Day 23: Grants

124 miles until Grants all on paved roads called the Chaco alternate. Due to the every day thunderstorms the original route become impassable when wet. That’s the reason for the two alternative routes in New Mexico both on paved roads. Both are more or less flat with the typical every day hilly up and down game. Like the day before I left the motel at 4:00 pm.

Today it’s gonna be dog day! I heard the beasts at the junction to the Chaco alternate very close behind the city limit of Cuba. I turned my head and in the light beam of my flashlight I looked in several pairs of glowing eyes. Actually, not funny at all! How nice that my bear spray and the dog dazer were on the way to Vegas! As the pack started their hunt I was very glad about the smooth descending road. I switched some gears higher and speeded up my bike as fast as someone with 22 days Tour Divide in his legs was able to accomplish. But I was not able to keep the pace any longer than one minute. Fortunately the barking faded away, a sign to me that my escape was successful. I slowed just a little bit down and was completely exhausted. Such sprints with a full loaded bike in the dark are not supportive for the vital forces. More of those sprints today and I would need one additional day for recovering.

The area where I was riding through was Navajo area. If I saw any houses I always kept my eyes wide open for dogs. The sun was covered by clouds what made the ride more convenient. The second attack came just a few miles before Pueblo Pintado. The dude in front of the house didn’t give a damn about his dog that was slipping through the fence and right onto the road. The luck was on my side a second time. The road was descending, but the beast was pretty fast. He abandoned his chase not until he noticed that I was faster. I deeply regretted that my bear spray was on the way to Nevada. What a dog polluted area I was getting into?

Landscape wise hilly dry bush veld took turns with some nice rock formations. In the meantime the sun heated up the pavement and made riding to a sweaty affair. The road was peppered with these damn mile marker that counting either up or down the miles and show you without any mercy where your deficits are. I had always to remember the sentence from Georg Deck that he had to learn on the TD how long a mile could be. Very true! And counting down 124 miles ... .

I didn't know if I saw first the flock of sheep or heard the barking dogs, but they already headed on towards me. This time I was a little bit more relaxed, because there was at least a distance from 1500 feet or more between the dogs and me and the road descended for the third time. So I had not to speed up like one possessed, but I slowly increased my speed to about 30mi/h. No chance for the dogs. Some miles later I was wondering about this bumpy road. With every turn of the wheel I got a bump. As I inspected the road I couldn't see any reason for the bumps. The road was just fine. But as I cast an eye at my rear tire I saw the misery. A bulge like an egg was decorating my tire. What the hell was that? I immediately got off my bike and analyzed the problem. First I thought the notubes sealant was dissolving my tire, but it didn't. The profile was as worn out that the inside pressure pressed the thin tire to the outside. What a bummer! With this egg I was not able to ride anymore. I don't like to think what might happened if the tire burst at one of my dog getaways. A big mistake to rely on the paved sections here in New Mexico and not to change at least the rear tire in Salida. What to do now? Maybe if I would line in a tube would take away the pressure from the weak spot and I could go on. The other option was pushing the bike under the hot sun until Milan or Grants what would take two or three hours.

I deflated the tire, lined in a tube, took my pump and ... nothing! Am I at Candid Camera? The heat and the sleep deprivation let work the mind slow, so I got some seconds until I really realized that my pump (worked always before) was done. It was obviously, someone was kidding me. I tried to figure out where the problem with the pump was. Disassembled and assembled the pump several times without any success. Unbelievable! For sure, since New Mexico I was attracting the misery. I must be in a bad road movie, because in the near rock formation I heard the Coyotes yowling. To make a long story short, during I pushed my bike towards Grants I had also the option in my mind to quit the race, because neither Milan nor Grants had any bike service. To finish the race without missing my flight back I needed a tire. Today! Totally exhausted from the heat I hit the Main street of Milan. An older man on his bike asked me if I would need a pump. Yes I did! He pulled out a pump out of his pocket. With an adapter I was able to pump up my tire. But the egg still remained even with an inner tube. So a pump wouldn't have provided a solution to the problem. On my question for a bike shop I got an answer but I was not able to understand this guy at all. Not a single word! Carefully I tried to ride the 5 miles until Grants. The egg slowly disappeared. I rode up and down the main street to find any possibility for a tire replacement. Nothing! I phoned my wife to tell her about quitting the race. I really wasn't sad about it and I was just fine with it. No regrets. Nothing! After the call I gave myself a last chance and stopped at a shop for car tires and ask someone if he had any idea where I could find a tire for a mountain bike. He sent me to the Walmart. Of course, my lock was in the parcel to Vegas too. I parked my bike behind three older ladies who were collecting money for a charity organization. I asked them if they would keep an eye on my bike. They agreed! In the sport section of this really big market I scanned the racks for tires. I saw some bikes but no tires. First I discovered the pumps, but without a tire no pump. I was just about abandoning all my hopes as I saw some small boxes in one corner of a rack. Tires. Now the question: 29er or just 26er? And in fact they had 29er tires. Ok, the profile like a compactor and heavy like a downhill version, but a 2.35er 29er tire. I also took a pump where I understood the corresponding adapter for the presta valve was inside the pump. 

