Southern Tier, Post 13
Day 14, Post 13: Today was the most spectacular ride of the entire trip so far, and that's saying a lot, given how beautiful the American southwest is. I started in Silver City, NM, and climbed almost 5000 feet over Emory Pass. I have done other big passes on my bike, most notably Carson and Wolf Creek passes in the Sierra and the Rockies. But those passes were on better grades and more trafficked roads. Emory Pass, in contrast, is incredibly windy, extraordinarily steep, and sparsely trafficked. And stunning. Although it's a climb that challenge any takers, its a thrilling ride, especially on the downhill side. Given the steep descent and constant curves, one gets to feeling pretty sporty. And that is a welcome relief - and a reward - given how hard it is to get to the top.
I learned over lunch in San Lorenzo what I am allergic to. It's Juniper, and it's a common affliction here at this time of year (well, earlier and earlier - this year it's been bad since January). A local pointed out a tree loaded with berry flowers and pollen, and as I cycled on, I could see how much Juniper there is. It's a very common tree, and there's no escaping its pollen.
Every day I seem to race the sun to complete my ride. Today I finished in Hillsboro, a charming town with few amenities that doesn't seem to have added a building since the 1940's. There are no billboards, no fast food restaurants and no gas marts. The only restaurant in town closes at 3 pm. Imagine my puzzlement - I expected a place to eat or a grocery, because it was almost warm enough to camp but I needed food. So I ended up at the only B&B (The Enchanted Villa - a traditional and large adobe home) where I was rescued by a very nice proprietor who agreed to cook me dinner as well as breakfast for a very modest price. So I am once again able to renew myself. I wonder what adventures lie ahead? Tomorrow I head to Las Cruces.
Check out my road cycling activity on Garmin Connect.
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1609113694
Aaron and Kimmy, westbound Southern Tier cyclists I met on the way up the pass.
A view from the top. Given that the Mexican border is probably less than 100 miles from here, you can get a sense of the elevation by the snow.
Marker on the pass.
Several shots of the landscape nearby.
Southern Tier, Post 12
Day 13, Post 12: Silver City is 45 miles NE of Lordsburg, NM. It's an attractive historic tourist town and ranching center that sits at the base of the Gila National Forest. The forest's terrain ranges from rugged mountains and deep canyons to mesas and semi-desert. Due to the extremely rugged terrain, the area is largely unspoiled. Lordsburg is at a lower elevation, and on the western side of the Continental Divide, while Silver City sits on the eastern side. Interestingly, parts of the Gila National Forest flow into the Gila River watershed that feeds the small towns and cotton fields of northeastern Arizona. On the other side of the divide (which meanders) it flows east. Maybe in a few days I'll understand better what the uses of the water are on that side of the watershed. Ranching for sure, and to feed the cities and industries of Las Cruces and Truth or Consequences, but I wonder what other agricultural uses it is put to. Did you know that 69% of the world's freshwater is committed to agriculture? Kind of makes one wonder about the "wisdom" of relaxing clean water standards. This is an economic as much as an environmental issue. If we reduce our supplies of usable fresh water, the livelihoods of people in rural areas become threatened.
I didn't sleep so well last night - I seem to be allergic to some kind of pollen that is ubiquitous right now in eastern Arizona and western New Mexico (something is blooming), and taking a benedryl at about 3 am didn't put me back to sleep; quite the contrary. So I was tired when I got out of bed. Well hell, I thought, 45 miles isn't so much. I knew I would be doing a lot of climbing but I didn't plan for the wind. It was coming out of west when I left Lordsburg and as the day progressed moved more to the north. It was strong - probably 20 miles an hour, and it was unrelenting. Mainly the road to Silver City heads northeast, with a few sections going straight east and more heading due north. The land is wide open, and there are few ways to find shelter from the elements, so wind, dust and sun are constant companions. Except for the long uphill climbs (maybe 15 miles straight out of the gate), I was fine heading east with a strong wind to my back. But going north the crosswind was almost unbearable. Many times I was blown off the road. I learned to lean into the wind but when I relaxed - even for a second - the wind would catch me and force me off the road again. Because it was unrelenting it was exhausting. Frankly, this was the hardest day of biking I can ever remember.
Although I am carrying camping equipment and have every intention of camping, I am finding it hard to time out my days so I can with set up camp before I lose light at 6:30 or so in the evening. Also, the combination of intense wind and cold desert nights dampens my enthusiasm. But the biggest factor is that the hotels are so cheap in this section of the south. Right now I'm sitting on a king bed in a warm room with a great shower for which I paid $42.47.
