I write this from the Lordsburg library, whose filtering policies are so strict that I can neither answer messages on Facebook or Couchsurfing.org, because “we don’t know what kind of content can be found on sites like that.”
As careful as I always am to make sure it’s in the top pocket of my backpack before leaving every room I sleep in, I had a hard time believing that I’d left my phone charger in Bowie this past Saturday, at the home of the energetic 82-year-old Bill Hoy. I didn’t realize it was gone till I was in San Simon– fifteen miles away. I scoured through all pockets and bags within the backpack to ensure that it wasn’t simply misplaced into one of them, but no luck. Luckily, I do have a backup battery which often comes in handy on long rural stretches; both batteries are nearly dead. I’ve mostly kept the phone off since this past weekend, and thanks to my dad, who sent me a backup charger on Monday, which arrived general delivery to Lordsburg this morning, I’m now charging one of the batteries here at the library before beginning the long trek into Deming in the afternoon heat. The batteries charge very slowly, and I don’t know how much juice I’ll get before making it out the door, but I’ll make it all work out somehow.
It’s 120 miles to Las Cruces, where I’ve been invited in by some Couchsurfing hosts, and I plan to spend some days. Except for Deming, which is almost exactly 60 miles from here in Lordsburg, I’m told there’s really little more through the next 120 miles of valley land. Fortunately, I’m told the land is mostly flat. I hear that I’ll be crossing the continental divide within a couple of days– exciting! There are gas stops every twenty miles or so, which to me means that there is a place for water– since virtually every gas station is accompanied with a small junk food market nowadays. Especially in the heat of the desert, finding water is a most strategic planning exercise for me, as I always need to know where I can get it through rural stretches, and as heavy as water is, I seek to only carry as much as I need till the next stop. I’m a couple of miles from the eastern end of Lordsburg now, and there is no water in my pack. I won’t be filling up till I reach the truck stop on the east end of town, simply to spare myself that extra weight in the bag till then. Every ounce counts!
Though I’ll seek shelter in Deming (perhaps at a church), it’s not likely that I’ll be receiving any other shelter between here and the next 120 miles to Las Cruces. It’s pretty remote, and I’ll have to search around for the best and safest camping spots. I like the idea of building a fire to sleep next to at night, which keeps unwelcome animals, some of the large, away from the food in my backpack. That said, besides the sudden, unpredictable popping of some burning branches which throws flaming embers at my tent, a fire could quickly attract the wrong sort of human attention, so I have to be very careful and strategic about how and where I camp for the night. If no fire, I’ll rely on the boater’s air horn to squawk painfully loudly and shoo off all large, wild dogs, cats, and pigs…
Venturing out and camping in the “unknown” like this often brings a bit of nervousness with it, given that I’ve never been an outdoors man, I’ve never been in this part of the country, and I’ve been unexpectedly well-sheltered for the past weeks, by so many well meaning locals that I’ve met along the way (more on them later). I’ve actually done very little solo camping outside of official campgrounds or other properties– less than ten times this whole trip, I believe… That said, what was once overbearing nervousness is now just a fraction of what once was. I venture out very optimistic and enthusiastic– knowing that I have to be!
Much fun to come!