The old ladies did a great job. I took my bike and started to change my tire in front of the supermarket. Of course, I had to explain two times what I am doing here, where I come from and where I am going to. But in the meantime it was like I swallowed a record. First I reeled down my standard text and then had to answer a lot of questions. 15 minutes later I was ready to check in for a motel. Right across the street the motel chains had its location. As I left the Walmart I met Ed again. He was just about to heading on to Pie town. No way for me today! I needed all my power for the long push tomorrow. 260 miles in one push to Silver City claimed for some rest. In addition the thunderstorms were rolling in. Maybe this was the last time I saw him. 

I took a bath, did my laundry the last time and phoned my wife that I am back in the race. I did a short nap before I returned to the Walmart for a full resupply. Because we didn't know anything about the resupply possibilities on the second fire reroute I stocked up all my drinks and food to the top. In the evening Denny's gave me the chance for some pasta!

     

Day 22: Cuba - a day to cancel!

At an unearthly hour the rude alarm clock tore us apart from sleep. Grants was our common goal for today’s ride. With entering New Mexico an early start was mandatory for me. The advantages: 1. No headwind until midday. 2. No thunderstorms until early afternoon. 3. Riding in the chill of the morning until the heat came in. The way to Grants was an almost 200 mile all paved ride on, compared to the last days, relatively plain terrain. Also the first fire reroute was scheduled for today. This reroute until Cuba would save some major climbs on the original route and was with 60 miles shorter than that. We got an email from Matthew Lee about the two fire reroutes several days before together with a route description. There was no GPS track available. I read the email more than twice but not today or yesterday. A fatal mistake! After our standard self made early start breakfast we were riding out of Abiquiu at 3:30 am. Surprisingly my legs were in a very good shape and we made a good pace. After two miles I already pulled off my leg warmers and my wind vest. A few further miles Thomas had to do his "bigger business" right next to the road. I decided to go on. That was my second big mistake. So I was riding and riding and riding with a really good pace on road 84. Even climbing was no matter today. With this pace I would be in Cuba for a second breakfast at about 10:00 am. I also decided to send all the stuff that I really wouldn’t need anymore already to Las Vegas, where I would fly back to Germany in one week.
At 5:30 am I switched off my flashlight and was wondering about Thomas. Where has he got to? Usually he was always faster than me and able to catch me up in a short time. But even on that prospective road no trace of him. I explained it to me that even Thomas could have a bad day and I had a really good one. The road had its typical stretched climbs and downhills. The sky was cloudy at this morning so the temperature was very comfortable. After a while I saw a billboard with an advertisement about any touristic region in Colorado. Very strange! Why on the way to Cuba there is an advertisement about Colorado? I needed some further miles until I got that I had totally got lost. I finally checked the direction where I was heading to on my GPS. The arrow that indicated the travelling direction always pointed to the north. But normally I had to move toward west. I scrolled down the screen to check where the reroute hit the original track again. Oh my goodness! The insight came drop by drop. I immediately checked the email from Matthew and I got ruthless at the painful knowledge about my own bloody stupidity. I got tears in my eyes, but that were tears of anger. Yes, so much stupidity at once really is saddening. For a short while I stood in shock. It took a while until I was able to gather my thoughts again. I calculated my options. Getting to Grants today and finishing in less than 25 days was now out of sight. Spending a night ride until Grants was not possible, because I just needed a night ride for the second fire reroute two days later. Two night rides and the second one with more than 250 miles overall would definitely exceed all my optimism and the faith in my endurance skills. There was no other option than backtracking until the junction of road 96. That would mean about 40 miles. Overall the whole unintended excursion cost me 80 miles and 6500 feet of climbing. Unfortunately this excursion did not remain undiscovered. A lot of people at home were following my misery online on Trackleaders.com and later on I had to answer all these nagging questions what happened there and I got a feedback how helpless they were sitting in front of the screen without any possibility to inform me about my failure. But that’s the Tour Divide - recognize your own mistakes, correct it and live with it.