I may have figured out how to send pictures inside these posts. However, if the pics don't come through look for a second email.
Check out my road cycling activity on Garmin Connect.
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1607238971
More to come,
Michael
Southern Tier, Posts 9-11
Days 9-12, Posts 9-11: On my way to Tucson to visit my cousin Karen. Had a great visit and hospitality from a cousin (once removed?) in Phoenix. Rode into Phoenix yesterday from Wickenburg, about 69 miles to the NW. All is good - rain is long gone and the sun is intense. One thing about Phoenix that I knew already from experience but had forgotten - it is the most car dependent place I've ever been - and it may also be the worst city for biking in the US. Puts LA to shame -- maybe it's the unrelenting 3-4 lane roads with no bike lanes, nor sidewalks for that matter... in any case it's taking me a long time to get out of here today... but I am now in the southern outskirts....
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I think I'm now sitting in the only restaurant that isn't fast food in Coolidge, AZ, an old agricultural town that is also the site of the Casa Grande Ruins National Monument. Predictably the restaurant is Mexican (which I like and have been eating regularly). Unfortunately, they don't serve alcohol, which normally doesn't bother me but on a cycling trip, ...OMG, that requires a great personal sacrifice. Or deep and patient acceptance, at least.
Somehow I got here after realizing about 10 miles south of Chandler that my rear tire had suddenly developed several serious aneurisms, as in scary looking bulges. Ironically I had already stopped at an REI in Tempe because I was thinking it might be a good idea to swap out my back tire - with no knowledge of how seriously right I was - only to learn they had little inventory because they were in the process of moving their store. So I decided I would get a new tire in Tucson instead. Bad choice. I considered turning back but navigating Phoenix again was definitely not appealing, so instead I decided to continue on and count on good luck. After all the tire was holding even though it looked scary. And so far so good - I made it this far, but after checking out the tire again after I stopped for the day - it would be a miracle to make it another 70 miles. And there are no bike shops nearby.
But there is a Walmart about a mile away. In the morning I will see if they stock 700cc x 35 tires - it seems unlikely, but anything is possible. Even at Walmart. If not, I'm not at all sure what my plan B will be... but I can assure you there will be one, even if I don't know what it is until after it happens...
Check out my road cycling activity on Garmin Connect.
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1600396277
Day 10, Post 9: So here's how Plan B worked. Walmart stocks tubes, but not tires, at least in Coolidge, AZ. So I was up shit creek, so to speak. And as once before in recent memory, a Good Samaritan came my rescue (shit creek always requires divine intervention, I suspect). The first time I was saved was last summer when my derailleur blew out about 70 miles out of Pittsburgh. My host in Pittsburgh was Kittie Verdolini, and she kindly drove 70 miles to retrieve me and my bike, and then delivered us both to an REI, where a great mechanic replaced my failed derailleur within 30 minutes. Today I was saved my by my host in Tucson, my cousin Karen MacCluskey, who drove 70 miles to pick me up (what is it about me, 70 miles and bike disasters?) Karen then kindly drove me to an REI in Tucson. I had new tires in about an hour (it took awhile to decide which pair was best for my purposes). For those of you who don't know, REI stands for Recreational Equipment Inc, a national chain for outdoor adventure gear. I go to REI when I can because I am a member - which means I get a 10% dividend beck per annum on purchases.
So I am now sitting in Karen's lovely apartment in Tucson, chilling after sitting in a hot tub. Karen is working right now, but when she returns we'll go out for a meal. Tomorrow Karen will drive me to Safford, AZ because she has business there (a resourceful musician, Karen does property insurance assessments as a day job). So by this time tomorrow, I will be back on the Southern Tier cycling route, about 2 days ride from the New Mexico border.
It's probably a good thing I had an unplanned day off from cycling. When I woke up this morning, my legs were letting me know they really needed a rest. And I'm noticing other tell tale signs – I've been starved all day, even though I'm eating (which makes me think I need to restore carbs) and I've been kinda lazy. In fact, I took a relaxing soak in an outdoor hot tub (a perk at Karen's complex). Boy, did that feel good! ...Quite the place to be at this time of year.
By the way, I didn't have a chance to mention how great it was to see my cousin Andrew (once removed or second, I don't know which - it's all relative anyway 🙃). He's got a really interesting job at ASU working with foreign students. It's fascinating how our current national trends are negatively affecting foreign students who chose to study here. Our numbers of foreign students are going down with a lot of foreign talent choosing to go to Canada, Australia and England instead. An unintended consequence is that we lose out on foreign talent for our own STEM based workforce for up to 3 years after a student graduates. We need to be careful - in higher education, "America First" might well make us "America Third or Fourth" (or last).
