California Dreaming

Time to report the first milestone:  one state down.  Today we are in Phoenix, Arizona and California is now nothing but a sweet memory.

THAT'S SOME HILL.  Well the first two days treated us to a climb of 5,124 feet in 39 miles.  That's a climb that my poor legs were not prepared for and it didn't take long for me to find myself in my lowest gear huffing and puffing.  At the top of that hill is the pretty little town of Julian, a busy tourist town famous for, among other things, its pies.  Sorry no pictures.  I was so tired by the time I got there that I didn't have the energy to get my camera out.  Really.  On the way up we biked through lush mountain valleys.  The moment we began our decent we were in the desert.  The ride back down through the mountain switch-backs was one of the most spectacular that I have ever had.  Again, sorry no pictures, the road was too narrow and twisty to stop.

view on the ride up to Julian

          What's the last thing you want to see when making a climb?  A down hill, that's what.
          How's that?  Well, every foot down, is another foot to be re-climbed.  Give me
          straight up please. 

"Now on to the desert we did glide, flying low and flying wide."

THE LOW DESERT.    On the other side of Julian we were below sea level.  As far as the eye could see is brown, sand and scrub.  Brown that is except for the miracle of irrigation.  Then it's green, green, green to the horizon.  In Westmorland it was green to the horizon.  The day we rode through they were harvesting carrots, lots and lots of carrots, truckloads of carrots, iceberg lettuce and broccoli.  I'll have a new appreciation when I reach for a bunch in the grocery store after seeing the workers out in the field in the hot sun bent over harvesting for what was no doubt the day.  And yet they had the extra energy and spirit to wave and shout us a hello as we rode by.  I couldn't help but recognize how privileged I am. 

Beauty in its starkness

Sandy, Baby

 

 



Pickin' in the fields

What do you do in the desert for fun?  How about ride around in dune buggies (Imperial Sand Dunes Recreation Area), film movies (ever hear of a little flick called "Star Wars"?  Does the name Tatooine ring a bell?), and drop some bombs (U.S. Naval Reservation Aerial Gunnery Range).

Boom!

THE HIGH DESERT.  After climbing to about 2,000 feet the completion of the landscape changes dramatically.  Barren sand and scrub gives way to greener plants and cactus.  This is Ponderosa country and I expect to see Hoss and Little Joe appear around the corner at any moment.

Little Joe, where are you?

seems as if the folks out here have a sense of humor

so don't the folks in Hope, Arizona

What's the first week of riding been like?  Well, after the initial climb I'm thinking that perhaps a little conditioning before the ride might have been a good idea after all. I think I was a little too cavalier after my last ride.  My legs hurt, I mean hurt.  I have a little saddle soreness, but really not as much as I expected.  I'm dealing with a few minor issues, a bee sting and sunburn.  Dehydration is a major concern.  On one day's ride of 50 miles there was no place to replenish water.  I foolishly only filled two of my three bottles and ran dry in the almost 80 degree temperature.  Near the end of the ride the effects of dehydration were setting in, weakness and headache.  I haven't made that mistake again.  Still, it's amazing to see the body at work.  My hunger is full on.  All local horses have been warned to stay clear.  Already I can feel my mussels growing stronger (through the pain).  We have several 50 + mile days behind us and I suspect it won't be long before I am posting a milestone of my first century ride (100 miles that is).

With, perhaps, a tenth of the ride under my belt there is sure to be much more adventure to come.  Stay tuned.

Well, the road trip is over and it will soon be time to put shoe to pedal.

Just shy of 4,000 miles added to the odometer of the old Chevy Express.  We are in Vista, California visiting with our long-time and good, and good-time friends Jack and Chris Kilby and their daughter, Fiona.  How did we get here? Sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale . . . . .

We skipped out of town (the town of Hampden, Maine that is) on January 29th.  What better way to begin a trip than a two day visit with each of my brother Ed and sister-in law Linda and brother Paul and sister-in-law Gail, all in New Jersey?  By hitting the lotto for a couple mill, that's what!   But we didn't so I suppose the visits were the next best thing.  We made an early celebration of Ed's 70th birthday.  Ed is a little sensitive about this milestone, his 70th birthday, so I won't spend much time dwelling on the fact that he is 70, just the mention that we celebrated his 70th birthday.  Having exhausted their patience and having eaten most of their food it was then time to move on.

