After crossing the border into New Mexico on December 18, I biked till the sun was starting to set and arrived at a RV camp outside of Vado.

         The next day, I traveled on a frontage road for the Interstate 10 to Las Cruces as my odometer clicked past the 3000-mile mark. On the way, I passed a chap riding a recumbent bike and we stopped to chat for awhile. I stopped for lunch in Las Cruces and then shot some video of myself leaving the town with the mountains in the background. After a long climb out of Las Cruces, I reached a plateau in the late afternoon. There was not a town on the map for miles and I was concerned as to where I would stay for the night. I stopped at a tourist trading post to inquire about accommodation. The storekeeper told me that there was a RV campground about ten miles down the road.

         I continued on the frontage road along the Interstate 10 but it came to a dead end and I was forced to ride back about two miles to get on the main road. By this time, the sun was starting to set and I was forced to ride the next 10 miles on the freeway in the dark. After about an hour, I come to an exit, which looked like it might have a campground. A weather-beaten sign advertised a RV camp but it looked deserted. There was a large building that had been a restaurant with a trailer home beside it. Across the road was another camping trailer behind a locked gate. As I was wondering what to do next, the owner of the campground arrived from the other side of the I-10. They had seen my flashing light exiting the I-10 and had come over to welcome me. They let me set up my tent for free and suggested that I introduce myself to the man living in the trailer that I had seen parked in the campground.

         I knocked on the trailer door and introduced myself to Jim Leatherman. He invited me in for hot chocolate and then gave me dinner. Jim was retired but he kept busy as a gun trader. He had a number of guns in the trailer and was an avid supporter of the right to bear arms. We watched some television before I retired for the night.

In the morning, Jim offered me breakfast and then I packed up to leave, only to discover that I had a flat tire. After I repaired the tire, I headed back onto the side road parallel to the I-10 and made good progress into Deming. I stopped at the K-Mart to buy a new inner tube and then continued the ride, mostly uphill, until I finally reached the rest stop where I was going to spend the night. As I was setting up my camp, a small group gathered around my bike.

         The next day, I crossed the continental divide. The winds were fierce and I passed a sign that read "Beware of Dust Storms" as I rode into the dust. A truck was parked at the side of the rode and a police officer was nearby so I stopped to talk to them. The officer informed me that it was permissible to ride on the Interstate Highway. At Lordsburg, I checked into a motel and then went to a gas station to find a map. Fortunately, I didn't need gas because they had run out. The next day it was another climb out of Lordsburg before reaching the Arizona border.

         That day I set my sights on Bowie, Arizona. I arrived in the dark and started looking for a motel but I was told that there were no motels. There had been motels but they had all gone out of business. Someone suggested that I go to a house that rented rooms to travelers. I arrived at a filthy, decaying place that should have been condemned but it was late and I was tired, so I decided to stay. The shower had holes in the wall, wallboard was falling off, there was mould all over everything and one faucet leaked constantly. I hung my clothes up to dry on a line that was strung across the room and went to bed in one of the bunk beds. In the middle of the night, two guys stumbling around in the room awakened me. They seemed annoyed that I had hung my clothes on the line and that I had brought my bike into the room. The guy who had rented me the room informed me that I could only stay one night! I didn't tell him that I had no desire to stay longer.

         The next morning after packing and having breakfast, I discovered that I had another flat tire. With that repaired, I got back on I-10 and set my goal for Benson, which was about 60 miles through the mountains. In Willcox, I stopped to buy a tire for the rear wheel. It was only then that I discovered the rear wheel on my bike was slightly smaller than the standard size and, because the inner tubes that I had been buying did not fit properly, my tire was going flat all the time. I made the long climb out of Willcox to a pass called the Texas Canyon. From there, it was downhill into Benson. After finding a motel, I phoned my friend in Tucson to tell him I would be there the next day.

         The next day it was another climb out of Benson but once I reached the top, the ride to Tucson was relatively easy. I stopped for lunch and, after examining the map, realized that I was fairly close to the exit for my friend, Gordon's place. We had met on a film project in Toronto and he eventually moved to Tucson where he was living with his sister Jane, and his brother-in-law, Ken. Apparently as I neared their house, Jane, who had been out shopping, had seen me going down the road so she hurried home and warned everybody of my arrival. On December 24 at about 3:30 p.m., I arrived at my friend's house in a suburb of Tucson at the base of the Santa Catalina Mountains. Gordon, Jane and Ken, along with their two dogs, Elroy and Meeco, were waiting in the driveway for me with a cold bottle of beer!

         I had planned on staying in Tucson for about two weeks and then heading down to Mexico. However, I lost my banking card to an ATM and, to my horror, I could not recover it at the bank. I arranged for my bank in Toronto to send me a new banking card but, due to a misunderstanding, this took much longer than anticipated. Ken and Jane very generously let me stay at their place while I waited for my card. The delay allowed for many opportunities to tour the interesting attractions of Tucson and surrounding area.

On the Way to Mexico