We start the Great Divide, northbound! First 7 day report

Pardon the typos, I’m writing this while on tour!

Quick flashback to 2022: Uri, Casey, and I dip our wheels in the Pacific Ocean in California and start heading East to the Atlantic. We biked the Southern Tier route in ~53 days (Uri joined us for the first week). Now, 4 years later and with more experience, we return to bike the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route!

The three of us met at the El Paso airport at 11 AM, dragging our bulky bike boxes outside where a Warmshowers host picked us up. FYI, Warmshowers is an app for cyclists to be hosted by other cyclist-supporting community members, which can sometimes generate some odd stares when you tell someone you met them from “warm showers”.

Rob Shaver (and his wife Kristin) is a local to El Paso and gave us one of the best hosting treatments we could have asked for. With cold beverages in our hands and bellies full of fresh vegetables and sandwiches, we spent the 97F afternoon carefully putting our bikes back together, assessing all the gear that was across many different little bags to make sure TSA didn’t have sticky fingers. Casey’s brand new bike was experiencing some derailleur issues, so Rob drove her to a bike shop to get it worked out, with success.

And I’m positively blown away by the generosity of this family, including their two college boys. Without knowing us much at all, they have fed us, provided us all the biking supplies that we needed, gave us beds/showers, and we had a lovely group dinner and conversation.

We shared the space with two other cyclists from Canada who spend almost all of their time touring and doing gear reviews— Ali and Matt. It was delightful getting to know them and hearing their stories about bike touring down the eastern divide and across Canada. Unfortunately, we won’t get to bike with them since their bikes are held up in Canada, and they’re waiting for them to arrive. But we’ve been keeping in touch along our route, and hopefully we will see them again in the future!

Day 1: Antelope Wells to Hachita

48 miles, 587 ft of gain

We spent the early morning having our breakfasts and chatting with our Warmshowers hosts while waiting for our shuttle guy to take us to Antelope Wells, NM. This guy, Jeffery Sharp, is well known for helping folks out, and he has a Bike Ranch in Hachita where people often spend the night when traveling through. Within minutes, I knew that Jeff was going to be one of the best characters from this tour. He pulled up in an old Cherokee with a beaten up trailer and no headlights, sun tanned and full of smile lines. He loaded our three bikes, and we headed out of El Paso, where he gave us “the scenic route” to explain the superfund sites, old steam engines, and border walls.

And Jeff had so many stories about the people he has met from all over the world who have come hiking and cycling the continental divide, including famous athletic professionals and people who had no idea what they were doing. Jeff was also a bit of a troublemaker, which made for fun conversations over the three hour ride. For example, we passed some border patrol officers who were looking for footprints in the sand near the border wall, and Jeff admitted that he sometimes stops his truck for fun and runs barefoot around the area just to mess with them.

We detoured to pick up another guy, Pat, at the train station who is a bikepacker from Washington in his mid-30s. He designs bikepacking bags for his company, Sabo, and his bike looked far superior and elegant compared to ours. We didn’t know it then, but Pat was going to be a great riding partner for the whole first week (and maybe longer). So, the four of us settled in for the long ride, lengthened from Jeff’s pit stops to two different gas stations and a stop to see the mail lady in Hachita.

The sun was cresting higher in the sky, and we started to get a little stressed— it was heating up rapidly. As we drove the length of our bike ride from Hachita to the border, we saw an endless open, flat landscape, covered in short little bushes and cholla cacti. There was absolutely zero shade, and periodically dirt tornadoes would swirl on the cracked earth. It was the type of horizon that wobbled in the heat and beating sun.

So, Jeff dropped us at 11 AM, and he took endless pictures of us, paparazzi style. We tapped our wheels on the metal border fence, and kicked off— 45 miles to bike back to Hachita.

The first 30 miles were ok. I maintained the heat fine, though the last 15 started to spiral. I felt weak, and my vision went splotchy black. Pat and I started to get chills at one point. Every now and then, we paused for water and snacks, but we were dying to finish and get out of the 105 F heat.

And hallelujah we got to Hachita! The water tank was beyond welcoming, as was the two pump gas station and store with cold drinks. We spent the night at Jeff’s ranch which was absolutely superb. Along with the free entertainment from his wild life stories and interactions, we cooked up dinner, rinsed off in his outdoor DIY shower, and was spoiled with some precious AC.

