Road Trip Ride #11: Lower Doña Anas

Wednesday evening we spent the night at a rest stop on Interstate 10 just west of the Arizona/New Mexico border.  Before going to sleep, I sent a text message to our dear friend, the most wonderful Ligia; In LC by noon; be ready to ride”  Thursday morning we were on the road before 8 am, heading to Las Cruces, New Mexico.  As we drove, we passed by two towns of particular memory from my US tour in 2010; Bowie and Lordsburg.  Making good time, we were in Las Cruces before noon, on the bikes with Ligia by about 1pm.

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Ligia took us to a set of local trails in the lower Dona Anas.  Several good little grunting climbs, many technical spots, plenty of easy-rolling desert single-track plus a few smooth, swoopy, roller-coaster descents to keep the smiles wide.  Though we rode just ninety minutes, it felt wonderful to be back in the desert, riding with friends.  May not sound like much, but that’s really all it takes to make this boy happy.  Oh ya, and hot springs.
Back at the van, Ligia suggested we drive north about an hour to Truth or Consequences.  There we would find the Riverbend Hot Springs.  As we drove, however, we would encounter a Border Patrol Checkpoint.  One of the many such check-points on roads leading from Mexico where typically surly Border Agents are fighting the war on drugs and the war on “illegals.”  Ligia, however, in her ever-so charming way, mentioned this as we were about two miles away.  Though not really a big deal, these checkpoints can be a bit of a pain.  I being the only non-American, driving a van with out-of-state plates belonging to someone else, quickly demanded that Reilly retrieve my passport from the safe-place I’d put it nearly three weeks ago.  “I don’t remember where you put it, he replies.”
“Back there, on the shelf, under my jeans” I yell back at a half-assedly searching Reilly.
“Oh, just tell them you’re an American” Ligia counsels.
“No chance in hell!”  There was no way I was about to lie to the border goons.  Turns out, it was all a moot point; pulling up to the fellow in green, he asked if we were all Americans.  “All but me,” I respond, “I’m Canadian.”
“Do you have your I.D. with you, sir?” was the reply.
“I sure do” reaching for my wallet but thinking to myself “Damn you two, I knew I needed my passport!”  Turns out, I didn’t.  As I reached for my driver’s license, the Border Agent just waved me on. “Okay, have a nice day.”  Forty minutes later the three of us were soaking in 100+ degree Fahrenheit pools of water on the side of the river, looking out over the hills as the sun went down, the border goof a distant memory.
Soaked and relaxed, we drove back to Las Cruces where we met up with Ligia’s boyfriend, Jeff and were soon dining on scrumptious Mexican food.  Bicycles, friends, food and hot springs; you really couldn’t ask for more from the penultimate day of a truly remarkable mountain-bike road trip.
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Ligia showin’ us boys the what’s what.