I just tried to flag down a car that could drive me back to the junction with road 96, but without success. Who would like to pick up a dirty and stinky rider with an also dirty bike? After a while I abandoned all my hope for a quick trip back and got back onto my saddle. During the ride back it welled up inside me like a volcano wanting to bubble over. And of course I was just about to scrap the whole thing again. It was just a small comfort as I saw these gorgeous rock formations very similar to that one I had already seen in the Staircase Escalate National Monument in Utah a few years before. This is a real drawback of riding in the dark - the missing landscape.

It was past noon as I reached the junction to road 96. 80 miles just dust in the wind and my legs felt like the same. The sun was burning hot and a light headwind came up. Except the Abiquiu lake, that I should already have passed in the early morning, the boring landscape was not able to pull me out of my dark mood. I couldn’t calm myself down at all. What a bummer! I tried to kill the time with ranting and raving. I passed the jerkwater town of Coyote and stopped at a small grocery store right next to the road. After a quick resupply I took a seat on the bench in front of the store and tried to drown my frustration with some cans of Coke (not the right stuff for that). The store was located right across the post office (What I’ve noticed during the whole Tour Divide - every small jerkwater town and it didn’t matter how small it was had a post office). When I get to Cuba the local post office will possibly be closed. So, why not! I stepped in the office and the female staff gave me the biggest box she had. I was just wondering that I would be able to ship the parcel to every post office in Vegas. My understanding was that if a city or town has more than one post office there will be just one that is responsible for the general delivery stuff (…and I was right how I had to figure out later on in Vegas). Ok, she had to know it! I chose an office in walking or better in biking distance from the Strip. While she filled out the address label I went out to pack the box. I almost unpacked all my bags. In the end I had some trouble to close the box again. I put in the most of my warm clothes, my tent (stupid mistake), my bear spray and my dog dazer (stupid mistake too) and also my rain pants and shoe covers, overall more than 6lbs (2,5Kg). I got a recipe with a tracking ID.

Back on the road again J.D. Pauls caught me up and passed me by. With such stupid mistakes I was an easy pray for the pack behind me. The last turn I had to make was onto Highway 550. In Cuba I first checked in the frontier motel and did a full resupply at the gas station right across the street. The self service laundry right next to the motel took care for my stinky bike clothes. As I checked my emails I got the next shock from Matthew. The second fire reroute was closed now due to flooding and the Gila was open again. In the first moment I wasn’t aware about the consequences at all. But as I tried to untie the knot I was facing a fatal concatenation of unfortunate circumstances.

With my excursion today I lost one day definitely. With the Gila back in the game I needed one further additional day. But to tackle the Gila in two days I needed my tent what was on the way to Vegas now. Without a tent and even I would spend a night ride I was not able to finish the race in a decent time without missing my flight back to Germany. Postponing my flight was not an option at all. I twisted and turned all option forth and back but the result was always the same. I had to quit the race. So close to the finish and then an email like this. During the dinner at a Mexican restaurant around the corner I had time to think about my quit. The food was excellent, but it wouldn’t taste. As I came back Hamish McKee from New Zealand was standing in front of the motel. We talked together and as I told him about the Gila he was not very amused. But he gave me the tip to ask Matthew if the Gila is a MUST and if the fire reroute would be still an option. Apparently in my clouded mind I forgot the simplest things. Of course, why not! I sent an email to Matthew and got an answer within the next hour. The Gila wasn’t a must. Today some other riders passed the fire reroute but with a delay. I hadn’t got a clue what “with delay” meant, but I should learn it hard by myself two days later. Ok, I was back in the race and felt very much relieved.

