San Lorenzo, NM to Caballo Reservoir, NM

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Shawne and Jo say...
Day 22
Mileage Today: 57.5
Total Miles: 868.1
Flats Today: 0
Total Flats: 27

Last night, Manuel locked the German Shepherd inside the horse trailer so he wouldn't bother us. The puppy wanted us to play with him, so he'd wake us up, snooping around our bikes and scratching at the door to the tent. The German Shepherd, however, was so upset that he was locked up while strangers were present, he barked and whined all night. Farm workers were in and out of the front gate in pickups and on foot, headed for the shop behind the house. A strange snorting noise cam from across the street, and we assume it was a Javelina.
In the middle of the night, Jo broke out a set of earplugs which were attached to each other by a cord. Orginally, Jo gave them to Shawne so he could sleep, but then she couldn't...so she got up and walked around the front yard, talking to the dog and cooing him. Finally, she woke Shawne up. We broke the cord between the earplugs so we each had one, and burrowed our other ear into the sleeping bag to try to sleep.
As we packed in the morning, Lydia came outside to say good morning. She asked if we slept well, and we mentioned the Javelina waking us up, but said nothing about the dogs or workers. Manuel and Lydia had been so kind to let us stay there, we didn't want them to feel bad about our lack of sleep. We just blamed it on being in a strange place with strange noises, and left it at that.
Lydia invited us in for coffee when we were done packing. It was so cold that our tent was soaked on the inside from the condensation our bodies produced overnight. Once inside the house, Lydia asked if we would like some oatmeal. We quickly answered yes! Our noses were running like mad now that we were inside the warm home. Lydia even offered us hot cinnamon rolls with butter! We were in heaven!
We all sat for an hour and a half, talking about our trip and their farm. Manuel told us that they once had 1,500 apple trees and would sell the fruit to a vendor who would come and pick it up. One day the vendor came by and said that he no longer wanted their apples, so they were stuck with 800 bushels of fruit with no refrigeration unit to store them. They explained that apples are very labor intensive, and help was hard to find. They abandoned their apple idea, but still have some trees that produce great tasting fruit.
We learned that the farm first had power lines run to it in 1954 and that the main street through town was named after the family. With our bellies full, we donned our extra layers and once again braved the elements. Thank you so much to Manuel and Lydia for all you've done!
Down the street, we had to cross running water that flowed across the road. Then we began our ascent to the 8,200 foot peak. The climb was not at all as bad as we expected. Again, there was no shoulder, but there was very little traffic. Shawne rounded a corner and to his surprise, there stood a huge bull with painful-looking horns...staring straight at him. He yelled at Jo, who hadn't come around the corner yet.
"There is a bull with huge horns right here!"
"Is it dead?" she asked.
"No...do you think we will be okay to pass it?"
"Sure!" Jo said confidently. Then, she came around the corner, saw the enormous creature, and stopped dead in her tracks. "I thought you said it was a deer!" she said.
Luckily, neither of us were wearing red, although Jo's drysack on her trailer is red. We have no experience with bulls, so we couldn't read this guy at all. Shawne pulled the safety off of our cans of bear mace, not knowing if it would have any effect at all on a charging bull...but it was all we had.
We stood, staring at each other for a few minutes. "Well, we gotta go sometime," Shawne said.
Just as we started to walk our bikes across to the opposite side of the road, the bull slowly turned around and started walking uphill, plowing over bushes and snapping tree branches as he avoided walking on the pavement. We let him round the next corner before advancing. When we caught up to him, he would stop and look back at us, causing us to stop and stare back. This act was repeated for about ten minutes. Sick of us following him, we finally lumbered into the trees and off the road. We could hear branches snapping as we passed the spot where he left us, assuring us that he was safely off our route.
A stiff tailwind pushed on our backs as more trees began to appear. Inside a rock canyon, we paused for pictures and water. So far, the grade had been very manageable, but our map showed the worst was yet to come. We passed a few beautiful state campgrounds. It seemed a waste that we were riding past them. It was cold, and it was difficult to decide which clothes to wear. When we dressed warmly, we would sweat through our clothes, and we were too hot. When we shed some clothing, it was too late. Our clothes were wet from sweat, and the chill cut to our bones.
