Grants - and welcome to New Mexico

Hello from Grants, New Mexico. This is in fact the third Grants we have passed through or by on this entire trip and I note we have not been through or near a single Trystan, Ben, Simon, or Ryan. Is this something to boast about? Probably not. The first in Montana was a dot in the map that we skirted around the side, and the second in Yellowstone was the biggest campground I have ever seen. This, the third Grants, population 11 thousand or so, is a boom/ bust mining and now services town, its survival appearing to be due to its location on the infamous Route 66. Aside from hotels, workshops, and food joints, sprawled along and around the highways which dominate, there does not seem to be a whole lot going on here.

Since our vacation from our vacation, one of the themes has been the high passes. Finally getting Marshall Pass out of the way (no pass has ever been so needlessly revered for so long), all the while the biggest of them all, Indiana, lurked in the background. As it turned out, Indiana was typical of the Colorado climbs, being of a steady gradient on good gravel roads, only a bit longer and loftier than the rest. However, it is the un-named passes that can often prove to be the nastiest of surprises - in this case the climb up to "Junction of FR27 and FR144" was the biggest, baddest, and yet coolest climb of the trip. Taking us from the Old-Mexico town of Abiquiu, set in red rock country, all the way up into the sub-alpine forests, some of the greenest of the entire journey, along roads which varied from gravel, to loose rock, to slickrock. This climb had it all, except for an abundance of water.

Shortly before entering New Mexico we were lucky enough (according to the guide book) to watch the black smoke belching tourist steam train of the Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad come right past, complete with eardrum piercing whistle, as made its way back and forth between the states of Colorado and New Mexico. The penny-on-the-track trick was a necessity, though Trystan, in a display of wealth, put up an entire quarter.

The two-stage welcome to New Mexico: Entering New Mexico in the same way as we have entered most of the other states, i.e. on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, just looking at the scenery you would have thought you were still in Colorado. That is, except for the roads. Where washboarded gravel roads was the worst it generally got in Colorado, we were almost immediately met with ruts big enough to almost swallow bikes whole. We could only be thankfull we met these roads in the dry. The so absolutely poor condition of these roads actually made them a lot of fun to ride - except for the 1/2 mile pusher up a super steep loose rock section that was cruelly noted on the route discription as being a mile before it actually was.

Welcome to New Mexico stage-two came the next day, as we made a sweet decent down into the small village of El Rito. All of a sudden we were presented with barren red-rock country which to my geologically lay-mans eyes looked quite reminiscent of what we had seen on our Utah vacation from the vacation. Arriving in El Rito left no doubt. This quant little old-Mexico village was the real deal, complete with a tiny Mexican shack-like restaurant which ensured we were more than adequately fueled push on into the sunset.

This evening was also to be the first team sport-sleeping event. This came two nights after Ben, Simon, and Bougie had successfully sport-slept beside a park bench just metres away from the Platoro restaurant (about 40 paces in total required between the interval of dinner and breakfast for those three). On this evening, with the small town of Abiquiu still nearly 20 miles ahead, we took aim for the El Rito River which we would cross just a few miles shy of Abiquiu. Sadly the El Rito river turned out to be an unattractive silty torrent, though the lone beaver did not appear to mind. Our hopes for a good wash-up dashed, we set on into the fading light, finding an inviting lush paddock located just off the highway and conveniently behind a half open gate. Unfortunately this perfect spot was also perfect for the mosquitos, so back on the road we went, headed for the unknown of Abiquiu. In the now darkness, we blazed by Abiquiu (what sort of town does not have a main-drag?) and soon spotted a well-lit facility just off the highway. A quick recon by Bougie - we had found an elementary school - this third spot was to be just right! Lifting our bikes over the locked gates, we headed straight for the well-equiped playground. Simon was king of the castle (or maybe the night-watchman?), Bougie took the role of the park bench bum, and the rest of us spread ourselves around in similar fashion. Were the kids back in school yet? Thankfully no, so an uneventful exit was made (aside from our first encounters with the tyre loving, to be the bane of our existance in New Mexico, goat-heads, causing two punctures before we had even had breakfast).

Other features on New Mexico include a constant lack of water. Though perhaps I shouldn't complain about the dry too much - so far we have avoided the monsoon season - but looking at the forecast that looks about to change. The best and most reliable water sources appear to be well stocked caravan and RV types who we inevitably meet along the way.

Water was the reason for meeting Shaun, yet another fine person we have met along the way and vying for the number 1 spot of greatest and most helpful person we have met. The timing was perfect, it was getting late in the day and we still had ten or so miles to get to our intended camp site and water source - the Rio San Antonio River (which as it turned out was a filter-killing silty and uninviting stream, typical of what we are finding in NM). Ben and Simon up ahead, they stopped to talk to Shaun, who was sitting outside his caravan cooking dinner. Shaun was well supplied with water, so a restock was made. However this was only the start of this mans generocity. He then said "boys, I've got dinner for you too", or something to that effect, and brings back from his caravan a stack of military ration MRE meals. As we had planned yet another tuna/ pasta combo, this was more than well received. If that wasn't enough, as we waited for the MRE meals to cook, he hands us a gourmet sausage and tortilla off his bbq grill each. Then a gatorade followed by a couple of bags of popcorn. He must have known we were coming! After profuse thanks for his never-ending generocity, we were off on our way, and with no need to make it to a water source we were free to camp wherever we pleased - and a fine choice it was too - which also began an unbroken run of tentless nights.

The dominant wildlife of New Mexico is the snappy dog. Brown, white, big or small, these things sport of choice is snapping at the heels of the passer-by cyclist. While Ben and Simon have ditched their bear-spray as a means of weight reduction, mine remains intact and strapped to my bike frame, but for how much longer? The temptation is there...

Right now we really are into the business end of the trip, with just under 400 miles left to ride. As all of us have flights out of Phoenix Arizona (a 300 or so mile bus or shuttle ride away) on the 22nd, we have until the 20th to make it to Antelope Wells. Not a whole lot of time, but but not overly tight yet either. Our next stretch takes us to Silver City, over 200 miles away from Grants, with only the aptly-named Pie Town in between. Pie Town has a cafe which sells, you guessed it - pies (which will be breakfast on Saturday morning), but apart from that there is little else along this section. Plenty of planning is required for a stretch like this... it is a long way to go hungry!