Nancy's Travel Journal

 

We left El Paso a little later than usual because of traffic in the city.  But, it didn't take long to get on the Old Mission Trail (Rte 258).  I rode by myself for a while, but then saw some folks at the San Elizario Mission.  The mission was originally a Spanish presidio, built in 1789 and used to defend settlers from Apache and Comanche raids.  It was eventually abandoned.  It is said that the Spanish explorer Juan de Onata celebrated a Thanksgiving here in 1598, 23 years before Plymouth.  Today, it is a beautiful mission church built from the ruins of the original presidio.  My friend Maggie from Hawaii is sitting on the wall just in front of the church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 From the Mission, we rode on to Tornillo, with our main focus on a local restaurant, La Calesa.  While the new owner (only 20 days on the job) was excited to see us, she had to call in her extended family and order more groceries to feed 28 hungry women.  The food was outstanding.  We also had an interesting experience at the school across the street, which will be in a special post.

From there, it was an easy 20 miles into Ft. Hancock.  But, there are always flat tires to change.  We do this whenever the need arises.  It is heartwarming that these women support each other and never ride on if they can lend a hand or moral support. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our destination for the evening was the Ft. Hancock Motel, only a small step up from Sheffield's. The good news is that I had my own room for the night.  It seemed like a luxury, but I found that it was a bit lonely.  There was no one to talk to and no one to look around in the morning and tell me what I had left behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Despite its questionable appearance, it is a favorite stopping place for cross country cyclists on the Adventure Cycling southern route, perhaps because it is the only one from many miles.  We  met two men who are doing the same route we are.  Since one of them had a shirt that said Georgia Tech, I asked if he had attended there.  Irv Hoffman graduated in 1960.  Of course he had dated some women from Agnes Scott!  When I told him I was from Metter, he replied that Robert Hulsey was a fraternity brother.  What a small world.  I called Bill later in the evening and he called Robert to tell him.  So this picture is for you, Robert.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One unfortunate event occurred today.  Ellee, one of our guides, fell in El Paso and broke her arm.  She will be out for a few days, but will join us again soon.  We are so glad nothing worse happened.  

We left Las Cruces around 8:00 AM with members of the Bike and Chowder Bicycle Club, who escorted us for about 30 miles.  For a while I rode with "Bo" who has a nephew, Jeff Davis (not hard to remember that name) in the landscaping business in Gainesville, GA.  Wonder if Adrian Flack has run across him?  That would be a small world.  The terrian and crops made me feel right at home.  We pass Stahmann Pecans, http://www.stahmanns.com/ one of the largest pecan growers in the world.  Unlike South Georgia, pecan grove irrigation is done by flooding the fields three times a year.  Thought folks might enjoy the sign as well.  Jimmy Trapnell, do you have to put up signs like these?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In addition to chili peppers (not planted yet), the farmers also grow cotton (also not planted) and onions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just when you think you have seen it all, there are more interesting sites to see.  I hesitate to share these yard art photos, because it might give Bill some ideas for our yard.  The giant squirrel may cause problems for the pecan farmers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We might just want to stick with our bicycles instead of this car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somewhere around mile 36 on this day we left New Mexico and entered Texas.  Going through El Paso was a bit scary at times.  We did ride through downtown, which was quite charming.  But, soon we entered the Cesar Chavez Parkway for about 8 harrowing miles.  It was basically an expressway with wide shoulders.  Thank goodness it was Sunday, so the traffic was not bad.  For you cyclists who know me, I was able to set the pace for 5 other women along this road.  Somehow I was feeling strong for a while.  The expressway was along the Mexican-American border.  The picture below depicts what we saw to our left the entire 8 miles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the exit to this road, we cycled about three miles to our motel for the night.  My roommate for the evening is Anne Cowan from Bristol, TN.  You can see her website from the links on this site.  Once again we had our traditional celebration on crossing a state border with "adult beverages" with dinner.  It was a long hard day.

 

From the time I awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon, the day felt like something really special.  We enjoyed a hearty breakfast of eggs (from local "deranged" chickens), bacon, hash brown potatoes, and fresh squeezed orange juice.  As we were loading the van,  the sounds of Cat Steven's "Morning Has Broken" came from the piano played by one of our riders.  Then I walked outside to this scene.  Notice the fresh snow on the mountain.                                                                                                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was 40 degrees when I pedaled out of Kingston, dressed in my regular cycling clothes, plus arm warmers, booties over my shoes, long-fingered gloves, and a headband.  So I felt warm as the road took us down 2000 feet in the first 10 miles.  The vistas were incredible.  I had to stop several times to contemplate the beauty of God's world and take some pictures.  The pictures don't tell the whole story, but give a flavor of what we saw.  This part of the ride was truly a spiritual experience.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a few more miles, we were in the flat lands, but the weather was still cool.  This farm scene was not far from our first site of the Rio Grande River.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After this point we pedaled along the Rio Grande for quite a while.  In Hatch (famous for its chilies) we stopped after 51 miles, at the Pepper Pot (appropriately named) for lunch.  Some riders from the Las Cruces cycling club had been there earlier and pedaled into Las Cruces with our faster riders.  After lunch, it was a long way to Las Cruces, passing pecan trees, chili fields (ready for planting) and some very expensive homes scattered along the road.  After 88 miles, I arrived in Las Cruces and the Hampton Inn, our home for the evening.  The Las Cruces Cycling Club, called Bike and Chowder, hosted a reception for us before dinner.  One of the members told me that her 85-year-old mother (Esther) who is an athlete, would be meeting us in St. Augustine.  I must remember to look her up.

My roommate for the night was Barb Cassels, a retired elementary PE teacher from NY.  So we talked education for a while.  Tonight I was more exhausted than any day so far on the trip.  But, I did sleep well.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, it has been a few days since my last entry.  Lack of internet access and fatigue are my major excuses.  We left Silver City with a temperature of 40, a threat of rain, and the prospect of climbing to 8228 feet.  On this ride, your mind and body speak volumes.  At the first SAG, a blowing rain and cold wind convinced me that this was the day to catch a ride.  So I rode in the SAG to Emery Pass at 8228.  What an awesome site!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night we stayed in Kiingston, NM, a former thriving silver mining town and the largest city in New Mexico in the 1890s.  At one time it supported 23 saloons, 14 grocery and general stores, a brewery, three newspapers, and an Opera House.  The establishment of the new gold standard and resulting silver panic of 1893 dropped silver prices 90%.  The town dried up almost overnight.  Most of the buildings were either torn down as residents carried the materials with them to other locations or have fallen into disrepair with time.  The Black Canyon Lodge, our residence for the night, was once a garrison for the cavalry and is constructed from the ruins of a casino and saloon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is one of the most charming places I have ever stayed.  There were bedrooms in every nook and cranny, my assignment being in the bunk room, where I almost had to sleep on the top bunk. We enjoyed a delicious turkey dinner, cooked by the owners.  The "parlor" was heated by a wood stove.  But, we were warm and comfortable.