Day Thirty-Six: Taos - Angel Fire

The morning was full of all kinds of confusion. First, we both woke without alarms, assuming that we could sleep in ‘til 9 or so to finally get a full night’s sleep, but of course, our wired brains were up by 7:30. At some point, Slater made his way into the common room to wait for me to wake up and emerge from my dorm. When I did, he had walked back to his room to take a quick shower, so I assumed he was still asleep. I grabbed a mug of coffee and sat in a quiet corner at a chess table, put my feet up, and began to read. He came out shortly after and sat down across the room, but just far enough to where we couldn’t see one another, so we sat in silence for nearly an hour, unaware that we were both in the same room. Then a crazy woman emerged from the women’s dorm, ranting to me about some man who was talking too loudly on his phone. It wasn’t until that conversation that Slater appeared, asking how long I’d been up, and we went through the process of figuring out how we hadn’t seen each other.

Anyways, pointless story, but it was ridiculous. At 11 o’clock, we headed over to Sol Foods, a small natural foods market just down the road. Slater got an interesting-tasting Mate Latte (made with Yerba Mate rather than espresso), and we had homemade breakfast burritos while procrastinating. Towards end of our time at the shop, we were approached by a woman named Lisa, a short-statured woman with tanned skin and boxy clothing who was quick to start a conversation. She was inspiring to say the least: a very spiritual woman, but not in the loopy, crazy-talk kind of way; she told us her life story from growing up in Trinidad and Tobago, to becoming a lawyer in the States, to working with Native American tribes in New Mexico. Lisa was highly in touch with “the Gods above” and encouraged us to take our time, listen closely to where our hearts are guiding us, and to fully experience and delve into the cultures and people we encounter through the course of our lives. She left us feeling refreshed and energized for the second half of our trip, and it wasn’t surprising to us that we had encountered her in Taos, a very spiritual and historical city.

We left Sol Foods and grabbed our bikes from the hostel, but not before engaging in an awkwardly drawn-out conversation with Crazy Lady, who, by the way, told us that our ride that day would be “nothing”, whereas every other advice-giver had told us it would be our toughest yet. We rode from Arroyo Seco into Taos, only about ten miles, and stopped at a bike shop that Crazy Lady recommended. They warned us about our climb: it was almost thirty miles straight uphill, and there was no shoulder. Generally when I say ‘no shoulder’, I am referring to less than a foot or six inches to the right side of the white line, but in this case, there was quite literally NO shoulder. The white line was bordered by receding pavement that crumbled onto a steep drop-off, and given that the highway had sharp turns with no visibility, we were advised by the shop’s employees not to ride in the driving lane. They gave us the card for a local adventure company called Really Fun Adventures (hilarious name) and told us they frequently drive cyclists up the mountain to reach mountain biking trails.

Slate called the adventure company and talked to Jeff, an wonderfully helpful man and cycling enthusiast. He was quick to come to our aid by canceling an appointment and driving over to us with his partner, Jennie, then hauling our bikes onto the rack on the back of his crossover car. They were a young couple with a zest for adventure, though they needed a bit of a break from the outdoors after coming back from a four-day rafting trip. Jeff and Jennie drove us to the summit of the mountain and stopped by a grocery store along the way so that we could get groceries for the night, since we were about to be truly roughin’ it in the woods. They dropped us off at a trailhead, where they helped us pack up and roll our bikes into the forested area, and wished us well with smiles and friendly waves goodbye.

We camped just far enough from the trailhead to where we hoped that passing cars couldn’t spot us, but we could spot them. With our Mace nearby and our trash far away (fearful of lions and tigers and bears), we spent hours reading books, which we haven’t done in years because of stupid college textbooks, and eating lunchables that were way too small to be considered “dinner”. At times, cars would pull up to the trailhead and shine their lights in our direction, which scared the living hell out of me (and Slater, too, but he put on a tough face), but thankfully, we were able to sleep without being disturbed by hikers or critters or anything else lurking in the dark.