of the campers had a very powerful telescope) and for a moment life was good. I also managed to keep the tea down too..bonus!!

My musical chorus in Winston

*Day 3 (feels like day 300)*

Last night we crashed at a hotel in downtown Silver City, an old mining town with historic buildings. The hotel certainly was historic…by that I mean it urgently needed updating! I had a bad night as I was having trouble swallowing and was def running a fever. And so it was when i eventually got out of a hideously soft bed the back of my throat was red raw 😥. I contacted my GP friend Mick who decided I should take the antibiotic he’d prescribed for my medical kit. We didn’t leave until late morning which was a mistake! We knew there was a campsite at the lake at the top of the climb today so off we headed…..uphill. On and on and on it went. I was feeling very poorly with a fever and an unrelenting thirst….a problem when you need to ration water intake as there is no water available until the campsite, 50+ k away. I can’t recall ever feeling so unwell on a bike. Chris ploughed on ahead whilst I spun the legs in the granny climbing gear and simply wished I was somewhere else! After over 2 hours of climbing we hit the top and had a great descent….until it started to climb again to Robert’s Lake. We stopped at a picnic campground (with no water) for a snack – we are both carrying food for 4-5 days so it’s ration time. Neither of us are anywhere near replacing what we are expending on KCals.

There’s a general store at Robert’s Lake so we gorged on coke cola and ice cream, only to realise the campsite was 3k away, up a bonkers climb. Despite the climbs tho the scenery has changed dramatically, to mountains and forests which gave some respite from the heat.

By the time we rolled in to this wild camping site I was totally spent and very unwell. I managed to get my tent up, clothes washed under a tap and crashed. There’s a path to the lake but I was too cooked to bother go and see. There’s no power, no wifi, no phone signal, so we were completely cut off from the outside world. A humbling experience. I’m not sure how I managed to ride today….just stubbornness I guess and muscle memory, just turning the pedals. I have suffered from leg cramps for years and today was also about trying to prevent that whilst not drinking too much of the precious water I’m carrying. I have four bottles and a camelback but it’s nowhere near enough to stay hydrated.

*Day 4: Lake Robert’s to Black Canyon. *

I awoke after a bloody cold night not helped by my fever. I had decided last evening to offload some clothes to a couple travelling in their humongous RV and asked them to hold on to the stuff till I email them once the ride had finished. I dropped about 2-3 KG but the bike is still too heavy. I set off before Chris to beat the heat. The first 8ks were on road but I knew straight away I’d be in trouble- simple no power. I was shivering despite layering up too. Once I turned off the road on to the gravel trail I knew it was the last chance to bail -once on this section there was no way back. The trail rose steeply uphill and within a K I was hike-a-biking – pushing Bob up this hill. And so it was for the whole day….unrelenting hills of sand and gravel, then downhills which were treacherous and dangerous-sand dips, gravel, rocks, steep drops off the sides….! I stopped at a rest site in a valley and tried to eat something but just threw it up. I knew there was a stream and camping area 10 miles on so I pushed for there. I made it after 6hours of cycling just 29miles! I chucked up my tent next to the stream, then sat in the water to cool off, then crashed out in the tent. It was loneliest place on earth and I felt very vulnerable- no one around, no power, no phone signal. I slept for 3 hours. I was feverish and sick, and peeing blood so I knew things were rough. When I awoke I went up to the second of the two camping areas and found Chris and another cyclist so we chatted for a while before I had to get back to my little spot by the stream. The wind was howling through the gulley so lighting my stove was an issue but needs must – there was a drop toilet block on the site so I sat in their and got my stove on and cooked up some pasta. I was force feeding myself as I knew I was desperately underfed. I curled up in my tent and slept.

*Day 5: The Best Laid Plans!*

The night was bitterly cold but I did sleep until around 5:30. I decamped, knowing there was a 4 mile climb out of the valley so I wanted to get that done as early as I could. I actually felt ok for a bit and cycled up the valley trail reasonably well-it was about a 5% incline but steady so I could spin the lightest gear I had. In all the time riding on Bob I must have used that granny gear a handful of times. Now…. It was the only gear I was using. Even the slightest incline was incredibly difficult. This is the longest stretch of the Divide with very limited water…at the best of times it’s limited, but now in a drought all the watering streams were dry. The Divide has what are called Divide Angels, people who run ranches and leave water and bars out for us stupid cyclists. My first encounter of one such place was around 20 miles in…oh the sweetness of Coke and a Powerade bar! I rested for an hour then when Chris arrived we chatted before I hit the trail again, knowing there were two peaks to crest before Beaverbrook waterhole. Oh sweet lord those two climbs were off the charts. But I slogged on, one mile at a time with countless stops.

