As I approach the next highway, I check my navigation app, and there's a comment about Hatchita, New Mexico, and how they'll let hikers camp in their community center, with electricity and running water.
The car of the person that didn’t want to take me to Hachita.
I could do that.

Or, I could press on to Lordsburg, wherein I have a package waiting, and plan to asses my ankle within the luxury of a hotel room. I have at least 2 more hours of daylight left.

Lordsburg is 30 miles from the highway.

Hatchita is one hitch away.

If all my ankle needs is a little bit of rest, then stopping early would be good for it.
I want to make it to Lordsburg, but I'm also quite miserable.

Let's try to hitch.
Water cache box

1 car passes the right way. Nothing.

5 cars pass the opposite way.

2 cars the right way. Nothing.


At what point do I cut my losses? Let's wait just 5 minutes longer.

And then, 5 minutes creeps into almost all my daylight. Now it's kind of pointless to move on. In a slump, I check the maps app, and I see a comment with a phone number for a Trail angel.

I spend 10 minutes searching for an LTE connection, and send a text, and wait.

10 minutes later, He responds. We'll call him Marion. He's got an emergency, but he'll pick me up first. ETA, 20 minutes.


On the 7.7 mile drive to Hachita, Marion asks me if I'm a dry waller.

Not really.

Good, we already finished that.

What about high tech? Do you know about that stuff? We're having a problem with "the system".


Sure. I'll take a look at it.

I already know I probably can't help. I have no idea what their system is. But maybe it's a DSL modem or something simple.

It turns out to be the proprietary gas pump system they use isn't registering the pumps.

There is absolutely no way I can help with this.

But I try anyway. To no avail.

Still, they appreciate the effort, and I get some Hot Cheetos out of it.

For whatever reason, Marion feels grateful enough to let me stay in one of his guest bedrooms, and then I learn about the real drama of the night.

A woman, we'll call her Janet, is lost in the backcountry. She's slackpacking the CDT, and her support can't get to her, because the road is washed out. It's already dark, and she only has an emergency bivy.

Marion is torn. He doesn't want to go help. But he will.

Fortunately, they call border patrol to go find her, and they volunteer to help. After all, this is the second time they've needed to rescue her. They're totes friends now.

Just another night in Hachita.