DAY 14: 10/3 Kingston, NM to Las Cruces, NM

DAY 14: 10/3/21 Kingston, NM 92 miles to Las Cruces, NM – 

This was the first morning that it was hard to get out of bed. Really hard. It was a combination of accumulated body fatigue, and it was a cold morning around 50 degrees. I was tired and sore and yearned for rest. Thankfully, we had a rest day set up for tomorrow.

Although we were in a cute cabin, it was clammy and cold since we could not figure out how to work the heat. I said aloud, to myself more than to Heather, “Time to make the donuts” and with that I jumped out of bed. It’s a rallying cry that I use occasionally meaning it is time to get to work; and it is the refrain from the Dunkin Donuts classic commercial from 1984 my second year of university. 

Cabin at the Lodge

Dress for 50 degrees

While at the Lodge, we enjoyed dinner and breakfast conversations with a group of about a dozen photographers who get together annually. This was an extra special gathering for them with last year’s Covid cancellation. They ranged in age from their 60’s to 80’s. One of them, a woman named Storm, shared how she began triathlons in her 50’s and then power weightlifting in her 60’s. It was impressive to hear of her growth mindset and she left an impression on me for another reason as well. 

Dining at the Lodge

After a warm, healthy and delicious breakfast with the photographers, we left just before 9am. The first 25 miles of riding or so were a drop from 6,200’ to 4,200’ and that sheer delight of a descent was the easiest start we’ve had. It was gorgeous mountain scenery as we headed due east on Highway 152 to Caballo. We started wearing multiple layers of clothing, and by 10am had peeled them off as it warmed. 

The ride to Caballo 

As we approached Caballo just before 11am, the reservoir shined in the sunlight and suddenly nothing hurt me. With the sight of the water, I was smiling ear to ear and a driver passing me the other way would wonder why I was so happy. 

As we now headed south on Highway 187, the scenery turned greener. Hatch Valley is called by some the Napa Valley of green chili peppers. 

Green Valley

With green farmland on both sides of me, and mountains beyond that, and the sun warming, I was cycling in a blissful state reflecting back on blessings received. I came upon Heather who snapped this photo as I approached. 

In total equilibrium

I stopped to chat with Heather and then she went off while I paused longer to drink and jot down some journal notes. No sooner had I written about my blissful state, less than five minutes later I encountered a big white dog. Unlike my first canine pursuer which came from across the street, providing me extra warning time, this was an attack on the right flank. I yelled my loudest NO NO NO, but to no avail. The dog didn’t turn back and pursued me directly from behind. I pedaled my absolute fastest fueled by the adrenaline rush induced by great fear. After 10 seconds of direct chase in the middle of the road, i could see in my mirror it stopped its pursuit. And just in time as my lungs were burning. I went another mile slowly, and felt safe so pulled over to regroup and recover in case it should recur. 

About 20 minutes later, I caught up to Heather and relayed the story of my white dog chase. It only then dawned on me that she may have met him first. Sure enough, she did and described to me in great detail - it was the same dog. It got to within 4 feet of her and I’m proud to say she’s also using the NO NO NO. We laughed at the common terror and rode together to Hatch and to the famous Sparky’s Burgers and BBQ, a roadside attraction. Neither of us have ever eaten green chili, but our Silver City host, who knows his food, said we need to come here; the midday lineup of 40 plus convinced us it’s the place to be.

It’s worth the wait

Two clowns in line

Heather went for the classic - the cheeseburger smothered in green chili, plus waffle fries with cheese, and a shake. I had grilled chicken also smothered in green chili, plus pineapple slaw and a shake. 

It was truly amazing. I noticed Heather moaning with each bite. At a moan count literally of 16, I shared with her that I was counting and asked if she realized she was becoming me. She said she was stuffed and then ate the last 3 of her waffle fries, dipping each in full cheese.  I asked her why she’s still eating if stuffed. She replied because they’re so good. I noticed she still had two thirds of her shake left. I knew she would not finish it and I was like a vulture circling above an animal carcass waiting for my spoils. Sure enough, she passed me the shake. Caramel. Definitely not as good as the Oreo one I had. I polished it off anyhow. 

No way she finishes hers

After this feast, we were bursting and still had to bike 40 miles. Getting going after such a long break, our legs felt like rubber. After a nearly two hour break and heavy lunch, we needed a siesta, not a seat on a bike. 

As we started to ride now on Highway 185, I thought to myself there’s no way I could now escape a dog attack. And then uncannily Heather said that exact thought about herself. I reminded her of the old joke that I don’t need to outrun a bear in the woods, I only need to outrun her and adapted it to a dog. She was not amused. I immediately assessed myself 5 more demerit points in the husband ledger. 

By 4:30pm, at 70 miles thus far with over 20 left to go, Heather was feeling the stomach rumbles and asked me to remind her to never eat lunch like that again. She struggled the rest of the day which was a double the shame as it was a beautiful ride. 

At 5pm, I enjoyed riding with an orchard of trees to my right, and the sun getting lower in the sky to the west beyond the trees. It had the effect of casting great, cooling shade on me and giving me a warming flick of light as the sun peaked through when I passed between each row of trees. Just as I wondered what kind of trees they were, a sign answered my question. 

A sign to answer my question 

Half an hour later we were finally getting close and turned onto a bike path with spectacular mountains beyond the city. 

The final approach

At last around 6:30pm, as the sun was setting, we pulled up to our Warm Showers host Dan’s street. 

Sunset as we arrive

We could quickly tell Dan had an almost innate understanding of our needs from his text at 5pm “should I have the hot tub waiting?” That plus the pizza delivery pulling up right as we did, the frosted mugs for ice water and his two tubs of rich Tillamook ice cream - a new brand for us. His understanding was rooted in his own TransAmerica bike crossing as a group leader nearly 30 years ago.

The perfect end of a day

We had lots to talk about. But Dan was not alone in welcoming us. We were warmly greeted by Fred and Ethel who we got to know as well!

Mark, Fred and Ethel. See kids, I told you I’m not terrified!

© Copyright Mark Segal 2021.