Getting to the start

July 12, 2022

This past Sunday was my birthday and an epic rager went down Friday. This birthday was the Big One, and many friends, neighbors, and cycling buddies joined the festivities. Transgang hommies Klaus and Eileen represented. ADV amigo Heber baked an amazing cake that featured a cyclist cutout. The fire department showed up at midnight. They had received a mistaken call that someone was locked in the bathroom, which added to the frivolity.

The rest of the week was spent winding down the teaching semester and preparing my apartment for my house sitter. I used a service called Trusted Housesitters and made an arrangement with a Hungarian woman named Edina. I needed to provide her with a clean apartment and lists of what to do in case of an emergency. In addition, my evil landlord was taking me to court, which my attorney would be dealing with while I was away. On top of that I’d daily been studying the New Mexico fire maps and triple checking my gear and detour options. The GDMBR Facebook group got me nervous about bears and I purchased a Urbag from REI. After consulting with Jeff and Chris I returned it.

I rode a thirty mile shakedown ride on my new rig to Rockaway beach and back fully loaded on my birthday. It was hot and sunny, and I did it without sunscreen to darken my Texas tan. My airline tickets had been purchased as a round trip out of El Paso. I had finished my second Southern Tier segment in El Paso just a few weeks ago, and was stoked to be heading to New Mexico and those ginormous mountains I’d seen to the west.

I felt somewhat uneasy returning to Texas, a state that I didn’t particularly enjoy. On ST Part 2 Day #12 I had ridden by Uvalde, where nineteen school children and two teachers had been slain this past Tuesday. This is the only country on earth where this shite happens. I’m thankful that I live in New York City, yet even here another person was slain last week on the subway. Ban hand guns. Ban automatic guns. Ugh.

I’d arranged to be picked up at the airport and shuttled to the start at Antelope Wells by Jeffery Sharp, who runs the Hachita Bike Ranch. His email signature reads:

Keep your thoughts positive, because your thoughts become your words.

Keep your words positive, because your words become your behaviors.

Keep your behaviors positive, because your behaviors become your habits.

Keep your habits positive, because your habits become your values.

Keep your values positive, because your values become your destiny.

Mahatama Gandhi

In preparation for the Divide I’ve been watching Ryan Van Duzer’s videos. He did the GDMBR US segment last year, and a snippet of the Trans Mexico del Norte route last January. His buddy John rides with his dog Mira. Their adventures are as nutty as the stuff I do.

My house sitter Edina arrived Wednesday evening and yesterday we rode all over Manhattan on my tandem with my dog Blanka in the rear crate. Cycling is the best way to visit anywhere, and Blanka always leaves a trail of smiles. Last night I slept well on my studio floor on an air mattress. I was in a deep sleep at 4am when the alarm went off. I called the Über, rolled up the mattress, and said goodbye to Blanka and Edina. Über driver Kangning arrived in a Toyota Sienna, and the trip to LaGuardia was quick. This was the exact same flight, airline, and airport which mistakenly held up my bike for four days when I flew to Mazatlán for the TransMexico del Norte. They had mistakenly believed that it was an eBike with lithium ion batteries. I now clearly mark my bike boxes to indicate that it’s a bicycle with no electronics or batteries. I also now obsess with the online baggage tracker and watch the plane as it’s being loaded and unloaded.

Check-in and security went smooth. I was wearing my cycling sandals, convertible pants, a down sweater, and my helmet. It was warm in the aircraft and I removed my sweater. I had purchased an Eli Zabar Orange juice and an Utterly nutty granola bar in the terminal at LaGuardia, which I enjoyed in my seat by the window. It was a smooth flight to Dallas Ft Worth and I slept for most of it.

The following flight to El Paso was out of the same terminal. I watched as my bike was removed from the first plane, and then grabbed an egg bacon bagel from Einstein Bros Bagels. I sat by the window and watched for my bike to arrive and be loaded onto the second plane. My boarding zone was called and I still hadn’t noticed it on the tarmac. While walking down the aisle to my seat, I spotted my bike through the window. By the time I was in my seat, the tracker indicated it was safe in the aircraft’s belly. I texted Jeffery to tell him that everything was going according to plan.

In El Paso Jeffery met me at baggage claim and my boxes soon arrived. Airport parking was only $1. We drove through El Paso where I’d been only three weeks prior. It was a three hour drive to the Bicycle Ranch in Hachita, and Jeffery filled me in on all aspects flora, fauna, geography, and cycling.

I painstakingly assembled my bike at the ranch. I was nervous, and had to re-do a few things. I did a practice loop at the ranch, but was reluctant to go for the dirt ramp at Jeffery’s insisting. We loaded my bike into Jeffery’s vehicle and headed south to the Mexican border at Antelope Wells. We passed the Hatchet mountains as we rode into the Chihuahua desert. It was 102°F and Jeffery was warning me about the dust devils. Border Patrol vehicles were everywhere, and the border fence was an ugly scar torn across the landscape.

The sky clouded up and there were even a few raindrops on the windshield. Jeffery dropped me off at the border and insisted that I down a bottle of water. I lathered myself with sunscreen and then we documented the beginning of the tour. I was on my way north towards Canada.