2010

The GPS track from today’s ride is highly errorred. Basic stats: 108 miles, about 9:40 rolling time. That’s not the greatest distance I’ve ever ridden in one day, but it’s definitely the most ride time I’ve ever had in one day.

I’ve been riding pretty strongly the past few days, and I think I may have gotten a little overconfident. Plus there’s a whole lot of nothing for a long way from Sierra Blanca on, and my current location is really the shortest ride I was willing to contemplate. And finally, now that I’m back in Texas, I really want to get back to Austin. It’s irrational: I know I have almost as much distance between El Paso and Austin as I did between San Diego and El Paso. But being in the state has lit a fire under me to make as much daily headway as possible.

So I wound up overextending myself today somewhat. I knew as early as 3:00 pm that I was racing the sunset and might not win. I did, but only just. I hadn’t taken into account the headwinds, the fact that I’d be climbing out of the Rio Grande valley even before I got to all the steep climbing in the Davis Mountains, or the generally rough roads, which really slow me down and are fatiguing.

I am staying at a Warm Showers host, John and his family, who live on the premises of the McDonald Observatory. John works on the telescopes. Pretty cool. He also did some cross-country riding when be was younger. Gwen and I were lucky enough to catch one of the star parties out here some years ago, and John has offered to show me the 107″ telescope.

It’s a funny thing: everywhere I’ve gone on this rode so far, I’ve either been able to get cellular data or wifi at the end of every day. So while I’ve been homesick, I’ve still had that thread of connection, getting emails and comments from friends, calling Gwen when possible, and so on. The first transam bike route was plotted and ridden back in 1976, when it would have been vastly harder to stay in touch with the folks back home. I wonder if modern communications tools alleviate the homesickness or increase it, by splitting one’s state of mind.

Started: Oct 1, 2010 7:28:07
Ride Time: 8:01:26
Stopped Time: 1:58:29
Distance: 100.54 miles
Average: 12.53 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 34.42 miles/h
Climb: 6448 feet
Calories: 4993

A long day, and still somehow not far enough. I really wanted to push on to Van Horn, but would have needed about one more hour to do so safely. Decided not to risk it—I’d also be risking every restaurant there being closed by the time I got checked into a hotel, which might be even worse.

Anyone who has driven through this country knows why I’m in such a hurry to get through it: ain’t nothin’ here. While it would be nice to be able to be in the moment and enjoy every day on its own merits on this trip, I’m not half so Pollyanna-ish as to pretend that’s realistic. There are some days that really are about being in the moment. And there are some I just need to get through. This is one of the latter.

Gwen had predicted that it would take a long time to get through El Paso, and she was right. It was also very unpleasant. The contrast between New Mexico drivers and Texas drivers is stark. By the time I got to Fabens, traffic had lightened up, and riding wasn’t bad. A headwind prevented me from going as fast as I’d hoped, but I made pretty good progress riding on SH 20. Around McNary, my map diverted me onto a rough farm road as a detour to keep me off I-10. It was also around there that I met another Southern Tier rider, Tom. Tom’s got a few years on me. His wife is sagging for him with an RV they bought specifically for this ride. He’s logging about 60 miles a day on a hybrid bike, taking weekends off, and apparently having a good time. The hotel keeper in Superior CA mentioned this couple to me, so it’s fun to meet other people on the route that I’ve heard about.

Anyhow, that circuitous detour probably added about 30 minutes to my ride today. Later, the route did put me on I-10 for lack of any alternative, but only for a couple miles—back onto a feeder road with an especially coarse new layer of chipseal. Ugh. I think I have ridden over every mile of shovel-ready stimulus projects on this ride. Should have just stayed on I-10.

I continued to make pretty good time, despite the surface and despite gaining about 1000′ over the last 10 miles. But it was about 5:30 when I got in here, and even if I were flying at 17 mph, Van Horn would be another two hours. It’s funny how I’ve always viewed Van Horn as a nasty, dusty wide spot in the road when driving, but when cycling, it’s an oasis of civilization. The next town after it of any account that I’ll reach is Fort Davis—111 miles from here, and over the Davis Mountains.

