Last day of rest

It has been great for my body to get some much needed rest and pampering, save for the mountain bike ride yesterday.  The Fargo is cleaned and ready to go, as is the BOB trailer.  I am still searching for a new rear Schwalbe Big Apple tire, but I am sure one will be found soon enough.  My belly is full and my clothes are clean.  Now it is time to move forward and rejoin the trail as I push north to Vancouver. 

All rest is good rest, but when you live your life on the road, rest becomes restless and the need to move becomes stronger than the desire to sit.  I have effectively reached that point and am mentally and phycially ready to start the next leg of the journey. Now it is time to move forward and rejoin the trail as I push north towards Vancouver. This leg will be different in many ways, travelling though high population centers and dealing with cold and rain.  Rain will be a big challenge since the last 84 days of travel saw only 2.5 days of precipitation.  I will have to adjust my riding kit slightly to account for the impending moisture, but nothing to serious needs to change.  I lost a glove the other day, and I need to add some rain pants, but otherwise my trusty gore-tex jacket should suffice.  For this leg of the journey I have gone ultralight, giving up my solo tent in favor of my trusty bivy and tarp.  Time will tell if this is a good move, and it is something I am going to document in detail since shelter choice v. weight is such a big issue when travelling for prolonged periods.

The journey picks up again on Monday, thanks for following along!

San Diego, 3,052 Miles – The Southern Tier

I woke before dawn in a field of wet lush grass, frogs and crickets chirping, sounds of birds doing their spring thing.  It was quite the contrast to the past 84 days of winter that I had spent pedaling across the  southern states of the US.  The day before had been one of those epic pushes, the kind that challenge both the mind and the body.  I left Ocochito early in the morning, hoping beyond hope that the winds had finally died down.  I had the last climb of the southern tier, over 4,000 ft of elevation gain  ahead of me and I did not want to battle both the climb  and the winds at the same time.

As I set out I stopped at the last gas station for a while, bought two snickers bars and one power bar.  Once again I was virtually out of food and decided that with these items and full water bottles I could make the push up the mountain and get to a town with a real grocery store.  The climb started out on I-8 and was, in my mind a fairly gentle uphill route.  Having persevered through the farm roads of Texas hill country, with their mind boggling grades and then the 8,000 foot pass in New Mexico and multiple crossings of the Continental Divide, I felt that I was really prepared for what California had in store for me, at least at this point in the trip.

I was  pleased with myself and the strength and mental endurance that had been built over the long miles of the trip.  I have come to learn that for the most part, the hills and the mountains are a mind game, one played between your head, your heart, and your legs.  I guess all of my traveling has paid off as I slowly and methodically worked off the miles.  After hours of averaging no more than 5 mph, and often going at rates much lower than that, I was treated with a beautiful sight, a sign indicating I had finally reached the elevation of 4,000 feet, the highest point that I would have to overcome before descending to San Diego.

I took a moment to rejoice in my accomplishment, and then pushed off down the grade.  It is always a special feeling when you begin your trip down after a long and difficult climb up.  The road swept into a lovely place called Pine Valley that felt as if I had been transported back to the mountains of the east coast.  The air was moist and the grass was green, the smell of spring was in the air mixed with the smell of wood burning in the nearby homes.  I actually had to stop and add two layers of clothing as I had become so accustomed to the arid dry south west, that the moisture in the air was chilling me to the bone.  I knew I had one small climb left before everything was down hill, but at this point it was pure pleasure.

Camping in civilization would once again become a problem, and since I had already logged more than 50 miles over 8 hours, it was time to begin the search.  I made the final small climb and found an RV campground with a little grassy park out front.  When I can, I always try and ask, so I found the manager and inquired about laying out a bedroll in the park and sleeping for the night.  His response, “what will you do in the middle of the night when you need to go to the bathroom?”.  I thought the answer to this was obvious, but what he really meant was, no you can't stay here, and this is just a lousy excuse for why not.  So, I thanked him and moved on, light quickly fading into dusk and a serious mountain chill in the air.  Luckily, not far from there I found an old trail that led to a grassy field, completely secluded where I could safely camp for the night.  I always love finding these places, the kind where I know I am isolated and can move about freely without fear of raising angst in others.

