Cycling Across America #69
Hurley, New Mexico
Part 69 of the Cycle-Across-America series. (Read from the start in Boston or see the full index)
Posts got slightly out of synch there for a bit. This is the real #69 with the previously named post #69 now being corrected to #70 Continental Divide. So the next new post will be #71. Sorry.
Anyway New Mexico is so big I’m still in the Land of Enchantment - being enchanted by the land as it happens.
These excerpts are from the handwritten sections of the journal, so are more manageable to read than the sprawling mess that is the transcripts of the audio sections.
Falling behind again. As ever my own fault but the elements didn’t help.
With the wind in my favour I didn’t rush out of Deming but I did forget to check for a bicycle shop. This was based on the presumption that any such shop would be closed on a Sunday so the search for more patches was postponed for Silver City.
From the phone book I now know that there was a bike shop in Deming and it was open today and closed yesterday Saturday. It’s very difficult to recognise Sundays on this trip. It’s not like Europe where regardless of country each Sunday stood out.
If I do remember Sundays in the US it will be because of the NFL and mostly the Chiefs. This is the 10th NFL Sunday and the Chiefs are back on winning terms.
There’s a better class of mural in Deming. 3 of them I liked but in awkward places to photograph. As they were painted to be seen rather than photographed I didn’t mind, I simply spent time looking.
Deming was founded as a railroad town over 100 years ago and named for Mary Deming Crocker, wife of a railroad magnate. I left the lettercard for a friend back in Dublin, written in the restaurant last night, at the reception this morning and chose Burger King instead for breakfast.
The decision was made on the basis that I needed to have a 40-mile breakfast and I knew I could get that in a fast food place but in the hotel or local cafe I might not. Seemed like months since I’d had Hash Browns, French Toast Sticks and a biscuit.
After chatting briefly with some locals I loaded up with tacky food and headed north. With the wind directly on my back it was easy but warm.
On this day of forecast rain and snow showers, what few clouds there were were quickly disappearing. Had to take the long pants and my jacket off.
In a wide shoulder I kept Long Grass at 15 mph and enjoyed the view. The horizon was ringed with mountains many of them perfect triangles sitting on the horizon all alone. I went past Black Mountain and crossed the Mimbres River. It was an entirely dry river bed - eerie.
[The rest of this post is continued below the fold]
In the museum in Deming I’d learned that to find water in these parts you have to drill down 100 feet but if you want to find enough water to irrigate your chillis or cotton you’ll have to drill down 1,000 feet.Cooke’s Peak was the most prominent on my right hand side as it had been yesterday on my left hand side, and all the time in the mirror I could see the Florida Mountains - all the more impressive when you see them next to so many other mountains.
And then I got a puncture.
Rather than replace it with my only good tube I fixed it. I got maybe 5 miles before it was flat again. Before using my good tube I checked it and it wasn’t so good. I had only two patches left and one of them was partly damaged. Decision time.
Gambled on using the bad patch on my best tube - the thorn proof one punctured by a thorn. Finally switched onto the new tyre also. The patch took; I could continue but in all I had lost an hour and even continuing at 15 mph it meant my 12 mile detour to see the City of Rocks was now in serious doubt.
To eliminate doubt the shoulder turned into a horrible surface and the wind swung around 120 degrees. My speed dropped to 8 mph and to have any chance of not cycling in the dark I knew I had no chance of seeing the Rocks.
Since having to reroute away from South Dakota I haven’t been so disappointed. And this was so frustrating as the Rocks like buildings on streets were only 6 miles off the road.
When the road turned north from north-west I got a break from the wind but knew the last 10 miles were straight into this wind and I believed I was still climbing. Contrary to what I’d been told at an award winning rest area (with wooden shelters facing every direction, and vending machines) there was actually a motel before I reached Silver City.
Hurley, site of the smelter of Chino Mines, also operated by Kennocot and Mitsubishi, calls itself the Gateway to Copper Mining Country. A few miles north-east is the Santa Rita open pit mine - the oldest active copper mine in the Southwest, El Cobre has been mined since 1785 by Indians, Spanish, Mexicans… Convict labour from New Spain mined the shafts with mule trains of ore sent down the Janus Trail to Chihuahua, Mexico.
As it turns out I’m already at an elevation of 5,700 feet so the trip to Silver City in the morning should not be overly taxing, wind permitting. If I’m making okay time I hope to take in some pueblo ruins and Fort Bayard which was built in 1866 for the “Buffalo Soldiers” of the 9th Cavalry. The fort borders an elk refuge so maybe I’ll get lucky and get a closer look at one.
Wildlife today was confined to another Tarantula and Meadowlarks, and another hawk. There was a flock of birds I took to be those red blotched blackbirds until when I looked closer I saw that only three of them were actually those blackbirds and the rest were a slightly smaller brown dull bird.
When I reached here it was turned 3 o’clock with only 14 miles to go but with the wind I knew that would mean almost an hour of cycling in the dark so time to play it safe and stop. Silver City to Lordsburg is only 42 miles so I can afford this little let down. That said, the wind is supposed to be strong from the west and I do need to get a lot of patches and some cement from a bike shop, and also get cash from either a bank or an ATM. I have less than 5 dollars including change.
I will drop down to 4,200 feet again tomorrow but that may not begin until I cross the Continental Divide for the second time in the Gila National Forest 18 miles south-west of Silver City.
Once in here I took the bags off and cycled ’round town taking a couple of snaps. The main street is called Cortez Street and has a nice white Spanish looking church. There are several rail tracks here with trains resting on them.
Earlier today I saw a train of only chemical cars at the foot of a perfect triangular mountain. I was thinking how like a giant segmented caterpillar it looked.
Across the road due west of here is Lone Mountain - it makes sense as a name except that so many of the mountains here are lone standing. The town is overlooked by red rocky ridges but in the distance the mountains are blue and nearer there is now a lot of grass around. I passed some tall cane-like grass - 10, 12 foot, which rustled so loudly it was like someone or something running in it following me.
And now it’s lettercard time for more friends back in Ireland. Tomorrow I’ll make calls and sort out the Phoenix Plan. I’ve been given orders by an American friend to get back to Kansas City for Thanksgiving, but I won’t be pushed. I’m not chasing dates and given the choice I want to go slowly across the States.
If I get any punctures before I reach Silver City then it I could be in trouble. Relative trouble, minor really like the speed at which tonight’s nice Mexican meal (Chicken enchilada’s and a relleno all smothered in green chillies) wanted to get out of my body.
I really want to ring home soon. Maybe then the dream will stop.
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