Day 48: Redlands to Santa Monica CA (90 mi)

There it is! The ride itself was hot and traffic in L.A. required all my concentration and previous urban riding experience. But the last 20 miles was an all-out sprint, weaving in and out of buses and cars. I got to the pier at dusk, and my host Lisa led me down to the beach so I could dip the front tire in the Pacific.

So... what now? 

The next few days are figured out: tomorrow will be with my uncle who lives in L.A., and Monday will likely be back here at Lisa's in Santa Monica. Then... bike up the coast? There are plenty of hosts, and it's only another few hundred miles to get to the Bay Area. Or, if I'm ready to go home I can take the next Amtrak out of here. I guess I'll figure stuff out as I go along, just like the trip.

Either way, I biked!

Day 47: Redlands CA

Great day here in sunny SoCal. I met up with friends and saw an old favorite middle school teacher. Got the bike checked out, and good thing I did! Apparently the chain was a few bad shifts from breaking... gosh that would suck for the last ride of the trip.

Ready for the final push into L.A. Let's do this, bike!

Day 46: Barstow to Redlands CA (80 mi)

Opted to ride from Barstow to Hesperia. However I totally forgot an important route note: Cajon Pass, my last climb of the trip, is closed to bicycles until 2016 due to a massive construction project. No shoulder with heavy traffic, definitely a cyclist's nightmare. So my would-be-host Theresa actually drove me and the bike the extra 40 miles into Redlands.

Remember how there had been no flat tires since Oklahoma? Yeah, pinch flat today. It was a bad one too and I saw it coming - some massive crack in the shoulder but I couldn't avoid it because of traffic behind me. Thankfully there happened to be a nearby grassy area where I sat and changed tires and tubes in 10 minutes.

So, I'm here in Redlands,  and the coast is beckoning me. But... I think I may take one day here in my old hometown. It's an awkward situation, but there is no rush. The ocean will still be there in two days.

Tonight and tomorrow I am staying with another old friend, Joey. He's going to college but just hasn't left yet (UC schools are on a quarter system and start really late compared to others nationwide). I'll take tomorrow to hang out with him, and bike around to visit old neighbors, old teachers, etc.

I can almost smell the coast!
(not really, it's kind of smoggy here in the valley)

"It's all well and good, this trip of yours. But you ain't done yet son, know that! No, not the ride. You'll be fittin' to reach the coast soon enough I reckon. But this journey, far from over..."

-Jebidiah "Jeb", random guy at an Arco. Or maybe not so random, depends how you look at it

Days 44 and 45: Needles to Barstow CA (160 mi)

Sheesh, that was rough.

Actually, the first 20 miles through the desert wasn't too bad. There was more of a crosswind than a headwind, and decent cloud cover kept things relatively cool. Then the clouds grew darker, the air... heavier.

The worst rain I encountered was yesterday, in the desert. Oh, the irony! Nonstop, five hours straight. At some point I reached a "Route Closed, Road Impassable" sign, and upon checking the map realized I needed to get on I-40 if I wished to continue west. A couple hours into that, I stopped and just walked the bike on the shoulder; it was too dangerous with the amount of rain and low visibility for trucks. I actually stopped at one of those emergency call stations and dialed the operator. I told her I was biking and didn't feel safe, and asked if she had any information on when the weather would clear up (I had sketchy cell service). She asked "Why are you biking on the freeway?", to which I shouted half at her, half at the sky, expletives. Sorry, lady.

Another hour of walking and I reached an exit. I sat, soaked, under the overpass and cried/shrieked at the rain. I was out of energy and food to replace it, and just slumped on the cement incline, contemplating life and its many happenings.

I don't remember how long I spent under that overpass. Eventually the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and I felt the wind shift directions - a gentle tailwind! I got back on the highway and cruised down into the valley, almost no pedaling. The setting sun was gorgeous over the mountain tops. Two hours later I finally reached a gas station and motel. After eating my first ever DQ Blizzard, I passed out on my comfy bed while Fantastic 4 played on AMC.

Today was more of what I had prepared for mentally in the desert: sun and wind. Even though I put on chapstick, my lips still cracked and bled. I tied a handkerchief around my face to help. I looked like a desert marauder. Actually, I look like a grimy teenager on a bike. But I felt like a badass, and that's important for the trip.

