I am not used to sleeping on the floor, repeated nights in a row. The biggest issue I was having was a pillow. The smarter man would of probably purchased an inflatable version and brought it along, but I thought I could make do. For a moment I wondered if there was some ingenious way I could with my current kit solve the Pillow Riddle.
I added layers and packed up then sat on my tyvek groundcloth and put down some chocolate calories, knowing that if all went well and I made it over the CDT as planned I would be heading into the Infamous Gila forest.
I was not intimidated by what I had heard about the Gila. It would be the first serious off road climbing of the route, but after the TNGA and the rumored Appalachian type nature of the climbs in the Gila I felt it would not be a problem.
Again the day started on a climb.
As I made my way off the mountain I tried to look at the scenery and not obsess on the approaching turn off pavement I could see on the GPS taking me towards the CDT.
Finally I see dirt and I make my way.
Immediately the track turns upward into a wicked 4 x 4 jeep crawler type track. I'm loving it, enter the 22 ring!
I'm pedaling along, enjoying the jagged off road track thanking god that I was riding something that was more a kin to my preferences. Up and over I go, and then, something I didn't expect happens.. I peak out to a mountain top and I am way off track. I think for a second that maybe it was like the TNGA and the green track was not 100% accurate on skinny trail, but after some back tracking, I top out again, descend and then spend some more time searching and searching, this time trusting the green track instead of doubting it.
AND finally, I find the entrance to the CDT!!!!
Excited I jump right in, ascending and riding narrow track with exposed side cuts that punished you severely for any margin of error.
Up and down, a hike a bike here and pedal there I was in Singletrack Nirvana.
I stop to layer down and prepare for the heat of the day that was rapidly approaching. The sun launches into the sky fast in the desert. Amazingly fast.
I continue on the track, enjoying the views and snapping pics watching the green line and seeing where this fun will end, Singletrack is HARD to come by on the Tour Divide.
Eventually the fun does end and the track dumps out into a group campground. I had planned an off route detour to re stock on water. I had intentionally metered how much water I took up and over signal peak CDT to avoid carrying extra weight.
Every pump I checked was not ready, or working. So on I moved and I continued with my original plan. The heat was beaming off the pavement. But it was mostly downhill as I made my way to a section that the map called Lake Roberts. Interesting enough.
I had ridden a couple of miles and was starting to wonder if I would see this ranger station.
Just as I wonder I notice a cafe to my left. I approach the door and although its not open it says to ring bell.I press the button and a bell goes off in the house on my left.
A lady rushes out and ask me what I needed and I ask if I could purchase some soda. She is nice and conversational, and after going through the usual particulars that I usually get about what I am doing and where I am going she ask me how much water I am carrying.
She apparently is very familiar with the direction I am heading and she tells me I don't have enough water. She gets me an extra container and offers me Ice and water for all my bottles, my bladder and the extra empty bottle she just gifted me.
I had a moment of clarity and asked her if she would sell me a sandwich. Frances handed me the menu and told me to order whatever I wanted. Indeed this was a cafe, but business had been slow, but she was more then eager to help out a fellow traveler and adventurer.
Frances was a marketing professor from Chicago who decided she wanted to change her life and come live out there in New Mexico. A better life. She told me stories about other people who she had to save who were bike touring and did very poor planning.
It was the best cheeseburger I had ever had. I ate and we talked, I used the bathroom, paid and left.
Before leaving I soaked my Specialized Sun arm protectors in water, my under shirt and the bandanna I was wearing under my helmet. I put this all on.
For years I have done lots of studying on how to survive and thrive in various conditions and I knew that in the Dry desert moisture gets sucked out of everything so even though it was hot, I was putting on as much layers as I would wear if the weather was cold.
I made my way towards the Forest road that would start my Trek across the Gila.
After several miles I turn off the pavement and begin the climb up to the plateau. And just then I hear a familiar sound as my phone starts chiming from receiving voice mails and sounding off from receiving text messages. The symphony of sounds eventually subsided, for the first time in a day and half I had cell signal so I took a moment to respond to messages and make a few calls.I was already feeling not so good. Was I still suffering from sleep deficit? Had I ate too much to late in the day??? No matter I persevered.
I got up on the plateau thinking the trail would flatten out, but no. I kept climbing. Once the climbing subsided, I then started hitting the absolute worst washboards I had ever encountered.
My motivation was low. My arms were experiencing fatigue similar to ripping out repeated push ups to muscle failure. I got into my aero bars but the position was hard to maintain in the washboards and it was just not as comfortable as I remembered or preferred.
I resorted to weaving left and right across the road trying to find the less washboarded spot. Tried to surf the very edge where the road was smooth, but they sharply graded the roads on the edges to form a drainage and I slipped and fell into the ditch.
This continued for several hours and my feelings of exhaustion persisted. I took breaks. Thoughts of quitting came into my mind and I would eat gummy worms and they would go away, and then I would repeat. I feared my arm fatigue would mean me slipping my grip and hitting my face on the bars.
The day persisted. I would spend hours going up only to finish the rewarding downhill in less than 3 minutes. I kept thinking how much easier this would be coming from the other way, how much more downhill I would have.
It was hard to gauge my progress and where I was on the map. I was really beating myself up cause my progress was miserably slow. Although my pace had been fine at the beginning I had really lost some serious forward momentum this past day and a half.
Its funny how the your own mind will kick your own ass. And I was in full on ass kicking mode. Just beating myself up about it all.
After what seemed like an eternity I was descending when I spotted a campground and a sign that said Rocky Canyon. Along with that sign I saw a car of all things.
I spoke to the campers. Chit Chatting mostly. I asked them how far Black Canyon was and he said 4 miles and she said 8 miles. I looked at the elevation profile sheet and felt at my exhaustion level it was better to just camp. This spot had a picnic table and a porta pottie, why not.
Thinking strategy I felt it best to go to bed early again and see if more rest would make me feel better. I felt so defeated, so tired, that continuing the race was mentally in serious jeopardy.
I had no appetite. I did my best to choke something down and then when I laid down, It took all my concentration to not throw up what I had just ate.
More to come.
Laters,
The NaKeD InDiaN
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