 

Abiquiu lake

Day 21: Abiquiu

With the dawn we packed our seven things together and enjoyed an "opulent" breakfast. It couldn't have been a thrill, because I can't remember it.

Today I was a little bit concerned, because I had to ride through Vallecitos. This jerkwater town had an infamous reputation for their mangy straying dogs, like whole New Mexico too. Vallecitos is also called "The dog alley" among the TD racers. Unfortunately I am not really a friend from dogs, because I am living in the dog capital of Germany with a second place in whole Europe. But normally at home I don't have to get away from them. I sincerely hoped if there will be a confrontation that would happen only on a downhill.

Thomas left me and started where he stopped yesterday evening with pushing his bike up this unridable track. I followed 10 minutes later. Apart from some cows the whole ride until Canon Plaza was fairly lonesome and boring. The landscape lost it brilliance and turned into a dry veld. Without a decent breakfast the climbs where tough like every time with a missing hot morning meal. And - I was slowly running out of water. The 5 mile climb on highway 64 up to Hopewell Lake Picnic Area with a water pump was a disaster. Once again my legs were completely done. Alternating I pushed and rode my bike over the hot tarmac. Fortunately I could refill my empty bladders at the picnic area. There was a small shelter with a bench inside. Lunchtime! Soft and warm corn bars, an energy bar and some nuts. That was it. Mmmh, yummy! I hated it! I lay down on the bench and lifted up my legs. Just a few days and all this will be over I thought by myself and fought with the exhaustion! Finally after 45 minutes I was back on a dusty gravel road. I could not really imagine how much I missed it! Just a little comfort, but in the south riding on a gravel road wasn’t as hot as being on a highway.  

In the early afternoon Canon Plaza came in sight on a downhill. In this small town Sylvia from the Ride the Divide movie had a very small snack shop right next to the road. I didn't expect that the shop would be open, particular on Independence day. But as I got to the shop the doors were wide open but nobody in. A few seconds later Sylvia came down on a ATW to welcome me. What luck! Some unexpected Coke's! While I plundered the small selection of groceries and during my break we had a nice conversation. I heard Thomas passed the shop about one hour ago. A final photo before saying good bye was mandatory. Sylvia told me that there is only one dog in Vallecitos who sometimes makes trouble. It was just a 4 mile ride until Vallecitos. I hoped Thomas had already pumped up the dog(s) with bear spray so they didn't feel like chasing other riders again. I loosened my holster on my top tube and removed the security lock from my bear spray. Per elevation profile Vallecitos was on a downhill. Before getting into the village I had to make a 90°turn. My strategy was simple - speed. Just before the village I speeded up and turned onto the road that obviously traversed the village. It was a shame that I lost my camera in the Basin. Words can not describe what I saw. One dilapidated house after another. The stench from urine filled my nose. I would have preferred stopping and taking some photos but that was not possible, unfortunately, because I was on an escape. No dogs at all, just some barking at the beginning of the village. At the other end of this ghetto the road began to climb. I tried climbing as fast as possible to get some distance between me and the village. I made it! There were just two smaller climbs until the downhill to El Rito. The appearance from El Rito was similar to Vallecitos maybe not that rotten. A lot of abandoned houses in bad condition, but no dogs! Here I stopped for a little while to took some photos. 

The last 20 miles to Abiquiu were all downhill on a paved road. I had a good pace so the time went by very quickly. Once a car slowed down right next to me, the window lifted down and a woman asked me if this would be the right way to Abiquiu? I agreed. I had to confirm, signposting was not one of the strength of this state. 

I got to Abiquiu at 6:15 pm. As I passed the Abiquiu Inn I saw Thomas waving. He immediately sent me to Bode's general store, because it was just about to closure.

At the store I did my daily full resupply including the familiar breakfast stuff for an early start tomorrow morning. 

We have got an amazing big room with very comfy beds. It is a great pity that we had to move on so early in the morning again. But this is the law of the Divide. 

In the Mexican restaurant of the hotel we had an excellent dinner before we fell tired in our beds.    