So, two days ago I encountered the hottest heat (topped out at 105 in Oatman AZ) and the steepest climb through Sitgreaves Pass. Yesterday was the heaviest rain, and today the strongest headwind yet. Gosh, everything's reaching its max! In my mind it's one last gut-check - the country wants to see if I really want to finish the trip.

The wind set me back significantly and I am still 40 miles from my hosts in Hesperia. I would keep pedaling but I actually don't have enough daylight to complete the ride. They offered to come pick me up... I'm debating that now. To be this close to the end and accept a ride, I just don't know. There's always the option of getting a room for the night and just adding a day to the trip. I'll make a decision soon.

Day 43: Kingman AZ to Needles CA (70 mi)

Made it to The Golden State! This journey isn't over yet, though. Between the coast and me lies 150 miles of desert, and another 100 or so of the L.A. metro area.

I'm predicting the next two days to be  the hardest of the trip. Tomorrow will be 100 miles to Ludlow, about 3/4 of the way through the desert. Between Needles and there is one gas station at mile 40. Sounds ok, right? I've done longer rides with heat, wind, and hills. The difference now is the sheer magnitude of the above three factors. Tomorrow begins with a 2000ft climb over 18 miles. The wind is more intense than ever, so much so that the icon on my weather app is a little gust. Lastly, it's hotttt. Really hot. It's not uncommon for Needles to report daily high temperatures for the U.S., competing with places like Death Valley. Apparently a few years ago the rain was 115 degrees, and evaporated on contact with the ground.

Anyway, today's mileage wasn't bad at only 70 miles. I'll leave at 5 am to beat the heat, and maybe wait out the afternoon sun if I find a shady spot. Maybe even look for a ride...

I find myself frustrated that I'm dealing with such bad riding conditions this late in the trip. "Don't I deserve a break for making it this far?" That's a thought that ran through my head when biking up a steep mountain pass this morning. What a silly notion! It's not as if this terrain owes me anything; it's just a piece of land and I'm trying to get across it: up mountains against the wind and in the heat. In fact, I should be glad the desert is at the end; there's a smart way and a not-so-smart way to do a 100-mile ride, and I'm glad I learned the smart way before hitting the Mojave.

The bike doesn't owe me anything either. No flats since Oklahoma, the brakes work fine, and the shifting is adequate. What a champ. *knock on wood*

The sheriff's department here in Needles directed me to the Set Free Church. Here they graciously fed me and set me up on a couch in the nursery. About 30 other people live here at the church, mostly addicts and ex-convicts. I ate dinner with two guys: Ricardo and Smallz. I only know the spelling of the latter's moniker because it's stitched on a black leather vest he sports. A note: Smallz looks to be 6'5, 300lbs. Both he and Ricardo appear sufficiently menacing, but are really kind and funny. No talk of their pasts, probably best to avoid it around here. It's a given that everyone has had a troubled past. We all sang songs and prayed after dinner. I didn't plan this trip with a religious focus in mind (heck, I didn't plan this trip at all), but the amount of time spent in and around churches may speak for itself.

Tomorrow I go with food and water in my stomach, ATP in my muscles, and faith in my heart.

"Beans, rice, and Jesus Christ!" 

-unknown 

Day 42: Ash Fork to Kingman AZ (110 mi)

Long, hot, and hillier than I expected. I could have shaved an hour off the riding time by going on I-40, but was really tired of the highway.

For the next three nights I have no host. Since I got to Kingman with some sunlight left, I'll ride around and see if a church will put me up. There are three in town, and I bet at least one is open for Bible study on a Sunday night. Tomorrow it's imperative I get enough rest, because the following day will be the toughest ride of the trip - I may just go straight for a motel that night.

"That's a crazy white kid thing to do. If he were a smart black man like me, he'd take a bus to the west coast."

That quote is from Bruce, and was relayed to me by my sister Julia. Bruce is one of the senior-most cooks at AGAVA restaurant back in Ithaca (I used to wash dishes there and Julia is currently a hostess).

Bruce has a point; there have been several points during the trip where being  a young white male has helped in subtle ways like receiving food, shelter, and friends. Of course there's no Bruce pedaling behind me to show this difference, but I have my hunches.

Now more than ever is a time to reflect on what got me this far across the US (and this safely?!) on bike, because I don't think it's just pedaling.

Day 41: Flagstaff to Ash Fork AZ (60 miles)

Easy ride, mostly downhill. I'm beginning to "cash in" some of the feet I climbed the past 2 weeks. That said, there's a substantial uphill tomorrow into Seligman before cruising down into Kingman.