Day 2: Hachita to White Signal

62 miles; 2,923 ft of gain

Our goal was to leave around 6 AM from Jeff’s to get an earlier morning start to avoid the heat. We had a quick breakfast, which we shared the space with two bat ecologists. Jeff gifted Uri a book (to be mailed later) and gave us turquoise stones that he collected himself, for good luck!

The morning ride out had cooler temperatures with warm light shining through flowers and cacti. We felt speedy for the first 20 miles on road as we headed north, feeling fresh and recovered from yesterday’s heat. Few cars passed as we cruised past fields of dispersed cows, and then we deviated onto our first section of fast gravel riding.

For an early lunch, we had a pit stop at the Bowlins historical trading post, which was stocked with Native American trinkets, snacks, and cold drinks. We were already in a situation where our stops were centered heavily on where we could acquire water— something I rarely spend time thinking about.

The heat intensified as we rode sandy, washboard roads for a few miles. It was incredible how the landscape reached forever— a landscape that I had little to no experience being in. The vegetation varied from yucca to prickly pear and cholla, among many others I haven’t seen before.

Around 1 PM it became unbearable. To escape the heat and beating sun, we tied a tarp to a solitary sign post and our bikes, the four of us hunkering down to snack and nap. It looked silly on the vast orange landscape, this little blue tent tarp sheltering 4 grown adults in the middle of nowhere.

I really struggled with the remainder of the day. The heat was too much, and I began to run low on water. I started to psyche myself up, and my chest tightened with anxiety. Shortly after, I had a fall, biking downhill on a turn and hitting thick, loose sand. I scuffed up my knees, but all turned out OK. We sat in the shade for a bit to rebound and then continued on for a couple more miles.

Our goal was to get to an RV park or a fire station in White Signal, but we encountered a community center first on route. Even though the building was closed, it was a perfect area to pitch our tents outside.

Day 3 White signal to Lake Roberts

49 miles; 4,416 ft of gain

Our goal for the morning was to get to Silver City for breakfast and chores, so we packed up and were out by 6 AM to meet cafe opening hours. It was all road riding there, with rolling hills and some headwinds that were reminiscent of the last time we cycled through Silver City in 2022.

Our first stop was Tranquilbuzz, a wooden fantasy cafe with eclectic decor, musical instruments, and water features with fish. Casey and I were here on our last tour, and we loved it so much that we wanted to return. Here, we charged our devices and pleasantly grazed fresh food— a bike tour luxury! I then popped by the bike shop to inquire about my skipping chain, only to find out that my local bike shop had installed the wrong derailleur, which was an easy fix. A final stop at the nearby food co-op for lunch and bike snacks and we were on the road again around noon.

The Gila National Forest was the next stop, and it was stunning. We pushed through a hot city climb and transited into a pine tree wonderland. It was warming up, but we had tree cover and steep and winding roads through the forest. The hills were tough, but the downhills were giggle-inducing with periodic sweeping visitas.

The bad: I’ve started developing a mild knee tweak from the intense climbing, paired with my fall on the sand the day before. It’s been something I’ve been watching closely as subtle signs of distress can lead to the end of a tour. Also, Uri, Pat, and I have been having bloody noses, likely from the dry heat and dust. Casey has starting coughing pretty badly as well.

We ended the day at Mesa Campground at Lake Robert’s. We had just missed the camp store closing time, but on the side of the building was a hose that we all used to fill up our bottles— you get very attuned to looking for spigots. Finally, we pushed uphill to keep going to the lake, with dreams of swimming and finally getting clean after 3 days.

The campground wasn’t very busy, and we chose a lovely shaded picnic spot near the bathrooms and set up camp, only to find out that it was a reserved spot. My history with these situations is that we get kicked out just before sunset, but the older man who reserved the spot, Alfred, let us stay! Which was saintly of him considering all of our things were splayed across the picnic table, and our clothes were strung across the campsite drying—all our clothes were turning pretty salty and oily by this point, so Casey and I washed them in the bathroom sink.

The next leg of the tour was one we were concerned about. We all took inventory of our food for the next 2 days until Pie Town— a 156 mile stretch with no official food or water services. Our food quantities were tight, but we were pretty sure we could make it. A new tactic that we were going to try was to ride when it was darker and cooler so we wouldn’t burn through our water as fast. We will see how it goes!