Started: Sep 30, 2010 7:39:11
Ride Time: 5:44:22
Stopped Time: 1:51:16
Distance: 79.54 miles
Average: 13.86 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 472.67 miles/h
Climb: 24219 feet
Calories: 4831

Not a lot to report today. I slept little last night, with the sounds of yapping dogs and traffic, and concern over my sketchy camping arrangement keeping me up. When it started getting light, I admitted defeat and started to break camp. Got rolling early. In my haste to exit Hatch, I forgot to put sunblock on, only remembering after I had been rolling for 40 minutes. The exposure shows on me.

Passed through a lot of fields growing cotton and peppers, as well as some enormous pecan orchards. An orchard would be divided into sections by berms, and some of the sections would be flooded a few inches deep. One of these orchards extended for a couple miles.

Passed through Las Cruces and its cute little sister Mesilla, where I stopped for a late breakfast.

Gwen had arranged for me to stop at the home of old family friends, Jim and Marylou, in El Paso. I had to fight headwinds all the way from Mesilla on, but made good time getting to El Paso. Then I had to ride through El Paso—from what I’ve seen of it, it is a uniquely ugly city. Anyhow, I am at Jim and Marylou’s now, and they’re providing another one of those very valuable home stops where I can do laundry, be around people, and generally feel a little more human.

The route I’m riding, the Southen Tier, is broken into 7 sections. Each section is printed on one foldout sheet, subdivided into about 15 highly detailed maps, each of which covers about 30 miles, showing what services are available in each town as well as detailed route directions. El Paso is the dividing point between sections 2 and 3. It’ll take me 3 sections just to cross Texas. I’ve got the hardest climbing behind me, although there are still some considerable ascents in West Texas. That’s one thing about riding this route west-to-east: the difficulty is all front-loaded.

Started: Sep 29, 2010 7:28:30
Ride Time: 8:24:54
Stopped Time: 2:15:29
Distance: 106.94 miles
Average: 12.71 miles/h
Fastest Speed: 149.86 miles/h
Climb: 6303 feet
Calories: 4602

Today is the day I made gravity my bitch and crossed Emory Pass. The climbing was about as challenging as the climb from Three Way to the New Mexico state line, but it had better scenery and I was better prepared mentally.

Much of the climb was inside the Gila National Forest, which is beautiful. At one point I was on a horseshoe bend, with a cliff face on one side of me, a declivity, creek, and another cliff face on the other. The road seemed to disappear, obscured by the rock faces. Trees and cacti were growing right out of the rocks. Minutes would pass without a car driving by, and as I glided slowly along, I felt like I had the place to myself, and that I was seeing it from a perspective few others have. I almost wept.

I realized that while the climbing so far was tough, it wasn’t as tough as I knew it was going to get, and wondered when that would change. There were three tent sites shown on my map: as soon as I hit the first one, the climbing got really hard. Down into my lowest gear, taking frequent short breaks to let my heart rate drop 10-20 bpm.

Eventually I reached the pass. I had been riding on very new chipseal the whole way. At the top I saw the gravel spreader parked in what I’m guessing was the overlook. The first few miles of the downside was reduced to one lane, as the other had an unfinished bed of gravel. I had to wait with several cars until a pilot car led us down to the point where the road was no long under construction. It was hairpins all the way down, and I mostly kept pace with motor traffic.

When I got to the bottom, and exited the forest, I was overcome with emotion.

I made it quickly into the tiny town of Hillsboro and had lunch at the first place advertising “food,” Lynn Nusom’s Kitchen, which served me a huge and good breakfast burrito. I chatted with a couple who passed me on the climb in their RV—they’re on their way to Tucson to work on a balloonist’s crew for the balloon festival. The husband rides a recumbent, so we geeked out on bikes for a while. Very pleasant.

It was just after 3:00 when I got up from lunch. I felt inexplicably strong after 60 miles of mostly hard climbing. I knew it was pretty much downhill all the way to El Paso, so I decided to push on to Hatch.

It was 43 miles beyond Hillsboro, and I made it in just over three hours, tearing along over mostly flat land. When I got here, I received the rude surprise of learning that the one hotel in town was out of business. Has been for over a year apparently. There’s an RV park nearby. Not really set up to accommodate bike tourists—no communal toilet or shower. I cleaned up as best I could at a water hookup, pitched my tent, and had a sumptuous repast at the nearby gas station/Subway. Apparently the only restaurant open past 6:00.

It’s funny that Hatch is so well known for its peppers, but the town itself really doesn’t have much going on. It’s clearly not capitalizing on its reputation, and it’s not set up to.