The next morning I woke to the sound of spring birds and the knowledge that I was almost finished with the Southern Tier, and beautiful trek across the southern states of the US.  I had about 40 miles of downhill grade that would take me into San Diego and the ending point, Dog Beach and the Pacific Ocean.  The first 20 miles went incredibly fast, mostly due to the grade of the back country roads and the  portion of I-8 that I was allowed to ride on.  The remaining 20 miles were a little slower due to the urban nature of the route.  A quick stop a Starbucks to get some juice, and re-charge my phone and I was off, knowing that the next time I stopped I would be done.  The remaining jewel of the route was the path through the San Diego canyon park, an absolutely gorgeous ride through woods, and creekl and and a perfectly graded bike path.  From there it was just a short couple of miles to the beach.  At one point I ran into two guys on trikes just starting out on the southern tier route, going west to east.  I wished them luck and pushed off, next stop, Dog Beach.

Finishing journeys like this are often surreal, you look back mentally at all that has been accomplished and endured, and somehow it seems as if it was so long ago.  I think that this continues to reinforce the notion to me that all that matters is the ever present now, what you do today, how you live your life now.  I had ridden more than 3,000 miles across the country on bicycle, not having ridden a bike in over 5 years prior to the beginning of this trip.  I never once doubted my ability, my fitness or the mental toughness that would be required to complete such a journey.  To the contrary, I knew that taking things one day at a time and embracing the  kindness of humanity would see me through.

I took the obligatory pictures of me and the bike and the ocean, posted them on the social media sites and then sat down and smiled, breathed slowly, reminded myself that this is what life is all about. It is all about the memories that we create by living a  life of joy, happiness, peace and most importantly, LOVE.

Vancouver, here I come :-)



Day 76 - Wilcox to Tucson (Vale)

I spent the night camped in a little league ball field, the second time in my odyssey that I have needed to resort to such tactics.  When I arrived in Wilcox last night, I immediately made my way to the local park, but it was much to well lit and populated for any form of camping.  After dark, the people left, and I found myself in a far off field next to Interstate 10.  Other than the constant drone of the trucks and the full moon, it was pretty pleasant night.

I woke early, even earlier than normal, to make sure I was out of such a public place before people started moving around.  The night before I had stopped at a Safeway, the first one I have seen since the east coast, to pick up bananas.  What I love about Safeway's is they have Starbucks in them.  I knew that they opened early, so after packing up I headed over and sat down for a great cup of coffee and free WiFi.  Before you know it I had met this really talented artist and found myself talking about his art, my travels and great places in the US to call home. He and his wife were headed back out west after doing the east coast art scene but they had made the decision to relocate to xxxx North Carolina, one of my favorite places on the east coast.

Due to my lounging in Safeway for way to long I was now off to a late start.  It was 80 miles from Wilcox to Tucson and I had hoped to make it to the Colossal Cave state park which lies about 17 miles out of the city.  However, the winds have really been coming up, and I had just done to big days, so I was really unsure of how far I would make it once I hit the road.  Luckily as I started out, the winds were reasonably light and my legs had enough energy to push me forward at a decent clip, although not as good as yesterday morning. 

The terrain seemed to largely be a climbing elevation, which also contributed to slightly slower speeds.  None the less, I found myself making good progress as I approached Texas Canyon, a location I had been warned about as being one of my last big climbs.  By then I was feeling pretty good and just moving along at a good clip, even up hill.  I must say the lighter load in the BoB is making a big difference in my climbing speeds.  Then, well, the dreaded feeling that only occurs with a rapidly deflating tire.  Here I was, half way up the climb, 18 wheelers wizzing by, and really no place other than the shoulder to do a repair. 

