It is so rare that I get to enjoy a campfire on this trip (it's awfully hard to transport firewood on a bike) so it was a treat to wake up to find a fire already going thanks to early birds Ron and Chris. Once everyone was more or less awake and mobile, Stormy and company invited me to join them in Capitan for breakfast. So we threw my bike in the back of the truck and headed to the Smokey Bear Motel and Restaurant for a hot and filling breakfast and limitless coffee before parting ways.

Yes, Capitan, New Mexico is the birthplace of Smokey Bear (a. k. a. Smokey "the" Bear), who I never knew was an actual bear. Smokey was a bear cub who'd climbed a tree during a forest fire, was rescued by some firefighters, put in the National Zoo in Washington, D. C. for 26 years, and eventually sent back to Capitan to be buried after his death. So I wandered down to the Smokey Bear Historical Park and Museum to take in the nature trail and much Smokey Bear paraphenalia collected from over the decades. After that I headed to Calamity Jane's, a coffee shop on the edge of town where I used their free wi-fi to contact the outside world, something I've had trouble doing lately thanks to the consistent lack of cell phone coverage here in New Mexico.

By the time I got my fill of internet access and fixed YET ANOTHER flat tire (probably the result of that gravelly road I'd ridden to find the campsite the night before) it was already 2:00, so I set my sights for the day pretty low. I'd have plenty of time to ride 25 miles to the campground at Valley of Fires, the lava fields just outside the town of Carrizozo.

Or so I thought. My ride out of Capitan started with a nice slow 6 mile climb into the hills that caused me a bit of concern about making it to camp before dusk, but my efforts were amply rewarded by a spectacular view of the Capitan mountains once I reached the summit. I stopped there to take in the view and reflect on my mixed feelings about New Mexico. New Mexico, I decided, is the Vermont of the southwest. Both states will beguile you with natural beauty, charming gift shops, specialty foods and crafts, and pleasantly eccentric inhabitants. And both states can turn on you without warning and become downright inhospitable, especially if you're foolish enough to try to bike through them in late November. There is always a price to be paid for such a beautiful view, but at that moment, despite the cold, winds, and desolation, I've experienced recently, I felt like I was getting a good deal.

The plunging descent I was treated to afterward certainly didn't hurt either. Another thing about New Mexico, which I contemplated flying downhill for a blissfully long time: nothing is gradual. You climb for miles, then you coast for miles. It's freezing all night, then suddenly warm the second the sun rises. Mountains jut right out of the plains as though they've been dropped into place by God's construction crew.  Even after the road leveled out, I enjoyed just enough of a downhill grade to make great time into Carrizozo.

There I stopped at a pay phone to call my CouchSurfing host in Socorro to let her know I would not be making it there as planned, due to the recent delays I'd experienced, some self-created and some due to circumstances beyond my control. She had kindly invited me to join her and her parents for Thanksgiving dinner in Albuquerque, but I'd need to be in Socorro early the next morning which was not going to happen.

But the prospect of possibly getting together with my friend Mike in Albuquerque more than made up for any disappointment at not having a proper Thanskgiving dinner. Mike is definitely one of my inspirations for this trip. I got to know him when he worked in the coffeeshop I used to frequent, and one day overheard that he was getting people together to hike 4,400 miles from Key West, Florida to the Cape Gaspe peninsula in Quebec. I seriously considered going with them, but I'd just moved in with my boyfriend at the time and started my web design business, so it didn't seem like the best time to take a year off from my life to go traipsing through the wilderness. But I did enjoy vicariously experiencing the trip by maintaining their website for them so people could follow their journey. I called Mike to try to figure out some arrangement to get together, a feat slightly complicated by the fact that a) he and his wife have had two more kids since I saw them last (including one newborn) and b) I was not actually biking through Albuquerque, so would be an hour and a half away. He said he'd consult with his wife, figure out a plan, and get back to me.

There in Carrizozo, it seemed fitting to open the bottle of cherry cider from Carrizozo Orchards that Bella had given me a couple days ago. Ah, crisp refreshing local cider, I thought as I brought the bottle to my lips, but immediately choked on the shockingly thick cough-syrupy sweetness. Perhaps the raspberry cider would taste better? No: almost undrinkable. Notice, I said "almost." Nothing tastes as good as cold sugary beverages on the road so I was not about to waste precious fructose. I stopped into the convenience store and bought a bottle of regular apple Carrizozo cider to dilute the two offensive ciders. I will need to do a little experimentation later to achieve optimal drinkability.

Finally I rode the last few miles to Valley of Fires, where I selected a fine campsite with sweeping views of the black lava fields and set out for a hike along the nature trail at sunset. Along the way, informative placards suggested I look for tarantula burrows along the way, explained the formations called by the Hawaiian name pahoehoe which resembled hardened cake batter, and discussed juniper mistletoe, a yellowish orange parasitic plant that grows on the juniper trees.

On the edge of the nature trail, I sat down to watch the sun set over this foreboding black landscape, miraculously teeming with the silhouettes of hardy desert plants. This experience tipped the balance for me: New Mexico had officially lived up to its state nickname, Land of Enchantment.