The ride today joined two others as best of the tour. Here’s
why.
This morning we were facing a flat route with a 10 mph
tailwind. The first half of the ride was to be on the berm of I-10 and the
second half on SR 418, a quiet road relegated to secondary status because it
runs parallel to I-10. We didn’t mind the minimal traffic and the good
pavement.
With the time change we decided to start out at 7:00am
so that we would leave the parking lot in daylight. We will be doing the same
for weeks until we reach the east end of the Central Time Zone. We are leaving
later also because we are no longer fighting the oppressive heat of Southern
California and Arizona.
It was another start with the temperature in the mid
60s. We entered the Interstate immediately instead of riding through town. The
berm was smooth and free of debris. The wind was already cooperating allowing
us to move down the road with little effort. I am not one who calls this bike
riding. If a cyclist were to turn around into the same wind, the pace would
change from 18mpm to 6mph. It makes that much difference to a cyclist. To her
surprise, Susan was at our first stop just before we arrived and we went
through the usual script. While Susan and Sara were busy and I was guarding the
bikes, a passing cyclist decided to stop for some conversation. I am sorry I
didn’t ask his name. Bearded in a soft gray, this affable bloke sported a funny
accent that gave away his origins. At the point of our crossing paths, he had already
ridden 11,000 miles along the North American Continental Divide. And, he was
just miles from finishing his trek at the Mexican border. His bike was build
like a tank with things hanging from every tube. I asked him how he handles
water while riding in the desert. He counted out five water bottle cages, a
couple of them clamped to unique places. This subject of the Queen claimed that
he rode 100 miles a day on dirt. I was amazed, but saying nothing, I was
dubious. He was heading in our direction and I suggested that if my daughter
were prompt, we might catch up to him. He assured me that I would not. OK. He
sped off confidently heading for his intended destination.
We moved on from that rest stop and skipped a second
one because we were moving at a 17mph clip. Sara pointed out some visitors
joining us on the berm. A glut of grasshoppers began filling our pathway, not
paying any attention to our presence. These dark green jumpers were as large as
a medjool date, with a thorax resembling an armored car.
Our final rest stop at the Black Oasis was just 14
miles from the hotel. Susan used the freeway and we used the state route
mentioned above. Since the ride was
essentially over, we pulled back the reins and had a pleasant chat. Pulling
into the hotel parking lot as the clock struck 12, it was a great way to end a
great day on the bike.
Tomorrow we ride to Las Cruses for our last leg in New
Mexico. The drivers in this state have been exemplary. We have not had one
incident since we entered the state. I will be keeping my fingers crossed as we
finish up tomorrow. Stay tuned.
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| Crossing the Continental Divide |
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