I slowed to a stop and watched the last of the arir flow out of the rear tire -- why oh why is it always the rear tire?  I must say right now, that I have been so lucky compared to others that I have met.  This is only my 4th flat over 2500 miles, and that is really impressive.  People ask me all the time about my huge tires and if they are really efficient, to which I say, hey they really roll when inflated.  Scientifically, well, I have no real idea and speculate to a certain extent that smaller tires would be more efficient, and I might even try them out when I get to the west coast, but you can't argue with the flat resistance of the Schwalbe Big Apples.

I managed to repair the flat, put in another tube, got back on the bike and it immediately flatted again.  Needless to say, I was questioning my luck, but I figured out that it was a bad inner tube that I put in and not another flat.  However, I still had to repeat the whole process of changing out the rear tire, and re-inflating the monster 2.3 Big Apples, something that is really quite a chore with my little pump.

Later that morning, I approached a lone rider going down the highway just short of Benson. I slowly worked my way up to them and met Leann, a woman from Orlando who was riding across the country at an amazing pace.  We stopped and had lunch together where I learned that she had left Orlando barely a month ago, averaging over 100 miles a day for a good portion of the trip.  She had started with a BOB trailer, but quickly dumped it in favor of an ultra light setup. She managed by her lightweight setup by eating out all the time and staying in hotels the majority of the nights.  This allowed her to carry the bare minimum on her carbon fiber, dual suspension mountain bike.  We finished the day by riding to the Tucson area and she really could cruise up those hills.  On the downhills, the Fargo and Bob, quickly pulled ahead of her, but I was never able to keep up with her on the clims.  It made me long for an even lighter setup, so the wheels in my head continue to turn as to how I can go ever lighter without sacrificing my ability to camp and cook.

I managed to roll off the highway at the Vale exit and worked my way another 7 miles to the Colossal Cave state park. I got there after five with the gates closed for a special event.  I don't mind ignoring closed signs when I have to but an event with people made me skittish, so as tired and spent as I was, I went in search of a place to camp.  Not 200 yards outside of the park entrance was an elevated creek wash that I quickly rolled the bike into and found a nice rocky/sandy oasis in a desert of pointed, prickly, stingy things.  It turned out to be an perfect place to watch the moon rise up over the canyon, back lighting the giant Saguaro cactus and listen to the coyotes howel at the brightly lit sky.

Day 74 - Silver City to I-10

I was somewhat sad to say goodbye to Silver City and William, my host, this morning as I had grown fond of the town and the great people I met.  It is a very eclectic town with something for everyone, including a travelling vagabond like myself.  To William and Glenn and my new friend Jim, thanks for making my stay so enjoyable.

The ride into Silver City as you may recall was an amazing downhill experience.  Well, as you can imagine, around here what goes down then goes up, so the climb out of Silver was exhausting.  The vast majority of the first 28 miles were up hill, occasionally offering up a descent, which only meant you lost valuable altitude which would then need to be regained.  This went on exactly as William had described, so I was at least mentally ready for it.  The most challenging point was crossing the Continental Divide, again, and then realizing there was still one more brutal climb up and out of this range.

Finally, at almost exactly mile 28, I crested the the top and was greeted with a sweeping panoramic view of the valley below, with the ever-present New Mexico mountains off in the distance, ringing the valley almost as if they were sentinels guarding the way.  The treat now, 15 glorious downhill miles to the intersection of 70, just a couple of miles outside of Lordsburg.  It was one of those down hills that was sloped just perfectly, enough of an angle to give you a good 22 or so mph, but not so steep that you had to spend half your time on the brakes.  It allowed me to just cruise down the mountainside and into the valley, all the while taking in the breathtaking scenery.

From there it was up and into Lordsburg and a stop for more bananas.  In my quest to find the cheapest form of snacks, I have discovered that out here bananas are incredibly cheap, often in the .49 cents/lb range making them one of my favorite go to foods.  They don't do so well in the heat, so it is important to get a few ripe ones and a few green ones in hopes that they don't go bad before you eat them. 