The forest grew taller and thicker as the wind became stronger and more unpredictable. There were no guard rails to protect us from the hazardous drop off into the deep canyons on the roadside. The grade was really steep, and we strained to move ahead. Suddenly, a huge gust of wind came at us from the left side, pushing us both four feet toward the right side of the road. Shawne's tires crossed the white line and took him within inches of going over into the canyon. Out of habit, he clicked out of his right pedal to put his foot down, then realized there was nowhere to put his foot down. He clicked his left foot out of its pedal as his handlebars switched back and forth, trying to stay balanced yet steering away from danger.
Still fighting the side wind, he managed to put some distance between himself and the edge. His heart was racing, but Jo actually had to stop. She almost vomited at the thought that Shawne almost went over the edge. She said that 400 scanrios went through her head all at once, making her ill. We rested for a bit as the wind swirled around us; rushing through the branches, it mimicked the sound of approaching car. We looked back constantly.
Steeper, winding switchbacks appeared as the wind grew stronger. Rounding one bend would present a harsh headwind, while the next corner would cause the air to push on our side. The GPS kept us from guessing as the altimeter climed closer to 8,000 feet. Finally the summit appeared. We weren't really tired of pedaling, but were glad we didn't have to fight the wind on an uphill anymore.
The summit outside of Three Way, AZ was a lot tougher than this pass. We paused at the top and enjoyed the view from the scenic overlook. We could see our road snaking down off the mountain and heading out toward the Caballo
Reservoir, some thirty miles away. Jo was concerned about the downhill because of the crazy wind we were experiencing. It wasn't bad, though. The grade was very gradual on the other side, and the wind died down.
Shawne spotted a cell phone on the side of the road and stopped to pick it up. It was in good condition and still had enough juice to turn on. He stuck it in his pocket and continued on.
We passed through the small town of Hillsboro, where everything was closed. There were no people on the streets, and not a single business was open. It seemed creepy to us. We entered a huge valley, and we were still going downhill. A long, straight road led to the Reservoir. We didn't really pedal for 25 miles!
As the sun set, we found the state park. 'Primitive Camping' was $8.00, but a 'Developed Site' was $10. Nowhere on the park map did it show where to find the developed sites. We went down to the primitive camping are to check it out. The pavement led us to the boat launch where a sign warned us that the road ended at the water!
Turning down a dirt road, we tried to find our site. The road was very rough with loose sand and large rocks...not suitable at all for our road bikes. We turned around when it seemed the dirt road was leading farther than we were willing to ride. We decided to go back up to the RV spots and set up camp in a $14 spot, but only pay $10.
The park wasn't very crowded, so we figured it wouldn't be a big deal. We discovered that the water wasn't working when we opened the valve, and pressurized air blew out with a loud "WHOOSH"! A repairman arrived and raced through the campground. He opened random faucets, finding no water, then burned out in his pickup. He slid around corners and exited the campground. He came back later, his arrival announced by a cloud of dust as he tore around the corner. He had a part to fix the water system.
With Speed Racer gone, we could finally get to sleep!

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Photos

OUCH!
Jo's sunburn is blistering

THIS IS BULL!
No, really.

Evasive maneuvers
The bull was too smart for us, crossing the road in a blocking move.

Playing follow the bull
Sounds like something you do when you have a job!

Finally...
the bull exits the road. YA MULE!

Awesome canyon
The wind channelled through fiercely

Rock bottom
This river had a rock bottom.

Emory Pass! 8,200 feet!
TA DA!!! And for our next trick....

Jo is so excited!
She loves steep downhill grades! (yeah right)

Dinner?
We've seen quite a few dead snakes.

That was close!
We were glad they put this sign up for us! (This is a boat launch)

Comments

[pete]

Texas is coming up fast. I'll be happy to put you up in a hotel for a night or even ride the Buell down and camp with you guys as you come through. Great story and a great ride. Keep it coming. Call me if I can help 775.815.1916