Saturday and Sunday, September 11th and 12th

Cuba, NM is another one-road town in a fairly arid section of northern New Mexico about 50 miles from Santa Fe as a crow flies. We had our pancake breakfast for long lasting energy and got off around 9am, after it had warmed up some. The first 15 miles went fast with a downhill bent and a good gravel road later on. Things got a little more challenging when we turned further south and started to encounter the dreaded soft sand. This stuff requires a lot of balance and focus to get through without crashing. Seems I had that for the first part of the day, but not for the second part. After lunch towards the end of our ride hit the soft sand again but this time couldn't control the front wheel and crashed on my side. No real damage done just my confidence singed a little. All long the route we had immense vistas of the high desert - mesas, volcanic plugs, arroyos, cactus - a coalescency of what makes a desert. After 72 miles of riding we stopped above a washed out creek by the side of the dirt road. Camping in the desert is a unique experience, pitching a tent happens quickly and the heat turns to cool right when the sun starts down and the moisture that usual requires drying out is not there in the morning. The extra water I had packed for the trip leaked all through my bag getting my sleeping bag, mat, and towel wet. All but the towel dried before bedtime. The issue then became that we didn't have enough of a cushion on water to reach Grants, NM the next day.

Sunday woke to a beautiful sunrise and a dry tent and a worry of water. Didn't have the usual oatmeal breakfast but had bars instead to conserve water. Hit the road around 8 am with ups and downs through arroyos. Our target for lunch was the San Mateo spring, a good climb from the desert. Along the way checked out some cattle troughs to see if we should pump some water, all of them were so incredibly filthy that decided to wait. Came across some cattle by the road, they were eating grass and then saw us and started stampeding (still don't get what we do or look like that makes them spook out by bicycle riders). They ran along side of us for a while then started crossing the road just ahead of us, jumping the guard rail, getting caught on it, falling in the road. I was scared one of them would bust a leg, but all got over and ran off.

John and I were starting our climb to the springs when we stopped a pick-up asking for water, they gave us what they had, one full bottle, and then showed us the spike elk they killed with a bow a couple of hours earlier, it was as big as a horse. Initially it wasn't apparent where to find water at San Mateo Springs. John walked up the hill about a quarter of a mile and found some cool, clean water that easily got us to Grants. Given the long day before in the sand John and I were whipped going up the mountain. I think we needed a rest day for the last eight days or so of riding until the end. Our bodies were telling us no more for now. Less than 400 miles to go and Mike Jackson from Austin, TX will be joining us for the last leg to the Mexico border.

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