Day 4 Mesa campground to Geronimo ranch

47 miles; 4934 ft of gain

It was a Milky Way morning wake up at 3 AM, and it was also freezing (yet invigorating) as we packed up the bikes. As the soft dawn light crested the horizon, we biked past many elk leaping alongside us in the adjacent fields— a moment that was one of our favorites of the whole day.

Our uphill climbing commenced early and didn’t stop, making today one of the most physically taxing days so far. Our ascents and descents were mostly on gravel, of mixed varieties, jostling us and our gear endlessly. Consequently, Uri broke his water bottle cage, and his front wheel has become periodically wobbly.

My 7-8 L of water rationed for two days was horribly stressful considering I couldn’t stop drinking during all of the intense uphills. I began to feel anxious about running out so early in this 156 mile stretch, with our goal today being to hit 75 miles. We had only biked 20 or so, and I had already consumed 2 L.

Fortunately, we stopped at Black Canyon Campground and found a very tiny running stream. It had thick orange scum on the side of the bank, but it was actively flowing, compared to the stagnant green beaver dam pool water up river. It was good enough for us! Thanks, Pat, for lending us your water filter!

Also, we were awful about stopping before the sweltering afternoon sun. Our pipe dream was to bike and then take a 1-4:30 PM siesta to wait out the heat… but we always were too ambitious. The result was feeling really ill and sick, and, largely, regretful. The ride was beginning to feel like suffering at this point. So, on the last hill of the day, we abandoned the climb midway to rest in the trees. With our bikes laying on the side of the road, a Forest ranger drove by and stopped to offer us water!

After it cooled down more, we finished the final uphill push to the Geronimo ranch where coolers of water, Gatorade, and Cliff bars awaited. The kindness of strangers continues! Even though there were no formal water services to rely on, we had 3 opportunities to acquire more water today.

We lounged on the benches provided by the ranch for a while and then transitioned to public land nearby on that same road. It was a nice wooded area, though most of the trees were burned and scorched black from a previous fire—which made us nervous. Specifically because a forest fire had been blazing 6,000+ acres just north of us. The smoke had begun to waft in our direction, and we didn’t have cell service to check on the status of it. We went to bed with these concerns.

Day 5: Geronimo Ranch area-ish to BLM land

68 miles; 3389 ft of gain

Our 3 AM alarm went off but we didn’t hear it— a first time for me. Pat whistled from his tent to wake us up. And it was freezing! I was very grateful to have a 15 F sleeping bag, even though many online said to have a 25. We bundled in sweaters and loaded our bikes, pausing when a pack of coyotes howled and yipped at a prey nearby.

Our 4:30 AM start and immediate 1000 ft of climbing warmed us quickly, and it was also very delightful. Again, we biked with the sunrise, and we had more cresting vistas as we worked our way uphill to the Beaver work station. Here was our first opportunity to refill some water after the hill, another spot on a section that boasted to have “no services”, to our pleasant surprise. We briefly met a guy yo-yo-ing (biking north to south and then turning around to bike from south to north) and exchanged news from the road, mainly water source locations.

Then, we biked up the mesa which was a stunning plateau, providing more sweeping landscapes with huge chunky red rocks that reminded me of buttes. Giant white flowers were peppering the horizon, and cows lazily meandered back and forth across the road.

We ran into Matt again (first time at the bike shop in Silver City), who had just finished taking a nap under a tree on the side of the road. He's a fifth-grade teacher who prefers to bike at night to avoid the heat. Despite that, he hitched to our group for the rest of the day, our team ever-growing like Forest Gump’s crew running across the country.

The afternoon was brutally hot, again, and smoke from the nearby fire hung in the air. We made it to a Baptist church that had a hose we could use, which sounded great—except the water came out scalding hot! Apparently, it had already made a cyclist sick earlier in the day.

My knee has been acting up and giving me some trouble, and I'm hoping it isn't the start of a long-term issue. I’ve messed with my bike seat, with some success so far. Fingers crossed— training probably would have helped.

We then spent about five hours hanging out under the church’s shaded awning next door, resting, eating, lounging, chatting, and trying to get internet service. In the middle of it all, I got offered a job! Woop woop!

After 6 PM, when the temperatures finally started to ease, we headed a little farther down the road to a patch of BLM land tucked among some trees. It turned into a lovely evening. The ground was soft and lumpy with moss, we gave ourselves water-bottle showers, and cleaned the dust off our bike chains. Everything (our bikes, gear, lungs, and bodies) was coated in dust. Finally, the constant chorus of cicadas filled the air as we settled in for the night.

