Dec. 11, 2012 – Las Cruces, N.M. to Santa Fe, N.M.

After having barreled through west Texas, I was already feeling like it was Mission Accomplished for meeting Lynch in Santa Fe. But I still had 284 miles to go – definitely no sure thing.

I woke up excited to go – I was in the groove after three straight days on the move, and pumped to close out the journey.

The day started with a hike through the early-morning desert air. The I-25 on-ramp was way too busy, so I started the march north on the shoulder in hopes of finding a better spot.

Greg almost gave me a heart attack by pulling up behind me and honking– no one stops on the main highway.

He was only heading to a nearby crossroad, but kindly offered to drive me three miles further to Donna Ana, where he thought I’d have better luck.

Once there, I easily scored a ride with Martin, who was driving his company’s meat truck 70 miles north to Truth and Consequences. I had some nice chats with the cool dude, barring a brief moment of anxiety as we passed through border patrol.

Truth and Consequences is typical of the Southwest: a small settlement with empty, mountainous desert extending forever in every direction. After 10 minutes on the highway shoulder, I was worried I might be there for a while. But Claude soon pulled up to collect me.

The 81-year-old Texan works part-time for Chevrolet, traveling to dealerships across the South to pick up vehicles and drive them back. He was heading home to Amarillo, meaning I had a ride all the way to Albuquerque.

We made as much conversation as possible – Claude spoke very slowly and had massive hearing aids – before he generously drove a few exits past his turnoff to get me in better position for my next ride. It was 1 p.m. when he dumped me, meaning I felt pretty good about making 55 more miles to Santa Fe.

Getting through cities is always tricky – this time, I had to use the wifi in a nearby McDonald’s to make a plan. I’d have to take the city bus as north as possible before walking another mile to set up shop outside the nearby casino.

Once there, J.P. and Roger soon pulled over and motioned me into the back of his pickup, promising to take me all the way. But J.P. stopped again two minutes later – he was worried I’d be cold and made some room for me inside the car.

Both Santa Fe natives were excited I was Canadian. The avid hunters had travelled to northern Alberta and the Yukon for trips, and were planning another one soon.

J.P. fed me information as we climbed up the mountains and into the snow. He took me on a brief tour through town, and left his business card as he dropped me off, telling me to call him anytime.

I was amped – I had made it! Although a bit shocked to be standing in a foot of snow 48 hours after wearing shorts and a t-shirt through San Antonio, I took off to find a payphone and give Lynch a call.