 

Sylvias snack shop

El Rito

Day 20: In the back of beyond (NM)

Thomas left the motel 15 minutes before me. Like every morning I needed more time until all my gear was stored. It was still dark as I left the motel. I switched my flashlight on and followed the main street out of town. Unfortunately I forgot to buy new sun glasses yesterday and the gas station were we did our resupply was still closed. But a second one had open, already. I bought some simple sun glasses for just $15. Not too expensive, just in case I am gonna loose it again (…and I will).

One hour later I switched off my flashlight. The ride on the smooth ascending paved road toward Indiana Pass was the warm up for the following gravel part. Overall with 4000 feet of climbing the longest and with 12.000 feet at once the highest point during the whole Tour Divide. The uphill gradient was alternating between comfortable and uncomfortable. In the lower third of the gravel road my singlespeed friend caught me up from behind, pasted me by and was never seen again during the rest of the race. Unbelievable! How he is doing this?

It was most impressive riding in thin air on nearly 12.000 feet and be still surrounded by a deep forest. The timberline in the Alps is close to 7000 feet.

The climb wasn’t as easy as the last few passes on the past days but it was better than expected. I reached the totally unspectacular highest point of this tour for the mandatory photo. No sign that reflected the name of the pass. What a pity! At 12.000 feet in the early morning and it was not really cold at all. The first downhill was quite short. A lot of up’s and down’s on gravel roads crossed some kind of plateau. The landscape was amazing. Fir trees on fresh green shining meadows under a clear blue sky. I stopped a lot of times for some photos or simply to enjoy the view. One of the rare moments on the Divide where the alternating terrain during the last 10 miles didn’t bother me. On the main downhill I got problems to keep an eye on the very rough and bumpy road. The surrounding landscape was one reason, but the other one appeared in terms of a sudden fatigue. I was just about to fall asleep among this bone shaking downhill, no chance to keep my eyes open anymore. I was remembering the uphill to Huckleberry Pass on day 5. But this was a monotonous uphill and not a very rough downhill. Just with trouble I was able to keep me awake. Never was I so happy to reach the end of a downhill. I took a small break and on the very bumpy and rough uphill toward Platoro I felt like nothing had happened before. On the also rough downhill to Platoro everything seemed to be fine again. Very strange!

I stopped for lunch at the Skyline lodge. Thomas had finished lunch already and was just about to heading on. I ordered a burger in the restaurant and bought some water and snacks for the afternoon. As I left the lodge the sky was covered with clouds and the first rain came down. Most of the next 20 miles until Horca was downhill on gravel roads. Like every afternoon I had to take cover under a fir tree due to a heavy rain shower. I heard the thunderstorms, but today they left me alone. In Horca I hit the paved mountain pass road up to La Manga Pass. Completely out of my mind was the La Manga Challenge. This was a competition for all riders to beat the time of 37 minutes up to the pass. I also didn’t see the start line on the pavement. But in my condition with my already done legs I would need 1 hour and 37 minutes. Getting to the top was a single retching. My goal today was entering New Mexico and set up a camp at Lagunitas campground, just 15 miles behind the state line. With La Manga Pass the big major climbs were laying behind me and if everything would be fine I was able to finish in less than 25 days. But what I didn’t know at this point was the fact that New Mexico turned out to be a disaster for me.

And with leaving the paved road the disaster had announced its arrival.

Like someone pushed a button the gravel road was some of the worst during the last 3 weeks. Even the smother uphills until the state line were hardly ridable. Not even a nice good bye for an otherwise nice state like Colorado but a gusty welcome to New Mexico. For the 15 miles to the campground I estimated about 2 hours. But in the end I will need almost the double time. The landscape was getting more and more boring the track more and more worse. Steep, unridable sections alternating with bumpy and tricky downhills on gusty double track roads. With every mile I went on the angrier I got. Getting to the campground before darkness looked like a distant goal. As I pushed up my bike a further non ridable section I first didn’t noticed in all my ranting and raving the tent next to the track. The bike looked familiar to me. It was Thomas and he was still awake. Similar like me he was fed up about this absolutely crapped track. Because it was almost dark I used the rest of light to build up my tent next to Thomas tarp. Dinner was a Coke and half of some big pastry what I’ve bought in the Skyline lodge from that I didn’t know what it was, actually. Just with an also limited breakfast tomorrow and a “maybe” resupply possibility in Canon Plaza best preconditions for a real mother of day. I took New Mexico in my heart, already now.