Look for a pic in another email. I'll try to get a selfie with me and Karen (who looks a lot like how I remember my Grandma Ruth). Pretty women, those MacCluskey's!
Day 11, Post 10: I woke up to a beautiful day in Tucson. Yesterday was uncharacteristically cloudy and windy. Today the air was calm, the sky was blue and the Tucson sun made its gentle warmth known immediately upon stepping out of the shade. Waking late after a fabulous dinner and late evening in downtown Tucson, my cousin Karen and I gathered together our belongings, and I hoisted my bike (with it's beautiful new tires) into her van. We set off for Safford, AZ, where Karen was going to drop me off (back on the ACA "Southern Tier" trail) and head to a home nearby to conduct a home insurance assessment. We set off in a whirlwind of chatter. I get teased for being a talker, but I don't think I can compete with my cousin Karen. I checked the news on my phone while Karen drove. OMG, "Obama wiretapped Trump Tower"! Well... you can imagine how much fun we had with this blatantly diversionary headline. We made up new headlines-- "Putin's semon found on Hillary's dress!" "Schumer secretly uses Mike Pences AOL account to send out Mike Pence's confidential emails!" Before we knew it we had driven around Mount Graham, which as it turns out, is a peak in the Pinalenos Range.
Curious about what we were looking at, we checked Wikipedia. These mountains are a "sky island" range that is typical of ranges isolated by desert valleys. The desert areas between the mountains prevent flora and fauna from traveling to or from nearby ecosystems. As a result, the mountain ecosystems are isolated, and distinct sub-species can develop. For example, The Mount Graham red squirrel is an isolated population of red squirrels and probably it's own sub-species. Safford, Arizona is one of two nearest towns to the Pinalenos.
I have been here for several hours, and have seen no squirrels. Maybe tomorrow....
Day 12, Post 11: I left Safford, AZ this morning at about 8 o'clock and cycled (mainly uphill) for for about 35 miles before stopping for lunch in a wonderfully funky town called Duncan. It's only about 7 miles from the New Mexico border, so I was in that lovely state soon after. I then cycled another 47 miles to the southeast, combating an increasingly intense southerly wind. It was cloudy and cool all day. I arrived in Lordsburg, NM just as the sun was setting, with the southerly wind now blowing at about 15 miles an hour, which would have pitching a tent quite tricky. So I found a motel on the outskirts of town for which I paid a cycling rate of $35. The towns on the Southern Tier route treat cyclists well, because I'm sure we help out economically. My room is clean and the hotel manager is wonderfully weird, so I have no complaints. I know I'll sleep well tonight.
Seems that Lordsburg has several interesting historical features. With a current population of just above 3000, Lordsburg opened the first municipal airport in the state of New Mexico. In 1927, Lordsburg was one of the stops on Charles Lindbergh's transcontinental "Spirit of Saint Louis" air tour. The other fact is not as positive - Lordsburg held as many as 1,500 Japanese Americans in a Japanese American-internment camp operated by the U.S. Army during World War II. On July 27, 1942, shortly after the Lordsburg Internment Camp was opened, Private First Class Clarence Burleson, a sentry at the facility, allegedly shot two Japanese American internees under questionable circumstances. One of the victims, Hirota Isomura, apparently died instantly. The other, Toshiro Kobata, died before dawn. After a military investigation and court-martial, Burleson was found to have lawfully killed the two men.
Check out my road cycling activity on Garmin Connect.
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1605849566
As usual, I'll send a second post with pics. I know they don't always go through (cell service can be dicey), but I'll do my best. Tonight I may send several batches of photos - I got a lot of good shots today....
More to come,
Michael
Southern Tier, Posts 1-8
The following posts were all written on the Southern Tier cycling route from San Diego, CA to Jacksonville, FL.
Southern Tier Cycling Tour, 2017
The famous Adventure Cycling Association (ACA) "Southern Tier Route" begins in San Diego and passes through Arizona and New Mexico along the US/Mexican border, across west Texas into Austin, then above Houston into Louisiana, across the coast of Mississippi, Alabama and the Florida Panhandle, and then east to Saint Augustine, FL. The route is approximately 2700 miles long. I expected the trip to take 70 to 80 days. Instead of St Augustine, I ended the tour in Jacksonville, where I took a train back to my home in New York City. The trip took 54 days.
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Day 0, Post 1, The Pacific Ocean is behind me. Photo courtesy of my wonderful host, John Tessmer. Tomorrow I begin riding the "Southern Tier" from San Diego to St Augustine, FL. Spent the afternoon restoring my bike after shipping it out here. Have a broken clasp on one of my Ortleib Panniers; otherwise a very smooth start!
Day 1, Post 2, This morning I biked down to Dog Beach on the far western end of San Diego where the San Diego river meets the ocean. This is the starting point for the "Southern Tier" route. From here there's only one direction to go on the route - east. And that's what I did. Tonight I'm in Alpine, California; a small touristy town in the mountains just east of San Diego. It's lovely and surprisingly chilly. I took a motel because there's nothing east of here for probably 40 or 50 miles and I was losing sunlight. I'm sure it will get warmer as I get out of the mountains. Not sure how far I'll get tomorrow, but no doubt it will be further than today. Today involved a lot of climbing, and I'm not in the shape I was a few months ago when I finished my last trip. Hopefully in a few days I'll have my cycling legs back. One last thing worth mentioning – it's extraordinarily green here. One would not know this is a desert, and one would not know that historically the San Diego area is extremely water stressed. But California has been having one hell of a rainy winter, and although the intensity of the rain is another attribute of climate change, it's still a welcome relief.
Day 2, Post 3, After a good nights sleep in a motel bed with temperatures outside dipping to high 30's, l left Alpine, Ca on a flawless sunshiny day to find myself climbing 4770 feet, mostly on old scenic highway 80. Damn! I am still getting my cycling legs back. The worst is over, though - tomorrow is almost all downhill and/or flat. Hope I can up my miles. Came into Jacumba, Ca about 3:30 with the nearest next choice for lodging well over 20 miles to the east. Since the sun sets at 5:30ish my days are short. Jacumba is right on the border - as close as I'll get until El Paso. I found a lodge with a sulphuric fed hot springs pool - and for $25 I was able to set my tent up in the backyard next to the pool. It's warmer here.... Then I soaked in the hot springs, showered and after a few beers and food will probably sleep deeply. The border fence sure looks like a wall - do we really need another one? It's kind of a WTF question.... do Americans even know that a fence was constructed while Bush was President? It works except for the tunnels underneath. Maybe Trump needs to build a basement along the border, not a wall?
Day 3, Post 4, You may recall that I slept in my tent last night. Well, it got pretty cold. In fact, this morning at breakfast I overheard a local saying that it hit 24° at his place. That would explain the ice on my tent from condensation, and my frozen biking shorts that I had hung out to dry after sitting in the hot springs. But the desert sun is as warming in its appearance as it is cold in its absence so I was almost ice free for packing an hour after sunrise. Love the desert - it creates extremes that are life threatening but quite pleasant at the same time. And then I was off. To my chagrin, I had to climb again after I left Jacumba Springs. Yet, once I reached the final peak after about an hour of climbing (it felt worse than it was) I had pleasant downhill ride that lasted for at least 20 miles. About 15 of those miles were on Interstate 8 - a section of freeway that one can cycle on legally because there's no other way through the pass out of the mountains into the valley. The shoulder was very wide and the road was about a 6% grade down the hill. Frankly, after all that climbing, it was well worth enduring freeway traffic on a wide shoulder to bike 15 miles in about a half an hour. At lunch I talked to Canadian Air Force pilots who were training/exercising at the local Naval Air Force facility in El Centro. Well I get it - it's not the time of year to be a flyer in Canada.... I saw some fabulous flying as I headed east into the Imperial Valley, where I ended up for the night at Brawley.
Check out my road cycling activity on Garmin Connect: https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1591818544
Day 4, Post 5, There were no choices for either food or accommodation for over 80 miles today. Fortunately I had a long descent and a back wind. And that was a good thing, because I almost stayed over in Brawley since I can feel a cold coming on... I can't tell it's status right now, which might mean it passed even as I was pushing myself. I'll know when I wake up tomorrow... tonight I'm in Blythe, not far from the Arizona border. Lots of dune buggies around here. And enormous RV's. And a few Confederate flags. I'll let you draw the conclusions... I'm beat! Imagine I'll sleep well...
