Ten years ago on a cold cold night, the journey ends for two Jasperites

It’s the last day of the year, the last day of A Doorstep Adventure that began back on April 25,^, 2014, when Jake Alleyne and Liam Harrap left Jasper with 100 pound packs and skied, hiked and snowshoed 5407 kilometres on the Great Divide and Continental Divide Trail to Palomas Mexico. They were clean shaven when they walked out their door. 

The journey begins on a road, the Icefields Parkway and ends on a road, New Mexico State Road 11, a road  with just two bends. They’ve climbed 100 mountains, crossed glaciers, walked  across deserts, got lost in the snow, forded the Gila River 205 times, gone hungry, thirsty, drank from sparkling creeks and filthy cattle ponds. They’ve worn out shoes. They’ve met with hospitality and kindness, they’ve depended on people, they’ve hit buffets and gorged themselves when they’ve come off the trail to re-supply, and now there’s just 35 miles left to the Mexican border.

They leave Deming New Mexico just as it’s getting light. A strong wind blows. Cold. Freezing. The road travels through part of the Chihuahuan Desert. The Florida Mountains to the east rising sharp from the flat plain have lenticular cloud over them. So does Tres Hermanas (Three Sisters-Spanish) to the west. Jake and Liam are walking a mighty ramp to the end of the line. 

There is a blimp, a tethered eye-in-the-sky scanning the scrub for signs of lost souls entering the Promised Land. They pass a United States Border Patrol road block. But no one cares when you’re heading in the wrong direction. North of the border is no place for complacency, though. It’s a stark unfriendly land of scrub, heat, cold—even death sometimes. South of the border is poverty and desperation, drug cartels and corruption, and a bullet in the head if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.  

A lady warns of the dangers of crossing into Palomas at night. Anything from being kidnapped to murdered. Some say it’s this way: others, it’s that way. It all depends who you talk to. In any case, the boys have handled more than a few dodgy situations during their travels. And to look at them, you might want to cross the street—just in case.

By late afternoon Liam and Jake reach Columbus, the last place in America on this road. It was here in 1916 that General Pancho Villa the Mexican Revolutionary made a plundering attack against the United States Army. It was the last hostile action by foreign troops against the continental US. Pancho Villa  is a hero in these parts.

The boys are now just three miles north of the border. They pass the sign that says so.  It’s getting dark. They can see the lights of Palomas straight ahead. The sides of the road are littered with dark red, wrinkled ancho peppers that have flown off trucks bringing the crop to the processing plants in Deming. A chili highway announcing Mexico the best way it could. They pick up a couple of souvenirs.

The sign says 2 Miles. It’s like closing in on a mountain summit with less than an hour to go. Then 1 Mile . . . Then the sign says Mexico Border 1/2 Mile. It’s surreal. All those miles, all those months,and they have just a 1/2 mile left. The illuminated fence (before Donald Trump built his) keeping the Mexicans locked in stretches off to the west and the east like lights on a runway.

The boys quicken the pace . . . almost there . . . almost there—THERE! After 252 days, 5407 kilometres (3360 miles) down the spine of North America Jake and Liam have arrived.

The border guards indicate  to put their packs on the table; there are four of them all bundled up against the cold. Little English spoken here, this is one of the least  frequented border crossing. They indicate to Jake to open his pack. “No guns?” They had passed a sign that said anyone bringing a gun into Mexico will go to prison.

It’s New Year’s Eve, no walkers lining up behind them to come into Mexico. The guards are puzzled, they shrug their shoulders, they look Jake and Liam up and down. In broken English: “Where you come?”

“Canada.”

The guards shake their heads, shrug: “Que?” No doubt they’ve heard of Canada but Canada is 5,000 kilometres away and the last place these los vagabundos would have come from.

“Eh?”

“De donde eres?”

The Tower of Babel kicking  in. No one understanding what the other is saying.

“ C-A-N-A-D-A”

“Donde?”

The boys point to the north. Shiver. Trying to indicate that where they are from is cold. Two of the guards stroke their own chins, point to the boys’ beards, give puzzled looks, again shrug their shoulders indicating we haven’t a clue what the two are about.

Jake and Liam  raise their arms above their heads and motion as if they are throwing something a long long way away; then they swing their arms left right left right making like they are walking a long long way.  Finally the penny drops.

“Canada?—C-A-N-A-D-A!”

“Si.”

Like Pancho Villa, Liam and Jake are heroes. The Mexican border guards want selfies with the boys. 

WELCOME TO MEXICO!

It’s Nochevieja but there are no fireworks going off or guns shooting into the sky—not yet anyway for midnight is three hours away and everyone is inside preparing the festive  meal. It’s all very quiet. 

As Jake and Liam walk into town to find a hotel an icy wind  brings the first flecks of snow.

David Harrap // info@thejasperlocal.com