So here we were Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum about to embark on the next leg of our journey. Sometimes Alison was Dee, sometimes I was, then at other times we were both Dum(b). Having waited a couple of days at St Francis' Home for the weary traveller, the snow had subsided and we were no longer weary. With fresh legs we left the bike friendly town of Silver City and headed toward the Gila hot springs and cliff dwellings. The road was narrow but the traffic was almost non existent. The fresh snow was slowly melting amongst the pine trees. It was almost poetic except for the climb. Pinos Altos was the first destination. My Spanish is fairly poor but I know that to a cyclist any town with Altos in it means there will be an ascent. Over the course of the day we sweated our way through many swithcbacks up and down to 7,000 feet at least threet times. Our fresh legs had officially turned to jelly. Thankfully the final section was all descent as we rolled in to the Gila wilderness. Our muscles were allowed to finally relax in one of three hot springs. Nestled in the wilderness and relaxing in the warm water one could forget their worries. In an adjacent hot spring it seemed that a couples worries obviously involved clothing. I was a little cautious in losing my clothing layers as I had read that an amoeba called Naegleria fowleri could enter through the nasal passage and cause meningitis. Icould only imagine what it may do if I was not wearing pants.
Overnight we froze. The temperature got to 9F! I think our campfire kept us from officially freezing. Before a short ride to the Gila cliff dwelling we thawed out in the hot springs. The cliff dwellings and hot spirngs were great. It even made the extra 70 or so miles of this detour worth it. Before sunset we decided to ride out of the Gila wilderness area to a small town of Lake Roberts. Unfortunately the inverse of Newton's Law applies to cycling, that is what goes down must come up. The climb out was steep and the only reward would be a night in a hotel. We did not want to freeze again, particularly before our highest climb waited ahead of us.
We rested this time we began our ride toward Emory Pass. The Lake Roberts area afforded us some great riding. Again narrow roads but minimal traffic. We even got to cruise down hill for quite a while after we crossed the Continental Divide again, for the third and final time. The last few days through the wilderness had prepared us for the climb mentally. We broke the it down into sections and rested relatively frequently. Parts of this road had been an old railroad track so the gradient was not too difficult. We were eventually quite suprised to find ourselves at 8,228 feet at the top of the pass. A great sense of achievemnt had washed over us. This would be the highest point of the Southern Tier for us both, so we bathed in our excitement. Coming down on the East side was steep and winding but at least we didn't have to pedal. Alison heard a bang in her back tyre. We were still too far from El Paso for it to be a border patrol sniper and too far from Ciudad Juarez (Mexico) for it to be ablast from a drug smuggler. With no obvious problem we continued rolling down the hill. At the base we were rewarded with the best milkshake I have ever tasted in Hillsboro. It were as if a cow's udder had been removed, frozen over night, blended for us, malt added and served in a glass for our enjoyment.
We continued to roll onwards stopping for the evening in a small highway town (by highway town I mean right next to a highway) called Arrey. The cause of Alison's 'bang' became evident that afternoon. The rear light had displaced and managed to break a spoke. The result was a very wobbly wheel. At this stage still 50-60miles away from a bike shope we were a bit concerned. This is one of those moments that other peoples support and offerings of help becomes vital. The RV park that we were tenting at was prepared to drive us in to Las Cruces to have it fixed. At this time I must also correct Alison's previous blog. Our first act of generosity has been Alan of Moe's Bike Shop in North Bend, Oregon. Alan had done so much for us in preparation for this trip. He was our first point of call and once again he was able to walk us through this problem and settle our nerves. Loosening a few spokes opposite the broken one we were able to continue the following day in to Las Cruces. Special thanks must also go to the gentle gradient and tail wind that enabled us to navigate this section quicker than expected.
Tail to continue shortly....
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