Days 32 and 33 (And What Days They Were!)

Wow! It has been one interesting ride for the last two days. I'm writing from Twentynine Palms, CA (about 200 miles bicycle ride from my Malibu finish). I'm also writing from a hotel again - unfortunate to have to use so many, but my pace is finally starting to take its toll on me. Let's start with where I last was though: Kingman, AZ.

I had planned to take a side highway to get myself off of the interstate, and checking on google maps, gotten the impression it would be a good ride with low traffic. I was definitely right on the low traffic. Unfortunately, some kinds of patching make for a very shakey ride that does a number on a bikers rear. This road started out as one of those. I hadn't realized it, but it was also part of historic route 66. The traffic was light, and I found myself crossing a flat valley towards a set of mountains... uh oh... So much for flat. Sure enough, my check hadn't been as thorough as it could have been, and I found myself taking the scenic route ("sharp turns, steep grades") through the Black Mountains of Mohave county, AZ. Still, the mountains were more of large hills compared to some earlier ranges I had crossed, and the views were gorgeous at times. I also discovered that I was riding into mining country, with places like "Goldroad mine" and "Silver Creek" popping up, as well as at least one active gold mine - nifty! I knew I had a split to take at a place called Oatman, and figured I would be out of he mountains when I got there. Going around a turn though, I came across a view about like this:



Oatman is apparently a tourism town with a main feature consisting of wild burros who were abandoned by early prospectors. They now wander the streets at will and are protected by the US government. Lots of tourists! After a stop there, I headed out and things soon smoothed out, dropping me to the California border. Western rivers flow a lot more quickly than eastern ones, but also tend to look more like large creeks than what I think of as rivers, so my entrance to California was a bit anticlimactic ("hmmm, I wonder if that was a canal or the Colorado river I just crossed.. am I in Cali yet?")

From Needles, I had a cool evening ride through the desert to Vidal Junction, with a small range of hills, long views and flat, rocky ground being the main things of note, along with loose gravel on the road making for an exciting ride. Vidal Junction was the important site of the day - it represented the last place to get supplies for almost 100 miles of desert. There was supposed to be a restaurant and a gas station, but I discovered that the restaurant had gone out of business. I'd rolled in shortly after sunset, but things were still hopping, as there was both a truck inspection stop and a through-way to a major vacation lake destination.

My initial plan had been to camp out at Vidal Junction for the night, or maybe a bit after it, but with the restaurant gone and the gas station exemplifying the concept of price gouging people who can't buy stuff anywhere else (I hate price gouging), I decided to load up on fluids and push through the night, especially after hearing from a local worker that daytime temperatures were still hitting between 100 and 110, and nighttime temperatures sitting around 80. After putting about 2 gallons of fluids onto the bicycle, I was off. With it being Friday, all of the traffic was headed the opposite direction of myself, and I found that I only had to pull off for cars (I was being paranoid about being hit) once every mile or two, and even less often the later it got. I was also hoping my night ride would let me avoid the winds.

Around 11ish at night, I spotted a different kind of light than car headlights approaching me. AHA! Another bicyclist! Of all the meetings with bikers, I have to say that an 11:00 pm meeting in the dark on California 62 has been the strangest. The cyclist was great though! Her name was Kelly, and she had just started a few weeks ago on her little jaunt... of five years. Yup! She had saved up money, lived cheap and was off to tour the world on bicycle for five years (my crossing the US, in comparison is taking about 1/60 of the time she has allotted for her trip). She was headed to Flagstaff to meet up with a friend for the ride and I was just about the first fellow tourer that she had run across. I think we were both pretty pumped to run across a fellow traveler in such an odd place, and we spent a good 30 minutes or more, standing in the dark along the highway as cars whipped past chatting about our experiences on the road, thoughts, suggestions, advice and life. She even noted that if some other summer I wanted to join her for a bit as she wandered around, that might even be possible (for anybody that thinks I'm nuts for this trip, chew on hers for a bit!) You can follow her adventures over the next few years at http://uparoundthebend.wordpress.com/ Rejuvenated from our chat and in high spirits, I made good time for quite a ways. I was hoping to press through the night and then crash out at Twentynine palms, but that was awfully far.

After a few more miles, I stopped for a refuel break and to check my progress. The area was fairly flat, and I'd been approaching a set of three lights that had sat in place for quite a while which had turned out to be an RV that was up and running. I also saw a few parked semis by my headlight, as well as a railroad crossing and a few large shelters, which I assumed were for loading and unloading. I parked the bicycle under one of the shelters and got out the map, figuring I wouldn't bother anybody as I ate and drank. A few minutes later, a light was headed towards me though - uh oh. The guy who walked up was really friendly, despite my initially concern about bothering somebody. He told me that the bathrooms were open in one camper and that if I wanted he had food and drink in another one. I was confused and asked if I had stumbled upon an unknown store. Nope! I had apparently inadvertently stopped for a break on the site they were setting up to film "The Fast and the Furious 5". They had just started to put stuff in, and there was only the one night guard - Luis - who was the manager's son. I think he was happy for some company given how desolate the area was. So there I was, sitting on the filming location of a movie being offered food and drink - Cool! I was still full up on fluids and food, so I just chatted with Luis for a bit, then sat down to eat my meal before taking off again. Two odd encounters on one night though! Luis also told me that in the case of the high desert, night is when it gets windy, not day (oops!)

Finally, the sky started to lighten and I was feeling pretty tired. I threw out my tent and napped for an hour or two, hoping the headwind I'd been fighting would die down. No real luck with that, but I was a bit rejuvenated, and had about 60 miles to go till more supplies. I hit the road while it was still cool, but things turned into a slog from there, after I made a small mistake. Despite drinking plenty, I was having a tougher and tougher time making any headway, with each push of the pedal becoming a huge effort. I attributed it to the lack of sleep and was starting to get really worried about my attempt to make it to more supplies. Mind, I was in no real danger - there are emergency call boxes every few miles in the desert here, and although traffic was light, I could have waved somebody down for help within 10 or 20 minutes. Still, despite all my fluids I found myself worried about making it on them. Finally, I figured out what was wrong - my body was running on empty from lack of calories. Even with the fluids, I hadn't eaten enough, and when you run out of food in your system, wham - you're going nowhere.

While I had a fair bit of food with me, 60 miles worth was straining it, and I was worried over the combination of hunger, thirst and sleep deprivation. Still, I inched along, with each mile becoming a battle. The fact that I was approaching 200 miles with about 2 hours of sleep didn't help matters, and my body was starting to really complain about the stress on it. Finally, about 10 miles before I was expecting it - A CHEVRON SIGN!!! I could resupply there! Approaching, I experienced heartbreak as I found it was a chevron aviation resupply depot for the airport I was passing, with no convenience store. Needless to say, I was very glad that the last few miles were slightly downhill as I finally rolled into Twentynine palms completely done in. I'd considered pushing a bit outside of town and camping out, as well as shortening my remaining distance to a two day affair, but I was too far gone for that, and there are enough small issues cropping up that I'm having to become more and more careful about pushing my body.

So here I am! I've crossed the last major obstacle (I'm pretty sure I thought that before too and was wrong....) in my path. I have about 200 miles to go until I roll into Malibu, and I am tuckered out. Tonight, I motel again, resting and recovering before beginning the slow, final push to my finish! It's good to be back in civilization! And finally, one of my favorite pictures, and how I felt at the end of the trip today: