I suppose it felt like just an average pass in the mountains, but the symbolic nature of this one was nice. I was at the "inverse" of the ocean. The highest point that divides watersheds from the Pacific Ocean and Atlantic Ocean.

I was nowhere near halfway done and I was certainly much farther on the west side of the country, but it felt good knowing there would be a lot more downhill over the next week.

And look at that snow! :)

Of course, I stopped for awhile to take it all in and snap photos.

Hardly any vehicles were on Highway 12 in this very remote section of Catron County. That made it easy to place the camera on the ground, set the timer and pose right in the middle of the highway.

Top and Middle Photos: Highway 12 eastbound from the divide.

Bottom Photo: Myself happily posing on the highway. All my difficult rides on Colorado passes paid off, for while this part of the divide gave me a good workout, it simply did not compare to Colorado's many formidable passes I have encountered.

The pass had no name. Unbelievable! What a way to show disrespect for a high point! By now, I had become used to the fact that many highway passes in California, Arizona and New Mexico do not have names. That is pretty much unheard of in my state, where passes are revered and named for the imposing points they are.

By the way, I have a web site dedicated to the Continental Divide, with pages of each particular spot along the divide I have visited. I included this spot here: Highway 12 New Mexico.

Photos Above: Two views of the scenery in Horse Springs, New Mexico.

Out of curiosity, I knocked on the door, opened it and a man was behind the counter. He was the owner, but he was not open at the moment, and I apparently scared him because he did not hear me sitting outside and there was no sound of a car.

The owner quickly warmed up to me as I explained I was bicycling through as part of going across the country. He then gave me a brief tour, explaining the history of some of the few remaining structures near the highway, including his living quarters as a kid. The friendly man grew up in Horse Springs, which now has just nine year-round residents, but back in the settlement days there were close to 500. His grandfather built the Catholic church building. I really appreciated his friendliness out there in the middle of nowhere, and I regret not capturing a picture of him.

It was an unnerving segment of the ride. Windburn was sometimes a factor on the journey, with the affect of hours of wind hitting my face leaving me depleted and with a sunburn effect. It was only in the low 50's and the windchill was definitely a factor. I just kept peddling and peddling ... one horizon to another ... which turned into considerable rolling hills ... with a lot more uphill than downhill! I reviewed the map on the bike and could see there was some kind of mountainous region just before reaching Datil, but my God, will this ever end?

Arrival in Datil, New Mexico!

There is a gas station, cafe, restaurant and motel all in one at the junction of highways 12 and 60, and while I generally had a rush of joy and relief upon reaching destinations, I was *really happy* to be in Datil.

I dined in the restaurant that had a very western ambiance with fireplaces, wall trophies and items like tin mugs and antiques on shelves. I had a large green chili cheeseburger, french fries and I washed it down with Pacifico Mexican beer. It was first beer on the ride! I generally didn't drink beer because of dehydration effects, but this was a special moment. My run-in with those crosswinds on the Plains of San Agustin were over and I was going to celebrate! I finished the meal by ordering a large hunk of German chocolate cake for dessert.

Bottom Photo: A sign about Datil, New Mexico inside the store entrance.

Photos Above: Dave and I drove west to Pie Town, New Mexico, a place that intrigued us because of its name. We were hoping something might be open to learn more or maybe just buy some pies! Unfortunately, everything was closed on this Friday evening, but we managed to get some pictures of us at a storefront. I was again astonished to sit in the passenger seat of Dave's truck and drive at 70 miles per hour! That is really fast considering I was very accustomed to riding in the range of 12-15 miles per hour daily on the bike.

Notice how tired I looked as I sipped on a bottle of Gatorade. I didn't even need to act tired for the picture!

I was so trashed because of windburn effects. While Dave dined at the cafe, I was in the motel room and remember calling Tracey in Florida.

"I just want to send you some good New Mexico energy your way. I'm slowly making it east." The cell reception broke up frequently, and I walked into the bathroom and leaned against a wall which improved reception. The next thing I remember, I became light-headed and sleepy as I stood up with the phone to my ear. I somehow ended the call with Tracey and laid down ... and I stayed there for the remainder of the night!

I had become very accustomed to everyday aches, soreness and general tiredness of riding, but the exposure to chilly crosswinds was just too much. I slept like a baby that night!