I arrived at the US Government Beaverbrook station – not sure what they do there but it was deserted! But there was water! I lay on the picnic table under the trees and crashed. Chris arrived about an hour later. By now I knew I was in serious danger- the was no more water for 58 miles …at least 2 days of riding. I was vomiting, had a fever, and grossly unwell. By some miracle a government vehicle pulled up to offload some animals for the Station so I asked if they might drop me to the nearest town, some 133k away from whence they had come. They initially said no as they were not allowed to carry non government people, but two hours later they decided they couldn’t leave me there in that state! And so it was I found myself in a huge Dodge RAM heading for….Truth or Consequences! Honestly that’s the name of the place. The story is that in the 50s there was a TV program by that name which promised to record a series in any town that changed its name to Truth and Consequences!! It’s a hot springs town, a funky place full of alternative lifestyle folk and arty folk. I got dropped off in a small motel and crawled in to bed! The likely diagnosis is Valley Fever, a spore that is carried in dust storms and well known in New Mexico. I had developed a rash on my right leg like measles which was the first clue! Whatever it is it’s horrible! Vomiting and Diarrhea, fever and cramps….the order of the day! Not quite what i had in mind but hey-ho, you gotta roll the way the wind blows.

*Day 6: Truth or Consequences *

I had a restless night despite being in a bed. The aircon made such a noise it was hard to sleep. I visited the loo many a time this morning but also knew I needed to sort things out so set myself a reasonable schedule of tasks with lots of rest stops! Bob needed serious work including two punctures, clothes needed washing and I needed food and liquid. I had trouble getting food in to me as my body was rejecting it but despite hideous fatigue I didn’t feel very sick, just exhausted. I spent the day trying to recalibrate my plans….riding the Divide was looking increasingly unlikely given my condition but equally, the options of getting outta dodge seemed close to zero – as the receptionist at the motel said – look around you, everyone is depressed…that’s cos there’s no way out’! There are no buses. Few vehicles pass through. As a sense of desperation crept in I had to resign myself to having to cycle out, there simply was no other choice. I can’t say I’m overly happy about the prospect. It’s starting to dawn on me (slow learner!) that the divide is a challenge unlike any other and perhaps I’m simply not up to meeting it. Very practical things which I simply had not to concern myself with are an ever present issue- I’m riding so slow my dynamo doesn’t charge my power banks, so I have no way of charging a phone. There’s no signal in around 90 % of the route. There’s no water options….only dried up streams. You have to therefore carry days of water with you, not only for drinking but also for cooking, washing etc. there are food stops about every 150 miles so you have to carry food. I certainly knew about the last two challenges as it’s well documented but I guess I didn’t understand the logistics of managing that challenge , and then not factoring in the drought here in New Mexico. It’s a humbling experience that’s for sure. It’s also terrifying! A sense of being so unwell and so stuck!

I made the decision to take another night here as I know in my heart that I’m only 50% better and had no chance of riding out tomorrow.

VIDEOS

After a pretty rough nights sleep – tenting takes a while to get back in to the swing of it, so I tossed and turned all night, deciding I’d had enough by 6, so got up and went for a walk with my loo shovel and paper for morning offload! No toilets here! After decamping and having a measly excuse for a breakfast I headed off while Chris was still resting. He’s completely new to bike touring (yep, me too, I asked the same question….WTF you doing tackling the Divide!) He has great spirit but will learn the hard way that leaving later means hitting the midday sun and afternoon winds (which is exactly what happened!)

As I left I realised how I had relied on Chris and his whiz bang navigating app. Suddenly I realised I had to start map reading – the trail has its own dedicated map system which I had pre ordered and had sent to Jeffery’s.
What I also quickly realised is that every mile is a slog. After 1.5 hours of grinding riding I had travelled 12.5 miles! Progress is slow! There has been a drought here so the trail is all washboard and dust/sand. You’d crest a hill, freewheel down only to hit a sand patch at the bottom and the bike just….stops! Everything on the bike (including the rider) is pummelled. I had to stop many times to get my bearings and try follow the narrative on the maps describing each turn and ‘landmark’….in a barren landscape that meant wind towers and cattle grids. After 3 hours I emerged from that section of the Divide on to a road….tarmac, smooth. it was divine! I stopped at an RV park to have a rest and a morning pitta bread and Nutella before the final 12 miles to Silver City. I arrived a complete wreck to be honest and Bob was a total mess! The hotel was shut until 2 so I decided to head out of town and indulge in a McDonald’s! Junk food was perfect! Whilst sitting minding my business two older women at the table next to me were debating Trump:

“He really is trying to make America great”
“He’s a builder, he’s a deal maker, you can’t be stupid and be that successful”
I was tempted to make a few factual contributions to their enthralling narrative but decided it wasn’t wise. It’s interesting here as you need to await a persons expression of their voting before making any statement. Like last night the ranch owners starting spewing about their hatred of Mexicans (despite all their cattle hands being ….Mexican) so once they have said how they lean you then know what to say. In that scenario I said nothing but politely nodded as I wanted to camp!

I checked in to a hotel later, then had some work to do on Bob despite every bone in my body screaming for a sleep. I found a community bike repair place – like the one I volunteer with in Cork – so was able to book a work stand and fix all that was broken on Bob!