Lordsburg gave me the impression of a fairly dusty and dry southwestern town, not at all what I had been used to up in the Gila area.  I got my bananas, found a McDonald's to re-charge at, and then hopped on I-10 with all the hustle and bustle of a world I left behind a couple of weeks ago.  It made me realize just how special it was to pedal those crazy graded farm roads up and over the mountain passes, nary a car or truck to be seen, just beautiful mother nature patiently waiting for you to soak it all in.

I managed to make it to one of the rest stops and have set up camp here with a number of other weary travellers.  There is even one of those monster RV's out in the lot, sides extended, satellite dish pointed up.  I see these huge RV's all over the place and I just can't figure them out, but each to their own, and if it makes them happy then more power to them.  At the price of gas, which I see across the street is over $4/gallon, I sure don't know how they do it?

Tomorrow I push on to Tuscon, hoping to get in a good 60-70 miles before the wind kicks up.  It is a constant issue now as the spring winds are in full force, and unfortunately, they blow West or South West every day.  The odds of me getting a tail wind are zip!

Lastly, I had some time in Silver to research other cyclists that are out on the trail, some simply seeking adventure, others searching for meaning, some doing both.  There are two pretty amazing women that are cycling the ancient Silk Road, starting in Istanbul and working their way to India.  It is a fantastic journey, with a great story and they have some amazing pictures, so be sure and check them out here, and if possible, donate a few dollars to their 'Scurvy' fund.  I just love that!

Day 59 - Sierra Blanca to El Paso

Finally I was greeted with the sight of a never ending decent, at least to my eyes, that is what it seemed to be.  Leaving the RV park where I had camped, the first few miles out of Sierra Blanca were a slow and steady uphill.  I knew from my maps that everything dropped down to El Paso, so I patiently awaited the cresting of the ridge.  Finally, there before my eyes, was the long drop along I10 down into the valley that was sure to be nice and flat.

Those days are really a treat because you get so many miles in without any effort.  Unfortunately their is often a price to be paid, some sort of wicked karma played upon you by the Gods.  When I reached the valley floor, the route deviates from the highway into 18 miles of some of the most inhospitable terrain I have seen.  Dry, dry, and drier, the dust permeates your lips, lungs and body.  This stretch of land works its way closer to the Rio Grande and the border between the US and Mexico.  Border Patrol agents and the lone goat farmer were all I would see on this desolate stretch of road.  As I wound my way further along, it became apparent that the locals knew how to farm this land, something that for the life of me I could not figure out how.  The dirt, grey and rocky stretched for miles, but off in the distance you could see the swirling dust cloud thrown up from the big tractors plowing the land.

Soon it became apparent what the plan was, they had figured out how to create canals, dams, and resevoirs, all from the Rio Grande.  With an intricate system of flood gates they could control what fields got irrigated and when.  I must assume that their is some overarching authority that places a method on this madness, but who knows.  Slowly the miles rolled by and I would find huge patches of land that were bright green, a stark contrast to that which surrounded them.

I was now approaching the 60 mile mark for the day, and not a camp spot in sight.  My attempts to communicate with locals was lost on them, my lousy Spanish and their lousy English were no match for one another.  Dusk settled in and still I pounded the pedals, darkness soon to set in.  I went to switch on my blinky lights, only to find out my batteries were dead.  Then, my headlight, dead as well.  My emergency strobe strapped to the back of BOB, well, not quite dead but close enough. 

I used my phone as a light to pull out my trusty headlamp, thank goodness for Petzl, those things just work and work.  As darkness set in I was now pedaling in complete black on winding country roads, confident as always that a spot would be found, not allowing doubt to creep into my mind.  I had never been failed and I knew tonight would not be the first time.  Still, a spot sure would be nice, I had not eaten in quite some time, and save the adrenalin rushing through my legs, I was all but dead. Shortly before sunset I had begun to notice that Pecan farms were all around, some stretching away from the road as far as you could see.  These farms made for a very intense sunset as the sun dipped down into their leafless branches, casting a very eery glow along the ground. 

