Day 18/May 26: Cops, jumping in a Blue Hole, and Santa Rosa

So, there's not a whole lot out there in Eastern New Mexico.  But, I'm beginning to realize (as I get into more density again down south), that's the real beauty of the state.  The Herreras- Alanna and fam-and I decided it would be wiser for me to get to some place for my first day back out, and not be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no water or food.  Not that I couldn't go prepared, but this trip I am trying to be relatively safe.  Anyway, they took me to the way outskirts of town, a place called Moriarty, and I was on my way.  It was maybe 11 thirty and I had about 90 miles to go. 

Again, I made it, on a wish and a prayer, to Santa Rosa, well before dark.  I skipped around this somewhat sad little town trying to figure myself out for groceries and a sleeping place.  It was sad because of the wind, I think, and the drought.  Not because it wasn't great.  It abutts the Santa Rosa Dam, and then there's more water in town, called Blue Hole Lake.

I practically flew across the first sixty miles of ground, most of it on the interstate.  Then I ran up against some wind and kept pushing.  Out of the corner of my eye I notice a highway patrol man flip on his lights and turn around.  He comes up behind me, about twenty yards away.  I stop, turn around, and say, aloud;

"Is this really happening?"

Well, I didn't get a ticket.  But he was firm, and very concerned.  It was like being back in L.A., with him not knowing where and what the actual signs and laws are for bicycling in the state.  I guess you'll find that everywhere.  After I convinced him it was not my sole idea of fun to be riding alongside 18-wheelers and that I had entered by way of a ramp that specifically said, "Motorcyclists, Pedestrians, and Motor-driven cycles prohibited" and one below it that had a bicycle icon, underneath, "Stay on Shoulder," and that he should, please look it up, he backed down.  He took my information and said that come tomorrow, if he found me up there again, he would have to ticket me.  Then he really backed down and started to tell me about his town, that I simply had to jump in the lake.  It was bottomless, it went to nowhere, and would definitely be good for my joints.  Oh, and the campground, it was "very restful and safe."  Was this fellow turning into my grandpa?!  I shook his hand, out there on that windy highway, and faced into it again.

Then I did, I jumped in the lake and went all the way to China.