Hachita to Antelope Wells After not sleeping well the night before in a nice hotel bed, I slept really well on a cot in the Hachita Community Center. Go figure. My theory is I had already processed the idea of being done, and was content with the last 45 miles just happening. I was ready to hang with my person and put my bike away for a while. There was one other person staying at the community center that I had seen before on the route, and we had breakfast and chatted about plans after the ride, more riding we’d like to do in the future, etc. He left about 9:30, and I had the place to myself for a while. Jill and I had talked and we agreed to meet at the border about 3:30 so she could do some exploring of her own that morning. I cleaned up a little, and got on the road about 11:45. I took some pictures of Hachita and the last section of gravel I would ride after roughly 2700 miles. In truth I was still a little sad, but mostly ready to just get it done and be with my family. I took a right on the paved highway out town and started counting down mile markers starting at 45. The landscape near Hachita was flat and relatively featureless except for the desert plants unique and interesting to an Oregon boy like myself. The most interesting feature was a large mountain in the distant south that I had been seeing since before Silver City. I wondered if it was in Mexico or the US. I pedaled along, noting is was pretty hot, but I wasn’t uncomfortable due to a slight cooling headwind. I pedaled on, watching the mountain get closer and larger as I went. The miles crawled by, and I took that as a sign I really was ready to be done. I picked up my pace a little, adjusting to my anticipated meeting time at the border. Eventually I drew closer to the mountain, which was definitely still in the US. I learned later it was called big Hatchet Mountain, and I’m thankful it was there, if for no other reason than to give me something to look at in the desert. As I drew even, then passed the mountain on my left, the desert ahead once again turned flat and featureless and my most interesting features began to be the mile markers again. I began making a game out seeing the next mile marker—pedal for 4 minutes, look for the next marker; repeat. Finally, at mile marker 13, a car pulled up beside me, and it was Jill!!! We hadn’t seen each other for real in 6 weeks! She pulled over and stopped and we hugged and laughed and hugged some more. At my request, she had brought me a coke and a Mountain Dew and some Cheetos. I decided I wouldn’t open them for another 13 miles at the border. I did have some ice water and pineapple though. After one more hug, I rolled on, and Jill headed to the border to let the dog out and await my arrival. Seeing Jill gave me a much-needed lift, and I immediately felt better and the miles seemed to roll by a little faster. I decided I would take pictures of the last 10 mile markers as a countdown to the border. This game worked, and before I knew it, I could see the border complex and wall ahead in the distance. I began to get goosebumps as I neared the border, and I searched the distance for Jill’s car. The border was looking closer by the minute, and finally I spotted Jill’s car on the right, directly across from the border sign. I thought back to day 1, when this moment seemed—and was—so far away, both in time and miles. In some ways that day felt like so long ago, but in others it went by so quickly. Back to the present, I slowed as I neared the border and saw Jill and our dog Timber waiting near the border so I pulled over and Jill and I hugged again, and she told me she was very proud of me for finishing the long adventure. It felt great to hear her say that. NOW I opened the coke and Cheetos and they tasted so good! We wandered over to the border sign and took a bunch of pictures and videos to record the end of the trip. Its great, of course to mark the end of the adventure with the cliche border picture, but it sure seemed like a weak gesture to wrap up a 7 week adventure preceded by months of thinking, planning and preparing. My mind was flooded with images and memories of the last 7 weeks, from people I met, new sights seen, hardships endured, family longed for, stars counted and reflections had in perfect solitude—both on and off the bike. I hope I can look at those photos of the border in the future and feel as I do now: that photo reflects so much more than a simple picture of a guy standing by a bike at the border of Mexico. That picture summarizes a life-changing event; a literal snapshot of transformation via bicycle. It was a beautiful ride in so many ways—I loved it and I’ll miss it. EPILOGUE I have been off the trail for a week now. My wife and I road-tripped back home and stopped at a few sites along the way home: saguaro national park outside Tucson, Bryce Canyon, and a few other places to walk the dog. It was wonderful and I enjoyed the company, the ease and being a passenger for the most part. Now I do miss it. I was told (warned) that The Divide will get under your skin and become not just something you did, but a little part of who you are. It’s happened to me: I’m ready to go again—maybe not the Divide specifically, although I would absolutely do it again, but somewhere. On the bike. Free but better. I gathered up a little data from the trip that some may find interesting, and so that I can look back and be reminded of some of the interesting facts about my first long term bikepacking trip. So, read on! Total Miles: 2876 Riding days: 44 Rest “0” days: 5 Short day: 27 miles Long day: 112.7 miles Bears seen: 0 Flat Tires: 0 (new front tire in Salida) Major Mechanicals: 0 Mosquito Bites: 0 Cheeseburgers eaten: 15 Nights in a Tent: 31 Nights in a Hotel: 7 Nights in Bike Lodging: 5 Friends Met I Will Likely Ride With Again: 4