As I searched for a spot, it was not lost on me that I was pedaling by these massive farms.  The problem, they were almost always surrounded by one of these min canals, making entry into them impossible.  Finally, after 78 miles I found a farm that stretched off into the distance, no fence, no canal, and only two remote houses near them.  That was it, I pulled over, shut off my light and walked the bike back into the middle of the trees.  Collapsing in exhaustion, I now had to find a way to eat witout fire, and sleep with no tent.  Right now I don't have my bivy, so it was going to be a night under the stars.  As for dinner, well a can of Sardines, corn tortillas and fresh brocolli would have to do.  Needless to say, it was quite the day, but the glow of El Paso was right there, Texas was soon to be finished and New Mexico up on the plate.

Day 57 - Observatory to Van Horn

The ride off the top of the Davis Mountains and the McDonald observatory was fast, and winding.  Wicked downhill made breaking necessary to keep my speed under 35 mph, a speed that is about the max for a fulluy loaded BOB trailer.  The sweeping turns and straight downhill plunged me down 8 miles in record time, with only brief, and often painful uphill sections to battle.

As I exited the mountains and came out onto the plains I had sweeping views of the distance, a far cry from yesterday's near zero visibility from the snow storms.  As I took a break on a little turnout I saw the welcome sign of another biker working his way up a hill, magically appearing from below.  He was shortly followed by his girlfriend and we spent a few moments chatting and comparing notes.  They were on their way up to the Observatory and I am sure they received the same wonderful hospitality from Dave and Debbie that I did.

Speaking of Dave and Debbie, these folks are what makes this trip and Warmshowers such a great experience.  They put me up in their house for two days, fed me and took me on tours of the surrounding area.  On top of that, since they are at a strategic spot on the Southern tier route, they have amazing stories of peddlers that have made their way up the mountain only to find a warm and comfortable place to stay.  Thanks guys, I really appreciated your hospitality.

Shortly after getting back on the road, and about 2 miles from getting on I10, I ran into another group of cyclists.  This group was made up of a father and his two sons, with mom 'sagging' the trip for them.  I would guess the boys were in their early teens and all I could think of was what a wonderful experience for this family and for those boys.  To peddle 3300 miles across the country with your dad is really something special.  I thoroughly enjoyed chatting with them and can only hope that my efforts to convince my kids to come out and join me on one of the legs of my trip will be met with success.

Much is made of this stretch of road because Kent is really not much of a stop, with pretty disgusting camping conditions behind the old Mercantile, which is now closed.  I was on a mission to blow by Kent, so I only stopped for a bit of rest and a snack and then it was on to the interstate.  Here you need to go about 19 miles on I10 before you can get off and ride on a frontage road.  Personally, I found the interstate a joy to ride on.  The shoulder is quite large with a big rumble strip separating you from traffic, but more importantly, it is smooth asphalt.  Wow, what a joy to ride on something so smooth, you really feel like your speed increases  by a couple of mph.  I made great time and the views of the plains and the distant mountains are pretty spectacular.

The biggest issue with this stretch is camping, so I opted to wait for the frontage road and camp a few miles outside of Van Horn.  I found a bit of dirt road and clear sand along the barbed wire fence and after 65 miles plopped myself down in the dirt and just chilled until dark.  As the sun set over the mountains, the sky lit up in brilliant reds, oranges and blues and made for a really sweet little place to watch the transition from day to night.  I really do love that time right after the sun goes down and its counterpart, right before it comes up.  There is just something really very peaceful about that time of day and it is so conducive to sitting, meditating and reflecting on your day and how good life is out on the trail.