My host tonight (and my last known host until Hesperia CA) is Karen. The house is actually 10 miles north of Ash Fork, but today wasn't high mileage so there's no concern. Karen's a retired NPS ranger who spent 25 years in some of the most wonderful parks in the country. She's familiar with Petrified Forest and El Morro, so those were good points of conversation. Karen has two cute pugs, one sassy cat, and two sassier parrots. For dinner she made a really hearty chicken soup... Mmmm

We've been watching Doctor Who for two hours and Alfi, one of the dogs, is squishing his pug face against me. Life is good!

Day 40: Flagstaff AZ

Really nice day here in Arizona. I actually met an old friend from California, Mahala. She's now a freshman at NAU.  I hadn't really talked to her in more than 4 years, and I wasn't quite sure how I would react to the first familiar face in 6 weeks. I'm pretty sure I ran out of breath just talking and talking to her nonstop, but maybe it's because we were walking and Flagstaff is at 7000 ft. Nonetheless, we had a great time and I was really, really happy to see someone I know.

I got the bike checked out one last time (not too many shops until I reach the greater LA area), and walked around NAU campus as well. I was struck by the city, and may consider applying to the university for next year. Yeah, that much of an effect in only one day!

There's a host tomorrow in Ash Fork,

but after that I'll be winging it until California. 

Painted Desert and Petrified Forest

I considered taking some petrified wood with me (not stealing, Mom; there are free samples), but decided that the last thing I want on my bike right now is a block of silica.

Days 38 and 39: Gallup NM to Flagstaff AZ (215 mi)

Well, those were two back-to-back century rides to cover half the state. Definitely not a ride I would have attempted back at the beginning of the tour. Today had a net 2000 ft climb as well - I feel fit! In fact if I kept with this pace, I would reach the coast in five days. But... it wouldn't be very fun. I think I'll stay here in Flagstaff another day before beginning the last leg of the trip. Gosh this city is so beautiful, in a much different way than Santa Fe. Those two are my favorite cities so far.

Where had I left off...

My host in Gallup was Jami. She is actually from Schoharie NY (woohoo!) and came out to NM to teach 4th grade on the Reservation. It was the most unusual sight to come across her black and yellow license plate. She did a cross-country tour herself, and has a brother my age who is also taking a gap year, and also wants to bike the Pacific coast... needless to say we exchanged contact info.

Biking and staying on tribal land, talking with Native Americans about their experiences, and listening to Jami's stories about working with impoverished kids are all wrapped up in a pretty profound experience. Of course I already knew the Natives have been screwed over since day 1 - everyone does. The land is crummy, the infrastructure is crummy, alcoholism rates are higher than anywhere else - these are notes that everyone jots down in their 11th grade U.S. History course. There's a whole different understanding however that comes with being at the mission church, listening to these peoples' woes, and just nodding my head solemnly. What am I feeling... White guilt? These are issues I didn't think I'd encounter when I set off from upstate NY.

After Gallup was a little over 100 miles into the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Park, where I camped using a free backcountry permit issued by the NPS. For the second time I had the whole park to myself for the night. However being a much more widely-used park than El Morro, Petrified Forest had rangers to talk to in the evening.

Today I got up before the sun rose and actually had to wait 20 minutes at the gate of the park for a ranger to let me out when the place opened. Long climb up to Flagstaff. Music and podcasts took care of it. My hosts tonight are Lori and Trent, both wonderful people.

 Here's a quote from Jami:

"Hmm... my favorite part about being a teacher... that's a hard question! I would say that the long-term payoff is much greater than that of the short-term, you know what I mean? It's just... it's hard to see good all the time when you're dealing with a bunch of noisy kids. Fourth graders are great though, it's the age when their personalities really begin to shine. There's this one boy, his Dad is in jail and his mother abusive, and I had a really hard time getting him out of his shell. But I noticed his math scores were decent, so I recommended him for the gifted program. And every day I would comment on how well he was doing in math, and offer help and everything. Eventually he became one of the best kids in the class - he really excels at math! So yeah, that right there is something I'm proud of. Not pride for me, for him"

Painted Desert and Petrified Forest were really cool - I'll post photos soon.

New Mexico Photos

Santa Fe Farmer's Market

Branch and root art

Cafe in Madrid recycles glass by smashing it and laying it as part of parking lot... I kept my bike away

Highest point of the trip

A humble meal

Sunrise on El Morro Natl Monument

Ride into Gallup

Days 35 thru 37: Albuquerque to Gallup NM (200 mi)

Forgot that I wouldn't have consistent cell service or WiFi availability the past few days, oh well. A little break here and there from tech is relaxing.

