As we immerse ourselves in deep winter, there’s no better time to reflect on 90-degree bikepacking days and the scalding sun of the Southwestern United States. Six months ago, my best friend Will Reynolds and I embarked on the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route. The New Mexico portion of the GDMBR was the spiciest in terms of cuisine, temperature, and company. This is the first of 4 blog posts outlining the characters we encountered and the adventures we experienced.

All photography taken by Will Reynolds

Chapter 1 Jeffery Sharp:

We arrived in El Paso, TX on May 18th with bike boxes just under the United Airlines oversized baggage limit and no idea what we were about to get into. After a feast of Whataburger, a last-minute Walmart run and a restless night’s sleep in a Motel 8 we met Jeffery Sharp, our chauffeur to Antelope Wells, NM. Jeffery pulled up in an early 2000s Jeep Grand Cherokee with a huge trailer. He instructed us to place our bikes in the trailer and strap them down for a two-hour ride with heavy winds.

Our ride was filled with conversation around border politics, stories of legendary great divide riders, packing tips, and what our stay at the Hachita Bike Ranch (Jeffery's Home) would be like. As we pulled into his dirt road driveway Jeffery said we could drop our bags and ride the first 45 miles from the border unloaded. We made our way south and ran into Jeff, Jeffery's friend who was biking shirtless in the dry New Mexico desert that we were about to get very familiar with. We scooped up Jeff, convinced him to ride with us, and 3 hours later we finished day 1. Jeffery greeted us with a cold Coors Light, a friendly tarantula in our room, and Gold starring Matthew McConaughey. Jeffery will go down as an excellent host and friend to the bike-packing community.

Chapter 2 Alex O:

We began day 2 with spirits high, fresh kits, and ~60 miles to Silver City, NM. Day two destroyed any physical shape we thought we were in as headwinds dwindled our average pace to sub 8mph, dry heat unknowingly burned our skin and thorns punctured our tires (well just mine). We hit Silver City and awoke to news of wildfires on route throughout the rest of New Mexico. Will and I spent the majority of day three consuming this newfound red and green sauce, making friends with the bike shop for tubeless tires, and rerouting suggestions to pedal our way around the fires in Gila National Forest. We left just in time for the headwinds to destroy our souls...again. As we reached mile 30 of pedaling non-stop we struggled to find any camping options or lodging along highway 180. We mustard together our thinking caps and used Google Earth to locate a large field with potential for camping, this was actually a ranch and had a phone number listed. I called the number and Alex answered, agreeing to our request to camp and informing us of his swimming pool, wifi, and friendly dogs who would greet us upon entry.

We merged off the 180 shoulder and began a beautiful ride to the ranch. This was our first glimpse of the beauty that our route had to offer. This 10-mile stretch was filled with rolling hills, an amazing sunset, and a long-awaited tailwind. As we pulled off to the ranch we emerged into this compound consisting of a pool house, a hot tub, a saloon, a movie theatre, and a plethora of bunk houses all from the mid-1800s. After some searching, we were greeted by two massive furry dogs and a man named Alex who looked exactly like them.

Alex was a wonderful host and walked us through the history of his complex, but said we'd need to stay and pay for the full tour the next day if we wanted any additional information. He gave us a tour of the wood-fired hot tub, allowed us to swim in the pool, access the wifi, and tour the saloon. We made camp in a wind-protected bungalow, made mashed potatoes, and facetimed loved ones with our wifi access. What started as a bummer having to reroute the most beautiful part of New Mexico turned into a blessing at the L & C Ranch.

Chapters 3 Greta & Andre:

Our 5-star hotel stay at the L & C Ranch had us reenergized (after 3 days) and ready to take on the rest of New Mexico. The following days still consisted of reroutes and new surprises, but we finally reconnected with the Great Divide, slept under bright stars at the cosmic campground, and made our way towards Pie Town. We had a vision of this magnificent mecca filled with pie, coffee, groceries, fellow riders, and bike shops galore. As we pulled into pie town we were met with trump flags and out-of-business signs. We climbed one last hill and found a restaurant with a sign for coffee and pie only. The host was generous and fired up the kitchen for pecan pie, egg rolls, and a fresh pot of joe. Spirits were lifted and bellies were full as we made our way to the Toaster House.

The Toaster House is the VIP of hiker and biker hostels in the southwest. We are greeted by hikers informing us of more news about national forest closures and helpful tips to navigate around the parks. The home is cozy with beds scattered throughout the two-story cottage, a fully stocked kitchen with snacks and beverages, and the Grateful Dead playing in the background. Will and I claimed our bed upstairs along with two fellow hikers and passed out for an hour or so. We are awoken by a familiar voice greeting everyone in the hostel. I failed to mention that on our way out of Hachita with Jeffery we ran into a couple starting a day later than us. Greta & Andre began their journey 24 hours after us and had caught up!

Greta & Andre are the most magnificent souls we have encountered on the trail. They are South African ex-pats in their sixties taking 6-8 weeks to bike the divide. We quickly reconnected and talked strategy for our journey to Grants, NM. We agreed to ride together the next day and conversed over their time in South Africa, what brought them to Canada, why they were cycling the divide, how they stay active, their children, grandchildren, and everything a mid-twenty-year-old may want to know from an in-love couple on an amazing adventure.

We have since crossed paths with Greta & Andre for hundreds of miles. We broke headwinds together on the way to Grants, followed each other’s tracks through washboard and sand, shared beers in a junkyard brewery, exchanged texts for best reroutes (Andre has been planning this for 3 years), and have adopted them as our trail parents for the duration of this trip.

We split up after Grants as Will and I took a Mad Max esq alt route to Cuba, NM. We camped under the stars and basked in the tan and pink scenery that is the beauty of the NM desert. As we rolled into Cuba we saw a familiar couple crossing the street... Greta & Andre had beat us to Cuba. Here we learned about their lives, what brought them to Canada, how they've sustained such a long-lasting relationship and more strategies around our upcoming miles.

Chapter 4 Bridger:

As we departed Cuba, Will and I caught a tailwind and were cooking (around 12mph) for our final New Mexico stretch to Chama. Greta & Andre got a head start and we were determined to catch them. Mile after mile felt like a breeze, we encountered cattle drives (I discovered I'm quite terrified of rogue cows), helped a farmer (who looked straight out of a Filson catalog) move his cows off the road, and listened to our respective audiobooks. We crushed ~75 miles quickly, resupplied in Cuba, and decided to make the push for Colorado. We were both stoked on the idea of finishing a century on fully loaded 26' mountain bikes. We began the unforgiving climb towards the border only to encounter car after car telling us to turn back due to wildfires. Will and I lost steam and descended right back into New Mexico. We clocked 93 miles on the day and decided to reward ourselves with a few beverages. This is where we meet Bridger.

Will and I take a stool at the bar and order a local IPA with a side of breakfast burritos (at 9 pm). The man next to us is decked out in an old Stetson, Wranglers, a tucked-in flannel, and looks worn from a long day of herding livestock. He introduces himself and we begin trading stories of the trail and what we'll encounter in Wyoming (where Bridger is from). We learn that Bridger is actually 26 and consulting a ranch in Chama on the practice of regenerative agriculture. We're fascinated and begin picking his brain and buying beer/shot combos. As New York and Atlanta residents, we have a lot to learn from a peer pursuing agriculture in the midwest. Will and I were inspired but unfortunately couldn't hang with the drinking pace. We both woke up the next morning with massive headaches and a climb to repeat into Colorado.

This night marked the end of our time in New Mexico and as tough as it was, I'd do it all again.