Day 6: BLM land to Pie town

37 miles; 2867 ft of gain

The 3 AM wake-ups are getting really difficult, but once we started riding at 4:30, it felt natural and exciting to be out on the road at night with a squad of friends. Our little bike gang has grown to five people, making for great camaraderie. We heard another pack of coyotes in the distance before starting the day's climb with more hills for breakfast.

Slowly cranking upward, we spotted firefighters camped throughout the forest, and eventually came upon a massive base camp filled with tents, trucks, and food where crews were on standby. Cars and trucks passed us throughout the morning, kicking up thick clouds of dust that lingered in the air and made it hard to see at times. This was my first time seeing the behind the scenes of firefighting, and I was grateful to have these folks so close to us as we passed through and continued north past the fire. It was good timing: a day later the road shut down.

We were so close to Pie Town that we didn't want to stop for food along the way. Hunger made everyone cranky and impatient as we pushed toward a real meal! Even though the rolling dirt hills were beautiful, we were completely focused on finishing the ride.

Since we arrived around 9:30 AM, this was going to be our "rest day." When we reached Pie Town, we stopped at the first shop we saw, The Gathering Place II, and immediately met the owner, Paul. There, the five of us joined Kiara from Australia and Harry from England for breakfast, and it was incredible. I ordered pulled pork over fries with coffee, then went back later for lunch to have a Grand Slam hamburger and, of course, pie.

The Gathering Place was such a heartwarming spot, positively built to bring folks together for a while. There was a giant covered outdoor seating area with hay bale seats covered in blankets, featuring a New Mexico sunset mural. It was cozy and inviting, and the staff loved to chat you up and hear about your travels. Plus, we got to learn more about Pie Town from them as well!

So, for the rest of the day, we completely vegetated.

We stayed at the Toaster House, an eclectic hiker and biker hostel with old toasters lining the entrance archway and shelves full of food and clothing left behind by travelers. It had a shower, rooms with multiple beds, and a porch wall covered with old tennis shoes. It met all of our needs, though it required heavy TLC since the caretaker passed away— the whole place smelled of mice, and it was very dirty. Sleeping on the floor on my sleeping pad made me itchy, and I couldn’t stop thinking about asbestos and Hanta virus. Fortunately, we also did much-needed laundry at the Bunkhouse, an alternative place to stay that was a bit cleaner and more organized.

That evening, we returned to the Gathering Place and spent hours on the patio chatting with Paul and catching up on internet tasks. Before we left, he surprised us with a large container of homemade macaroni and cheese to take on the road!

Day 7 Pie Town to Grants

70 miles; 1660 ft of gain

One week on the road!

For breakfast, we ate mac & cheese leftovers that Paul gave us from the restaurant as well as some canned goods that were in the Toaster House. Our group disbanded pretty quickly first thing. Pat informed us that his cat had died last night and he wanted to spend the day riding alone. We started biking with Matt, but he was faster and didn’t pause for any morning stops. Not long after, Casey wanted to do some solo riding through El Malpais National Conservation Area.

So, it was mostly just Uri and I, though we leapfrogged Kiara and Harry a few times. And the conservation area was a lovely morning ride, especially heading northbound. We had a net descent for quite a dozen miles, cycling past cow fields and flat empty yellow land. The morning was ideal for this due to the lack of trees. As the sun rose and the heat picked up around 8 AM, we turned onto pavement until Grants.

Today’s ailments: Uri’s knee injury began to reappear from his bike crash a month ago. He is monitoring it but may take a shuttle ahead to rest for a few extra days. Casey’s bike saddle is also causing her discomfort, though modifying her hip belt placement seemed to help.

We enjoyed a speedy descent into Grants on pavement, passing through dramatic rock formations that looked straight out of Utah. The ride was fast, though we powered through a stiff headwind for much of it.

Once in town, we found our Warmshowers place, the Lava Hostel, a self proclaimed queer hiker and biker hostel made up of several small buildings with a communal kitchen and plenty of showers. One by one, all of our friends arrived as well, including Matt, Kiara, and Harry, making it feel like a little reunion. It’s so nice to have a little bubble of friends!

After stocking up on snacks at the local Smiths grocery store, we cooked dinner together (Uri and Casey made taco salad) and spent hours hanging out while thunderstorms rolled through outside. I’m so grateful for the timing— it felt very lucky to have a roof over our heads on the one day there was heavy rain.