Day 35 I left I-40 for some back country roads through pueblos and reservations. In late afternoon I stumbled upon a mission church that offered me food. Food turned into conversation, which turned into an offer for shelter - that night was spent in a community center belonging to the Acoma Reservation. Technically I am not allowed to take photos on tribal land without permission, but I snapped a few of the surrounding area and will include them in a photo dump.

Day 36 (Labor Day) was a relatively short ride past the continental divide at just under 8000 ft. I saw only one park ranger in the afternoon, and camped alone at El Morro Natl. Monument. So from yesterday morning until now, I talked with literally no one. It's an odd feeling, and in fact I don't think I have ever gone more than a full day without conversation with a single person. Day 36 was definitely an exercise in self-sufficiency too; I packed in and out all of my food, water, and shelter. Sleeping alone in a National Park was pretty eerie to say the least... I got little sleep and awoke at 3 AM to something rustling around near my bike. Clutching my utility knife and pepper spray, I unzipped the tent to find a couple of coyotes poking around for food. I shined a light and scared them off, relieved it wasn't one of the bears or mountain lions depicted on the warning signs near camp. Or some homeless guy... oh wait, that's me! There are rattlesnakes around here too, but my two encounters were just pedaling by them.

Day 37 was a quick 60 miles, mostly downhill, to Gallup. I am here for the night and have yet to meet my host. She is teaching middle school on the Navajo Reservation. Aside from parts of Gallup, pretty much everyone around here is Native American. Originally I was surprised by this, but upon checking my maps realized that almost all of the past three days has been in and out of tribal land.

Tomorrow I begin my ride into Arizona

"Sorry kid, you can't eat your own food here. DOH regulations... yeah I know they suck. Here, hand me your water bottles and I'll fill 'em with ice water. There's a park two blocks down, you can definitely eat there."

A Note on Doges

I was told about dogs chasing cyclists before starting the trip, but was still amazed at the number I've encountered. The majority were in Missouri and Oklahoma, but at least a few dogs have chased me in every state. I like dogs and I know they're more excited and curious than aggressively territorial, so I usually just slow to a stop and pet them until they get bored of a stagnant stranger. Really I just want to avoid getting them riled up so much that they sprint into the street where a car could be right behind or in front of me.

There was one encounter where it was pretty obvious the dog was angry;  deep growls interrupted the barks and he/she made a beeline right for my leg. I unlatched my foot and... bopped it in the nose. I felt bad, but decided I would much rather deal with the guilt of making a dog whimper than a big bite in my leg.

Day 34: Santa Fe to Albuquerque NM (80 mi)

Got a decent start on the road, but even gentle hills left me winded because I am still not used to the altitude. No worries - I stopped often to catch my breath and take pictures, and the ride was mostly downhill (Albuquerque is down at 5000 ft). The next few days will bring more hills; I think I'll change my mileage to exit New Mexico in three days instead of two. The mountains are beautiful too, no need to rush...

Scott and David are hosting me tonight in Albuquerque. I was told of Scott's cooking beforehand, and was not disappointed: ribs, potatoes, carrots, kale. Sure beats another night with the Chef!

your sauce is bland and your ravioli unpalatable

No hosts until Gallup. Maybe some camping, maybe some asking for a bed or couch or floor.

Day 33: Santa Fe NM

Today was as much a rest day as it was an opportunity to take inventory, stock up on clif bars, and get the bike checked out. The awesome team at The Broken Spoke cleaned and lubed the chain for free, and sold me a half-roll of bar tape (it's all I needed) for five bucks. They also helped identify the source of a really annoying squeak in the front wheel: some rubber dust protector that just needed a drop of lubricant.

I got coffee with Theo, a follower of this blog and fellow Ithacan. He has a cool pottery studio and gallery here in Santa Fe. We chatted for an hour about Ithaca, bike touring, a bunch of stuff. Man, it's really great to make these connections 2000 miles away from home!

I didn't get the opportunity to take many pictures of the city during the day, but will tomorrow when I ride out. Here's one of a really nice bike path along the railroad

So, the big reason I wanted to be here today was the burning of Zozobra ("Old Man Gloom"). It's an annual festival in its 91st year, with thousands of people attending from all around the region. Everyone got to write down their negative or gloomy thoughts on slips of paper, and it all burned within the massive effigy.