Day 55 - Alpine to McDonald Observatory

I had a great stay in Alpine but was ready to hit the road especially with the forecast for 60 mph winds on Sunday.  I woke early and hit the road right at day break. The ride to the observatory is almost exactly 40 miles from Alpine, so it was a very comfortable distance.  The first 8 miles out of Alpine are dead flat with sweeping views of the plains on the left and right and the Davis mountain range in front of you. There was no doubt that the flats were ending and the mountains were coming.  The elevation change of the entire day was about 2200 feet with the first 30 miles increasing around 1000 feet and the last 5 miles, the remaining 1200.

As I rolled out of the flats you enter a magnificent ride through the canyons leading to Fort Davis.  I have to say, this stretch of 15 miles or so was the prettiest stretch of my trip, surpassing the route along the Guadelope river as my favorite ride to date.  The climbs were gentle, interspersed with rolling hills and some flats. I actually came across the first body of water that I had seen since the Pecos river, a spring fed stream/pond that ran for a half or mile along the road.  Normally one would not even notice such an occurrence, but riding in the desert, the lack of water is on your mind at all times.

As you exit the canyon you come upon another set of rolling plains, once again, the Davis mountains in the distance with glimpses of the McDonald Observatory telescopes peaking in between the mountain peaks.  Fort Davis was a very quaint little town, with the most amazing little grocery store in a long while.  It was at odds with the normal Texas small town market, instead of shelves lined with junk food this market had nice organic items, things with real nutritional value.  It was a welcome place to shop, and I took advantage to pick up a new type of breakfast oats and some potato gnocchi to spice up a dinner or two.  I am definitely looking forward to those two meals.

The girl scouts were out in full swing, running their yearly cookie sale, which I felt a great need to support.  I talked to the girls and their parents about the fundraising efforts for Childhood Obesity and they are a great willing audience.  After some question and answers about my trip, I rooted through my change supply and managed to pull together enough coins to part with a box of peanut butter cookies, my all time Girl Scout fave.  Later in the day I managed to consume half of the box in one sitting, but as you will see I earned them.

Leaving Fort Davis it is a mere 10 miles to the observatory, but for those of you that have done the math, you already realize that the bulk of the elevation gain occurs in a very small distance, in other words, straight up.  The last 5 miles up the mountain were just brutal, and I was once again grateful to AJ and the Peddlers bike shop in Austin for convincing me to add a very low granny gear to the setup.  Without it I would have been walking, which I don't have an issue with, but still, I would prefer to peddle if at all possible.  Thankfully their was a little picnic area about 2 miles from the top and I was able to take a break without looking like a total wimp, eat some trail mix and prepare myself for the final assault on the climb.  The views here were simply spectacular as you looked back out to the south east and the area just covered.

My host, John, works for the observatory, so after arriving and resting up a bit, I got a wonderful sunset tour of the two main telescopes.  The view at sunset was just unreal, and something not to be forgotten soon.  I will post pictures of it later, but they just won't do it justice.  From the top of the mountain and the catwalk that goes around the telescope, you have an amazing 360 degree view, where you can see over 100 miles away. It was a breathtaking scene as the sun set off in the west back lighting the original telescope that was endowed to the university all those years ago and is still in operation today.

The forecast for high winds means I will rest on Sunday and then make the final 3 day push out of Texas and  into New Mexico and Arizona. 

Side-Note

Two things I just wanted to point out.  First, is that while I am up to day 47, my actual bike time is right around 33 days, which puts me about half way across the Southern Tier.  The other days were down time due to the arctic blast that hit Texas and the few days of repairs in Austin to the bike.

Second, most, if not all, of the Daily Trail posts are from my Windows 7 phone via email to the website.  For whatever reason the website system does not translate things correctly and you get words that run together.  I do apologize for this, and have tried to find a way around it, but it is something on the Squarespace end.  This happened last year with my Nokia, so I know it is not on the phone end but on the translation from email to post.  So, please forgive the spacing and any undue typos/grammar mistakes that may be thrown in from time to time.

I hope you enjoy reading and following along.