Day 5, Post 6, Odd things can happen on a bike ride. Yesterday toward the end of a long ride when I was pretty exhausted, I pulled off the road to ...well, give some fluids back to the earth. I found a telephone pole and leaned my bike against it. When I began to leave I realized I had parked in some deep clay-like mud. A lot of it, apparently, even though it was disguised to look dry. As I pushed my bike onto the road the wheels ground to a halt. Mud was in the fenders and oozing around the caliper breaks. I pushed harder, thinking the mud would drop off if I could get the wheels to turn. My logic worked to a point. I hopped on the bike and because I was losing sunlight fast I rode on in spite of a sense of heaviness and the sound of my wheels rubbing against ... something. If it was mud it would drop off as it dried, I reasoned. Which it did a little as I biked on, helped by an occasional kick at my front and back fenders as I rode. But I couldn't shake the sense of weight. The mud was off the fenders as far as I could see. I finally got to my destination, Blythe, a town situated in a pretty agricultural valley in SE California about 7 miles from the Colorado River and Arizona. There I found no fewer than 3 motels boasting $35 rooms and one at $40. Because of it's proximity to a restaurant I chose the $40 one. I had biked 86 miles and I didn't think I manage more than walk across the street to eat. But I wanted to take care of what was making my bike heavy... I asked the motel owner if I could use his hose. I said mud, and he said, "Oh yea, and here's a paint stick." I looked at him quizzically. "You have to dig it out. The hose won't be enough." Well, he was right. For about 30 minutes I alternated between hosing and scraping under my fenders. The right side, the left side, front tire, back tire. I couldn't believe the mud. It might as well have been cement. But finally the wheels recovered their easy spin. I lifted the bike. I had shed five pounds of weight at least.
This morning called for rain. By the late afternoon it was 80% probability for about an hour in the late afternoon. I thought about staying in Blythe. But Quartzsite in Arizona beckoned, at only 22 miles on the other side of a mountain range. I decided to go for it, thinking I could beat the rain. I started climbing. It was about 10 am. It started to rain, ahead of schedule. The wind starting blowing out of the southwest. I got to Quartzsite. Pretty town, I imagine, when it's dry, which is probably 363 days a year. But not today. It's evening and still raining. But this is not a complaint. I found another inexpensive motel room, my laundry is now clean and my feet are warm again and I'm thinking about how much I love Americana. There's an RV Park here I would have gone to, had I not been so wet (and cold) and in need of drying out. But the Stagecoach Inn is worth all of its $60. There is a restaurant attached that serves chicken fried steak as it's fancy dish (with mashed potatoes and corn), and beers (for a couple of bucks).
Last month my friend Carolyn and I both read "The Art of Travel" by Alain de Botton. One chapter was on the traveling addiction of Edward Hopper and his love for simple Americana eateries and motels. As I read I had an insight. I didn't need to feel ashamed of my heretofore inexplicable attraction to home-spun restaurants, middle century motels and RV Parks. It's not poor taste that leads me to appreciate this stuff so much. I am touched by nature's beauty and humankind's beautiful, funky and banal attempts to address our endless eternal struggle to make life livable, if not better. So I make no apologies. I like what I see around me, especially when I haven't seen it before. I would like to believe that underneath all the pain of the deteriorating quality of life in rural America (and its probably ineffective current scream for attention in our national political drama) is a quiet and eternal core of kindness, dignity and ingenuity. It's obvious that rural America is in decline, and will have to reinvent itself eventually in a new image. But first her inhabitants will have to realize that a "great" past won't return, that there won't be an "again" if there ever was one in the first place. For that's how life works. No matter how fertile our imaginings about the past might be, genuine reinvention is always about something new. And it rarely is comforting, especially in the beginning. But as a good Buddhist would say, "the only way out is through." And in the meantime, let's love all our all too human fragility.
Day 6, Post 7, In Wickenburg, AZ, about 50 miles out of Phoenix. Long day and I have little time to write tonight. I'm well, tired and enjoying myself. And really enjoying the Arizona countryside. And the culture, in an Edward Hopper kind of way. Funky, quaint and lots of snowbirds...
Just stopped in Harcouver, AZ at a bar and grill and RV Park for lunch. I'm eating a cheese quesadilla because I used the bathroom and there are signs all over saying no business, no bathroom. And I met the owner on the way in. Not a guy to mess with.
Day 8, Post 8: On my way to Tucson to visit my cousin Karen. Had a great visit and hospitality from a cousin (once removed?) in Phoenix. Rode into Phoenix yesterday from Wickenburg, about 69 miles to the NW. All is good - rain is long gone and the sun is intense. One thing about Phoenix that I knew already from experience but had forgotten - it is the most car dependent place I've ever been - and it may also be the worst city for biking in the US. Puts LA to shame -- maybe it's the unrelenting 3-4 lane roads with no bike lanes, nor sidewalks for that matter... in any case it's taking me a long time to get out of here today... but I am now in the southern outskirts....
More to come,
Michael