And move on we did-to Indianapolis, Indiana to pick up the camper we had purchased.  This little baby, a mere 14 feet in length but containing more amenities than our house will now be married to the van for the rest of the trip.



Here's our home-away-from-home at the Continental Divide

Then on to Bay, Missouri to visit our good friend Scott Ruffner. (Notice how many good friends we have?)  Okay, first of all, who names a town in Missouri "Bay"?  Not an ocean or other major body of water to be found.  They should have named it "Hay", maybe a misspelling?  Well, anyway, we visited Scott at the farm he owns there, previously owned by his grandparents.  Prior to our exhausting his patience and food Scott graciously toured us around Bay and neighboring Hermann where his mother lives.  This area was settled by Germans to whom we owe a debt of gratitude on two accounts: coming to our rescue during the Civil War and keeping us well plied with wine through the years.  But seriously,  look up Hermann, Missouri to learn a greatly under appreciated chapter/part of this country's history. 

Man, that's one big hole.  Ever hear of the Grand Canyon?   How does one manage to be an American, advanced in years, and not having visited the Grand Canyon?  Well, we seemed to have  up to this point.  Too bad, but glad to have corrected that now.  Can't describe it in words, can't depict it with photos so I won't try.  See it when you can.  Anyone want to hike rim-to-rim with me?  It's now on my bucket list.

The main reason that I wanted to visit Hoover Dam was so I could make "dam" jokes.  Imagine, they beat me to it.  But I got to tell you, it's one heck of an engineering feat and like the Grand Canyon well worth seeing.
 
But perhaps the crown jewel of our drive was a visit to the world's largest thermometer in Baker, California.  We tore out of town before either of us got a cold; wouldn't want to see the doctor coming with that baby!

So we're here in Vista visiting the Kilbys and having a great old time.  We caught up with the Thompsons (the Thompsons?  See earlier post.)  As kindly as they could, the Kilbys have told us that we have exhausted their patience and finished the last of their food so we're headed out tomorrow to begin our ride.

Oh, yeah, one other thing: I have now corrected a shortcoming of my prior blog.  I have completed the profile information on the sidebar.  You have to dig a little once you click on the bar but well worth it if you are desperate to know more about me.

THIS IS A BLOG-JACK!  You know, a hijack of a blog.  I was going to set up a new blog for my California to Florida trip, but I didn't.  Even thought up a really neat name: "Old Crank".  Get it?  These days it seems that my days contain more "gun-as" than "did-its",  oh well.

So here's the scoop:  Just ignore the Washington to Maine pronouncement on the face page, been there, done that.  If you wish, where it says "Bespoken" on your computer screen you can cross it out and write "Old Crank".  This time out it's a bike ride from San Diego, California (or there abouts) to Saint Augustine, Florida.  And the modis-operndi is a little different too.  On my last ride I left Washington with a fully loaded touring bike, by myself (although it turns out I was far from being by myself) intent on pedaling my way home.  This time I bring baggage of a different sort.  Wait a minute, Bev's coming with me this time, that last statement may not play so well, oops.  Here's how it works:  Bev will ride ahead each day to our appointed end point pulling the camping trailer that we bought in Indiana, I will huff and puff along after her.  I will carry no baggage on the bike other than the bare essentials and arrive each night to a bed rather than setting up a tent.  Hardly seems like any effort now that I think of it.

Bev and I will be accompanied on our journey by our now good friends Joe and Rhonda Thompson.  I met Joe and Rhonda on my last ride and they had already figured out the camping thing.  Never claimed to be that smart you know.  They will do the same with their car and camper.

This will be a very different ride in that regard.  In others I wonder.  If you managed your way through my last blog (just the last post would do I suppose) you understand how impacted I was by the human element.  I have been deeply affected by the presidential election.  Spoken bluntly, I have not been able to get my mind around how anyone could have voted for Donald Trump and I am afraid of what his presidency portends.   I look forward to meeting people across the country and understanding their views to see what I can glean.  I go with as open a mind as I am able and await the result.

We are in Flagstaff, Arizona today.  We will begin back toward Florida some time in the middle of February.

Cheers and Blessings