Almost Arizona

Here's my first post about why I'm riding and why donating to Water Life Hope will cheer up Eeyore.

March 19: 68 miles, Ludlow to Fenner

The ride was easier than we thought it would be.  We did get off earlier, and the ride was shorter and best of all we went downhill a really long way, 30 MPH sort of downhill.  Enormous trains curved through the valley as we moved through the thin desert air.

The sign is still up at Roy's in Amboy,
but you can't check in.
Photo courtesy of Carol Maher

We made it to Amboy, right by an enormous crater after a couple of hours of riding.  It was early enough that a young European couple on bikes, he a Belgian and she a Spaniard, were just making breakfast.   He was a photographer, traveling with a tripod that appeared to be roughly the weight of a boat anchor.  Once they discovered that we had a support vehicle coming, and a bus at that, they asked for water.  It's the currency of the desert, five precious dollars for a gallon in the store at Amboy and our new friends didn't appear to be flush with cash.  They were a bit surprised when we just bought them a bottle.  But we're old and have money.  And they really needed the water.  Even though they're young and it's early in the season the desert is dangerous without water.

These signs are all along the road.  You have to feel sorry
for the guys getting the calls.

Steve made an impressive arrival in the bus, and we gave our Euro pals a tour.  They were most impressed with Steve's and my sleeping pad, and Matthew's solar electric system.   The cost of the sleeping pad was daunting and their discussion revealed their journeys would soon be separate.  They thought maybe a single wide might be affordable.  No idea who would end up with it.  Both of them were headed north to Las Vegas for now.  We were going relentlessly east.  Bikes and bus all took off.

Very quickly Carol and I were in front a a ROAD CLOSURE sign.  Take the detour, stuffed with classic cars, motorcycles and the occasional Lamborghini?  Or go around it and figure our way around whatever lay ahead.  Choosing the latter we put ourselves beyond the reach of any aid Steve could render.  There were water trucks going back and forth with confidence, but they weren't stopping when we asked, so we had no real information until an amiable older guy in a Subaru slowed down to tell us it was passable.  His foreign legion flap hat swayed and his mirrored aviator glasses gleamed, then he was gone.

Cadiz Summit

Save for the occasional swift moving water truck, the road was idyllically empty, with desert flowers.  Bridges over washes had completeness issues, one of them missing entirely.  On this dry and sunny day, however, a dip through the dusty wash was no particular problem.  The climb up to the Cadiz (say KAY - deeze) Summit looked fearsome on the elevation profile, but we made it to the top without trouble and well before the afternoon winds.  At the top we stopped at something that was probably once a gas station and renewed sun block.

The desert really is blooming.

By the time Carol and I were pulling into Fenner, though, the sun block wasn't enough.  It turns out not only is my skin Irish, so are my eyes.  First they had wept, then they dried, they I just plain couldn't look out of them.  I'd called my eye doctor in Amboy and now I took his advice seriously.  I hid in the bus until morning.

March 20: 40 miles, Fenner to Needles

Sunrise in the Fenner parking lot

I could open my eyes and see stuff in the morning.  Fenner consists of a single gas station and convenience store, the latter with a sign on the door advising prospective customers not to complain about prices.  Given its location and singularity the local proprietor was in a position to charge what he willed.   There were 16 oz jars of garbanzo beans for $5, diesel for $5.49 and hot tea water for $1.   The cooperative kindness of Ludlow wasn't here, and it wasn't difficult to leave.

Folks headed west from Flagstaff

We were headed to the Colorado River so there was more downhill to Needles.  The rest day was originally scheduled in the desert.  I guess I've been at Holy Trinity too long, but I thought reading and praying in the wilderness would be a great idea.  I couldn't sell it.  So we rode to Needles for a (probably more practical) rest day at the Needles KOA.