For the second year in a row, Daniel Zaid and his wife Karla Robles signed up for the annual group depart of the Monumental Loop bikepacking route, known as the DangerBird, held in late October. For the unfamiliar, the Monumental Loop, a figure eight-shaped route composed of the North and South loops with its center in the city of Las Cruces, New Mexico, has been in its 2.0 version for a while. But recently there’s been a new addition, the Monumental Loop 3.0, which this year would have its first DangerBird depart. How does the new iteration of this 365-mile desert bikepacking epic compare? Read on…
In the year 2024 I went from being in the best shape I’d been in, after training for Ruta del Jefe, to then clocking only two or three rides a month during the summer because of work. With the DangerBird fast approaching, logic told me I should go play in the sand in the South Loop, but curiosity won. Having done the North Loop last time, Karla wanted to go for the South Loop. Stubbornly, I signed up for the Monumental Loop 3.0.
Loop 3.0 Overview
In the words of Matt Mason, route and event co-founder and Gravel Cycling Hall of Fame candidate, “[Loop 3.0 is] the next evolution of the Monumental Loop. Parts of 1.0, 2.0, and a bunch of new stuff combine to form the ultimate southern New Mexico tour. It started when I first heard there was an idea to create a new National Monument in Luna County. The four new mountain ranges that may become Mimbres Peaks National Monument were scouted, routed, and included here to create ML 3.0.”
A quick look at the route shows that I’d be out in the desert for a good chunk of the time: going counterclockwise, there’s a 106-mile (170 km) stretch from Hatch to Deming with no food resupply, then another 80 foodless miles (128 km) between Columbus and La Union, all while relying on cattle tanks for water. The distances may not sound like that much, but the terrain varies from hard-packed dirt, to sand, to big ol’ rocks which make for some unrideable sections, making up to 2-3 nights in between towns, depending on my pace. With daily temperatures reaching 90º F (32º C), extra logistics, especially at the warmest hours of the day, would be required.
A big advantage of doing this route during DangerBird is that I’d likely have company. Aid stations at crucial points of the route also would make a bit more manageable to tackle the longest stretches without resupply. Plus, I could make time to attend the Maker’s Market and the New Mexico Bikepacking Summit and meet a bunch of people who are doing awesome things in regards to conservation, advocacy, and bikes!
Day 0
Sadly, we arrived in Las Cruces on Friday afternoon just in time to see everyone at the Maker’s Market packing up. I barely managed to grab a couple of Pedalhomie water bottles before joining a group for lunch. Then we went to the New Mexico Bikepacking Summit, where half my brain was trying to pay attention, and the other half was trying to pack my bike up. I felt jealous of everyone else who looked calm, all packed up and ready to roll. Packing for a bike tour always makes me nervous, no matter how many times I’ve done it over the years (2024 marked 10 years since my first overnighter, holy crap). To add to the nervousness, instead of going for my tried and trusted setup, I opted for putting my new Esker Cycles Lorax to the test. Because I knew how out of shape I was, I aimed for the lightest setup I could while being careful of having enough room for food, water, and staying warm at night. Ah yes, and not forgetting the stuff to keep my new robot gears running.
The usual group depart happens the morning after the Summit, but 3.0’ers were suggested to start that same evening, so sixteen of us rolled out from the plaza and headed for the Doña Ana Mountains, where we rode singletrack at dark until we found a spot to spend the night.
Day 1
I woke up at dawn. Some people were already gone and some left while I ate breakfast and packed. My good friend PJ, who’s been bike touring for a year and a half, decided to take on a little side quest and go for the 3.0 with me, so we synchronized our times with the goal of doing the route together. Unlike me, PJ had been doing hundred-milers on a regular basis over the last months, and was excited about ditching a bunch of gear and being out in the desert with friends. Riding 42 mm tires was gonna present a challenge that PJ was up for. We left camp, and not long after, we caught up with Carlee and Alan, from Colorado. They were doing their own thing, but we ended up riding together at times and camping together over the following nights.
The consequences of not riding long distances for months quickly revealed themselves and I crawled into Hatch just barely holding on to the little group. I was unacclimated to riding under the midday sun and felt my Chihuahuan ancestors looking at me with disdain from above. We got food at Sparky’s, where there were shaded outdoor tables and a sink we used for freshening up. I tackled the paved climb out of Hatch trying to draft PJ’s wheel and not puke the burger I’d just eaten while waving at many riders who were doing the North Loop in the opposite direction. At sunset we camped just before the infamous White Gap ascent began; GPS told me I had done 102 km (63 miles) and 1067 meters (3500 ft) of climbing. I hadn’t done these kinds of numbers since spring. My notes for the ride read, “I shouldn’t have done this lol.”