Zozobra from a distance

A dancing ritual...

Everyone shouts "BURN HIM!!!"

That's today's quote.

Day 32: Santa Rosa to Santa Fe NM (110 miles)

Made it to Romeroville by early afternoon before my host Susan came and picked me up. 40-minute drive over to Santa Fe, and I looked smugly at each mile of road that passed underneath us. Had I tried the full ride, I may have been able to reach the city by 9 pm.

Somewhere in the past month I biked from 500 ft in Ithaca to well over 7000 here in the southern Rockies - I'm now at altitude and will be for the next week and a half. I worried about acclimating to the elevation change, but the only effect I have noticed is some muscle cramping. Of course, high altitude can probably just get lumped in with wind, hills, and heat. I can lose water easily up here too, without even sweating that much. The air is thin and the sun intense. With all this said, it's probably a good idea to take an off day here, and scale back the mileage for a bit thereafter.

Santa Fe is absolutely beautiful and contrasts a lot with the plains I was staring at the past week. I'll take some photos tomorrow during my day off.

Day 31: San Jon to Santa Rosa NM (90 mi) *Photos Here!*

Spent nearly 14 hours on the road, stops and breaks included. I'll resist complaining about the wind, heat, and hills from now on. It's just the reality out here; harder pedaling for fewer miles. Why haven't I scaled back the riding with this new terrain? I have been told of a great annual event in Santa Fe this Friday, and I don't want to miss out.

Tomorrow entails tough climbs, and a 100-mile stretch with no water. I already have a safety net in place with my host, though: she'll come pick me up if I don't make it in time. Camping on the side of the road is... plausible but kind of dangerous.

Anyway, I rolled into Santa Rosa just as some heavy rains came in from the west. It got darker and wetter as I sat and ate dinner, and my hopes of finding another Zeke and Micky MacLeod faded promptly. I cracked and bought a room in a Day's Inn. So nice... So comfy. Damn, I'm really pampering myself here in the southwest!

The room has wifi, so I can finally upload some photos without fear of data charges skyrocketing.

A sunrise back in Oklahoma

Cadillac Ranch, just west of Amarillo

The beginning of a massive feedlot in Texas. I breathed through my mouth exclusively for about 20 minutes, but the air tasted thick. Gross, right?

These cows look happier

A decrepit shack a few miles off 66. I'm pretty sure it's empty, but did hear some sounds. Eh, it's that Lore podcast getting to me... Right?

An old abandoned bus here in NM. Reminds me a little of the one Chris McCandless found in the Alaskan bush.

Open road. I love stretches like these - no music, no podcasts. Just me and my own breathing as it mixes with that of the earth.

"We don't get much choice in how we live and how we die, Eric. Be sure to make use of the choices you have."

- Great Aunt Betty back in Cleveland

Day 30: Amarillo TX to San Jon NM (100 mi)

Rough but gratifying day. Originally I planned a 50-mile ride to Adrian TX, the official midpoint of RT 66. But because I left so early from Angela's house, I made it there by noon. So... I doubled the mileage and ended up crossing the TX/NM border by late afternoon. 

Oh yeah, Angela is on strike from her job at the Pantex Plant in Amarillo. It's the U.S.' only site for the assembly and disassembly of its nuclear weapons. She talked to me about workers getting all kinds of cancers and diseases as a result of the radiation. That wasn't even the reason for the strike, though - just benefits being cut and a crappy renewed contract with the union.

The wind gets to be so bad from 10 am until 5 pm. It felt as if I were pedaling uphill the whole 100 miles. Wonder how it will feel when I actually am pedaling uphill...

Methodist church here in San Jon put me up for the night. In general, they've been more reliable than fire stations. A lot of the stations simply aren't manned at night. 

I have conversations with about a dozen people everyday, and for the past month I have received numerous bits of advice and general rhetoric from total strangers. Today my friend and confidant Pearse Anderson suggested I make note of some of these sayings on the blog. Pearse is a great amateur-turning-professional photographer too, I'll let him comment with preferred contact info if he so pleases.

Here's something Chris said to me back in NY. If you don't remember, he's the bike shop owner that put a rim strip on the rear wheel.

"Kid, I've seen an 80-year old man complete this journey, on a freakin' Huffy. One with 3 speeds and a wire-rim basket to hold all his shit. If he can do it, you sure as hell can."

So that's one that pops up when I'm biking against the wind on a blistering day.