I met up with Chris around 5 who was totally buggered. He’d done the same route but it took 3 hours more. He said, pointing to the map…’and that’s where I stopped and cried’. I’m a relatively experienced cycle tourer tho by my luggage weight you’d not know it – and I’m finding this very challenging. Chris is a big unit, weighing easily 20kg more than me, and has no experience. I love his spirit but the Divide takes no prisoners. I have no idea if I’ll get anywhere close to Canada….but I’m sure Chris knows he won’t.

The next 3-5 days are all remote cycling -no food stores, no electricity, no signal, and water comes from streams! I’m quite unsure how I’ll go with that length of isolation, but once I get on the trail I’m committed-it’s an ‘all or nothing’ part of the Divide, with some of the hardest climbs on the route awaiting me. I have to have everything I need when I leave Silver City or I’m stuffed! That means a ton more weight on an already overloaded bike!! What could possibly go wrong!! Wish me luck, I’m gonna need it. I’ll see you on the other side!

Dust Storm

As I traveled on the last leg of the flight to El Paso I sat next to a couple who live in the town. They enquired when I was planning to ride to Hachita, the start of the Divide for me (about 45k from the official start). I noted I’d be going on Tuesday. You know when you say something to someone and their look says something you don’t want to hear! Well, they proceeded to tell me that Tuesday was an extremely windy day…westerly…(headwinds), with dust storms and temps of 34-36!

On Monday morning I awoke after a restless night, jet lag and a noisy highway outside the hotel. I knew I simply wasn’t going to enjoy an 80 mile ride on a highway in those conditions as my first day of riding. I knew another rider going north bound was getting a lift from a guy called Jeff who runs a bike ranch in the desert outside Hachita. So at 7 I made the decision to hitch a lift with Chris and Jeff. Jeff was quite a character, hosting us long distance riders doing the Divide. As we drive across mile after mile of barren wilderness with the ‘wall’ just 100 metres from the road, I knew I had made the right decision! By Monday evening the winds were picking up and the dust storms arrived! Chris decided to ride from Antelope Wells back to the Ranch in the evening/night….i decided to read and relax! And then tried to repack and load up Bob. We had stopped outside El Paso to get supplies….no supermarket now until Silver City, so stocked up for a few days. Never easy to be in a shop with a 1000 products and you can only have about 4% of what’s on offer as every gram has to be hauled up every hill!!

After a snack in the evening …..I haven’t had a good meal since Cork, we retired to our cabin. Well, Chris did, as he snored the damn roof off after about 10 minutes. I decided to go in to the main house and sleep on the floor there. I was awoken by a bright eyed and bushy tailed Jeff at 6….sweet lord, all I wanted was to sleep! Anyways, eventually we got loaded up and it was then I realised my bike was outrageously overweight. Just stupidly so. Once I got on it it wasn’t too bad to ride by I knew there and then there was no way I’d be able to ride the trails with this load. The first stretch was tarmac with a rising rail/cross for around 20 miles, across a dust bowl arid landscape with only cacti for company. At the intersection of the interstate highway we started our first bit of gravel and I got my first puncture! A pinch flat. The winds were picking up so we had 9 mile stretch in to the wind before the one and only shop. We stopped there for food and water, then tried to call a camp ranch to stay, about 20 miles north. We were told they were full but we could stop for water and shade. As we left Separ the real Divide started, with hideous washboarding and sand, heat and a rising dust storm , peaking at around 32mph (yes, that’s mph!).

I nearly lost the bike a few times as it bogged down with the weight in to the sand, then my pannier flew off with the corrugating trail. I was truly struggling with the weight and exhausted from the heat, but we knew we had 52miles before any campsite. This truly was the Divide experience that it’s fabled for ….just pure brutal. Eventually we arrived at Thorn Ranch for water and rest. The owners told us a massive dust storm was about to hit so they let us stay in the ‘cowboys’ quarters garden which had a bit of protection with a low wall. We were so so grateful. After a wash from a garden hose and tents pitched we spent the following hours sheltering from the incredible dust storm, which peaked at 51mph. I was so done and so hungry but there was no way of lighting a stove! So it was pitta bread and Nutella for tea! I know I need to get a big feed tomorrow in Silver City. So that’s day 1, only 48 miles done, 1 puncture, one dust storm and a true Divide experience unfolding ….and it’s every bit as testing and demanding as its ’toughest gravel trail’ deserves. All I can do is go slow, try to drink as much as I can and only think of one day at a time as the prospect of this for another near 3000 miles is simply too much. I know theres tons of climbing ahead – at the ranch we were at 5,000ft and every day for the next 3 weeks at least there’s a minimum 2000+ft of climbing. Every day! I’m not sure quite what I need to jettison as everything I have I’ll need at some point. Now it’s 36 degrees so hauling thermals and long sleeve tops seems stupid but out of NM the temps will drop! The fact I’m carrying 4litres of water, 700ml of petrol and 3-4kg of food is the killer! I’ll just have to get used to walking!