Day 2
Our morning began with a parade of more riders. It was time for us to tackle White Gap, i.e. walk our bikes for a few hours. We came across a wide variety of setups, everything from full-suspension MTBs to road bikes and full lycra kit. I snapped a photo of someone on a canti Crust Nor’Easter (who’d later post a pic of a snapped downtube) and a local guy with an unrepairable sidewall cut that forced him to walk to the highway and have his wife pick him up. Under the morning sun, everybody looked gorgeous and shining. A little over two hours later, we made it to the top, then walked down the other side till we got to ride again, and we reached the aid station, where we refilled on water and grabbed snacks and fresh drinks. Shoutout to the legends who put this together and stay camped out there just so we can have it a little easier.
From here came a crucial point. I had considered bailing and continuing south to make my way back to Las Cruces, but I was feeling a lot better, and the fact that I had looked all summer forward to this trip, despite being unprepared, made me decide to continue. PJ and I headed west on a hardpack dirt road, where we got into chase mode with the goal of reaching Alan and Carlee, who didn’t linger at the aid station.
The day went by, jumping from one county road to another, and from one cattle tank to another. We got news via messages of other rider’s situations, including my friend Alex who was with the front group: he had ridden the highway to Deming and checked into a hotel after feeling the first symptoms of heat stroke. I felt bummed for him because I knew how excited he was, but I was also glad he chose to take care of himself. By sunset we hadn’t reached Alan and Carlee and I told PJ I didn’t have much more chasing left in me. We heard coyotes in the distance and we stopped so we could listen to them, but then we also heard voices; it just so happened that our friends were setting up camp enough off the road that neither of us could see each other. We caught up after all. After 72 km (45 miles) and 826 meters (2710 ft) of elevation, my ride notes read: “I am beat but feeling a lot better than yesterday.” If only I could feel like today for another four days…
Day 3
My pad had seen better days and too many desert nights. I had to blow it up once or twice every night, but this time I woke up on the ground, probably too tired to notice. Despite my deep sleep, I could tell I was still spent when we got back on the bikes, but the previous day had me feeling optimistic.
Massacre Peak in the distance reminded us we were crossing a territory witness to many battles between colonizers and the N’dee/N’nee/Ndé people (more commonly known as Apaches), as this was a frequent passage to connect further west. This resulted in the creation of a US Army post named Fort Cummings, which we rode by but didn’t make time to visit, because we had our goal set to find a series of petroglyphs Matt had talked about. I realized I couldn’t keep up with yesterday’s pace, and I let PJ know.
Riders ahead of us reported on their situation. Alex was still in Deming, evaluating whether to continue, while the rest of his crew had moved on. Our group reached the last reliable cattle tank before Deming, and it was… slimy. We still filtered and drank it. I’m sure I’ve had dirtier street food.
We reached the petroglyphs site, hiked up a hill, and wandered around based on a heat map. It took a while, but once we found one, they started appearing everywhere. Afterward, we returned to our bikes, and I went to dig a hole in the bushes while the crew got ahead. That moment marked my separation from Carlee and Alan – so long, my friends.
PJ waited for me at the top of a 12-km climb, which took me much longer than usual. It made me realize that, although my body was capable of working three double shifts in a row at the restaurant, it had become unaccustomed to long, back-to-back days on the bike and wasn’t recovering enough.
Meanwhile, Karla reported that she had successfully completed the South Loop and was having the greatest time. She was now driving to retrieve Alex, who had made the safe decision not to continue. I asked her if there was room for one more.
PJ and I made it to Deming and got our money’s worth at the Indian buffet, which I absolutely recommend. The day’s numbers: 52 miles (84 km), 1824 feet (556 meters), and no ride notes. PJ shed even more gear and got pumped for riding into the night to catch the group ahead, and I was glad to not be holding them back anymore. I promised next time I’d take turns pulling, wherever we happen to ride again.
For now, I guess you’ll see me at DangerBird 2025 cuz I got unfinished business… which, by the way, has unofficially moved to November for cooler daytime temperatures. Stay tuned for dates!