May 11th--- Pie Town to the Mouth of Armijo Canyon

The Old Homestead at Thomas Mountain Ranch

     Wyoming left after breakfast, but all I could do was sit around hoping that my resupply package would arrive that day.  While I was waiting another x-country traveller stopped by.  He'd actually spent the night tented at the nearby RV park because he had had no idea that the Toaster House was available to him.  It wasn't until after his breakfast at the Daily Pie that one of the locals informed him of the place, so he'd decided to swing on by.  He was looking for a life-changing experience and in light of that fact he'd decided to trek from Los Angeles to Washington D.C.  Sounded all well and good to me, but the constant road walking on paved surfaces with vehicular traffic whizzing past wasn't very appealing.  If I were him, I'd have settled for a national scenic trail, but he had his reasons for what he was doing.  I wished him luck, when he took off.
     To my elation, my package was delivered at 12:15 and after eating lunch and arranging the remainder of my supplies in my pack, I was off like a shot.  My goal was to catch up to Wyoming, who had about a five-hour head start.  I'd be on dirt roads all day passing through an area that certainly wouldn't qualify as the most scenic in New Mexico.  For many miles it was simply a graded hard-pan strip hemmed in on both sides by barbed-wire strands sporting private property signs.  NO TRESPASSING!  Our cameras are watching you!  Really?  I almost wanted to test that one out.  I couldn't imagine someone laying out the cash to place hidden security cameras along a fenceline in an obscure part of rural New Mexico.
     With nothing to make me pause, I concentrated on churning out miles as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Before I knew it I had arrived at Thomas Mountain Ranch, which was the only house in these parts with a Hikers Welcome sign out front.  John and Anzie had actually passed by in their truck a few miles back and told me to stop by.  Certainly a boon to passing hikers to have a place to fill up on water, but keep an eye out for their curious mule.  No doubt, he'll walk up to check you and the contents of your pack out.  The Thomases are the nicest folk and I had no idea that they actually hosted hikers at their homestead.  While talking to John, I was offered the opportunity to overnight, but had to decline.  It was only mid-afternoon and I had miles to go.  Besides, Anzie, who is battling cancer, was resting after a recent round of chemotherapy, so I really didn't want to disturb her.  However, for any future trekkers, if the timing is right, I'd recommend a sleepover.  John has lived a long, interesting life and can regale you with many fascinating tales.
    Back on the road, I was only focussed on the next water source, the windmill at Corner Well.  Because it's the tallest structure around in this barren land of sage and grass, it can be seen from a considerable distance.  When I arrived, the wheel was spinning fast under the power of a steady westerly wind.  I could here the pumped water gurgling out of the pipe and into the tank.  In the southern section of the CDT, I certainly grew appreciative of these oases.  They wouldn't be here if not for the ranchers, who had built them to provide water for their herds.  For this reason, I was much more tolerant of New Mexican cows than the ones that shat in the streams of Colorado.  Does that make sense?
     That wind I mentioned was not only driving the windmill's pump, but was also bringing in the clouds.  It was already late evening and I wanted to make it past the York Ranch and onto Armijo Canyon Road.  Before the sun disapppeared on the western horizon, it dipped below the level of the looming clouds and lit up the landscape, bathing it in soft yellow light from its golden rays.  When the brilliant colors faded into the deepening grays of dusk, I made my turn towards Armijo Canyon and that's precisely when a spitting rain began.
     I love my Contrail Tarptent, but must admit that one of it's weaknesses is standing up to strong winds, especially in sandy soil.  Well, the two-track I was now on was filled with loose wind-blown sand.  It slowed my pace significantly compared to the hard dirt I'd raced on all day.  However, I knew I'd have to make it to the trees at the mouth of Armijo Canyon to find a suitable tent site.  Continuing in the dark, I noticed a little light coming from the ground off to my right.  I stepped off trail to investigate and found Wyoming going over her maps in her tent.  She was surprised to hear my voice.  I hope I didn't startle her too badly.  Extremely pleased to have finally caught up, I informed her that I'd be camping a bit further up the track, so she should look for me in the morning.
     In the end, I wound up camping close to where the road ends and trail begins.  There was a wooden sign indicating the beginning of national forest land or something like that.  Better yet, there was a juniper that could act as a windbreak and rocks big enough to set on top of my tent stakes to act as anchors.  Wind problem solved.  Eventually bedded down at a few minutes past 10 P.M..  Dog tired, but for a thru-hiker that can only mean one thing--- a very deep sleep.

30 Miles
    
      
    
      

Windmill at Corner Well

Sunset Below Looming Clouds