Day 19: Del Norte

A new day without breakfast and no resupply possibilities until Del Norte again, except a small grocery store with limited selection in La Garita not far from Del Norte. Two smaller mountain passes with Cochetopa and Canero Pass were waiting for me. To get out of this afternoon thunderstorm story while climbing higher mountain passes I would definitely stay in Del Norte this night and tackling Indiana Pass, the roof top of the Tour Divide, in the early morning.

James seemed to be well rested. I was not. From my stock I stuffed all these food into me what could substitute an average breakfast.

On a paved road I quickly made it after 15 miles to Doyleville. Mentally it was an essential aspect to me how fast I accomplished the first miles in the morning and in which time. Now the Mexican border moved more and more into sight and seemingly I am really able to make it to Antelope Wells.

There were two major fire reroutes in New Mexico. The first one would save a lot of climbing on the way to Cuba and the second one passes by the whole Gila (175 miles of nothing) on an easier road, how I thought at least. I was right off behind my time schedule for finishing within 25 days, but why spending a second night ride shouldn’t work again? The two ascents for today were long but very flat. The Americans have enough space to built long flat roads, thankfully! In the Alps they would carve countless switchbacks into the rock. 

On the way to Cochetopa Pass I came across another guy with a full loaded bike who was riding the Colorado Trail. Because it was also an option for me in future days I asked him a lot of questions.

Chochetopa Pass was climbing over a lot of miles with a fairly smooth uphill grade. What a mercy! Canero Pass was just like the same so my suffering was limited today. After so many days on a bike I made a sufficient pace and as many dry and hot days before I was longing for a cold Coke! 

As I reached the junction to La Garita it was not a question if I would get a Coke the question was when? I rushed into the small store without looking right or left straight to the fridge with the precious cold cans. I took 3 cans out and on the other fridge an ice cream. Apparently the owners were a very reproductive family, because countless kids in all age groups were running across the shop. I took a short break in front of the store. In the distance I already saw the approaching thunderstorms. Again the landscape was on a change. Huge rock formations replaced the hilly solitude. As I turned from the wider gravel road onto a smaller jeep track I was just about to grumble for that apparently worse stony ground and was expecting a further delay reaching Del Norte. But this track turned out to be a real gem. Like a pump track with incredible flow I rushed toward Del Norte. What a find! The Divide surprises in whichever direction every day. As I reached after a steeper climb the windy gap with the view to Del Norte I realized again that the fun had cost me my second sun glasses. What a bummer, fun and hassle so close together. The downhill at a sandy ground against the wind was no fun instead. As I hit the first sandy spot I was just about to fall onto my face, because my front tire simply slipped away in this deep sandy section. In the very last moment I was able to keep myself in the saddle. And before I could take the direct way toward Del Norte I had first cast a view at the very important local airport from three sides.

I checked my SMS and Thomas was in town too and had as always checked in at a motel. It was not easy to get a room in town, because there was a fire fighter meeting.

The room we got was the worst on the whole tour, not to mention the bathroom. I would compare it to a fleabag. At 8:00 pm the sidewalks had been rolled up. We asked for dinner at 8:05 pm in a restaurant with the answer: “No, dinner is just served until 8:00 pm”. ??? Finally we met Paul, Mason and Ed who were looking for a room too. These three guys (beside Thomas) were one of the most faithful riders along the whole route to me. Since day two I met at least one of them either during the day, in the morning or in a town in the evening.

Thomas and I took a seat at Subways and ordered a foot long sandwich each. Subway was part of a gas station so we did our complete resupply for the next day including some food for breakfast what looked every day like the same for me, Kelloggs Frosties in a plastic cup, milk or Nesquick chocolate, sandwiches, yoghurt (if available), cold coffee from Starbucks in a glass bottle. And for the day: chocolate bars like Kit-Kat or Snickers for the first hour (otherwise it was melting away), Oreo cookies, Power Bar energy bars (if available), nuts in all different styles, trail mixes, bananas, sandwiches and sometimes corn bars. To drink: Water and Gatorade (I liked the white one the most) in the mix. Except for the sandwiches, a miserable sweet mélange that I was really fed up with, literally.