Day 7 – Resting in Twentynine Palms

Bicycle Touring in the West
Day 7 – Rest Day in Twentynine Palms

“Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”

  ~ Pooh’s Little Instruction Book, inspired by A.A. Milne

Falling asleep last night, I’d thought I might try and “sleep in” this morning. Silly thought, as I was probably falling asleep about 8:30 at night, to the sound of a loud and boisterous party out by the pool. Normally this would have kept me from sleeping, but for whatever reason, I was able to sleep through most of it, waking occasionally but falling back asleep.

I’m not a particularly good sleeper, often waking to the slightest of sounds, generally not able to go back to sleep if I get out of bed in the middle of the night. Under normal circumstances, I usually start waking up by 5:00 AM, and on this trip, I’ve been out of bed by 4:00 most mornings. So this morning, “sleeping in” means I’m able to stay in bed until nearly 5:30 AM. Which represents a very good night’s sleep.

Early morning is absolutely my favorite time of day. There aren’t many souls up and about early, so it always feels like I’ve got the cosmos to myself. Well, maybe not the cosmos, but this morning I at least the hotel lobby and breakfast area. I read while the breakfast counter is set up, and enjoy a very quiet and peaceful breakfast outside in the cool shade by the pool.

After a couple hours, some youngsters start to stake their claim to the pool, and I head back in to the breakfast area to enjoy a little “second breakfast.” There are quite a few folks in here now, and listening to the chatter around me, I’m able to deduce that along with the wedding party that stayed here last night, there was also a small group of young men from the nearby Marine Corps training center staying at the hotel while doing some training. There is every indication that some of the young Marines got to know some of the wedding party as the orbits of their respective parties seemed to intersect last night.

Isn’t love grand? Well, maybe not love, but at least everyone seems to feel better this morning. Well, OK, maybe not better in all respects – there are clearly some hangovers being carefully nursed. Well OK, in the case of the Marines, their leader seems none too tender with them in his “nursing” of their hangovers.

But something’s certainly grand – you can feel it as the two parties rub shoulders again this morning… Though I didn’t appreciate the extra noise created by the collision of the orbits of these two parties last night, I’m certainly appreciating the interesting energy in the breakfast area this morning.

I walk out into some shade in the front of the building, and feel the beginning of a west wind building. A breeze blowing out of the west tomorrow when I ride east across the desert will be welcome indeed, so I cross my fingers as I sit down and lean against the side of the building.

I’m feeling downright euphoric this morning, with nothing but rest ahead of me for the whole day. I’ reminded of a time 35 years ago when Peggy and I hiked the northern portions of the Appalachian Trail. While I remember many things of that trip, one of the nicest memories I have is a day that we rested along the trail. We’d endured lots of rain, and one morning we decided to just stay in the tent and read all day, interspersing lots of naps between the reading. It was a delightful day, with gentle rain falling against the tent all day long.

I’m not likely to see any rain today, but I’ve got that same euphoric feeling. The desert breeze is caressing my cheek, and every breath I take feels like I’m drinking in goodness. While I do have one little task on my “to-do” list today, the rest of my day is focused on resting and enjoying.

I chat with a fella who’s smoking a cigarette, and he comments that it must be nice to have a day to “do nothing”. He’s with the wedding party, and it sounds like they’re pretty busy recovering today. I think about his comment – am I really “doing nothing”?

If I were doing nothing, I think I’d worry about getting bored, but I have no worry of getting bored today. I plan on enjoying a walk down to the Rite Aid, poking around town a little bit, maybe stop at the grocery and pick up supplies for an early start tomorrow morning. Through all that, I hope to thoroughly enjoy every minute. Then, I have little doubt a nap will call to me early in the afternoon, wherein I’ll wallow in that sweet place just on the edge of sleep for 15 or 20 minutes. While I may slip into the pool later, I suspect I’ll enjoy my book sitting in the shade at the edge of the pool more, listening to kids play and parents gossip.

The promise of this rest day has been up in the forefront of my mind during some tough moments over the past several days, and I plan on sipping every possible molecule of enjoyment from every moment of the day. Doing nothing? Not to my way of seeing it.

My task at the Rite Aid is to pick up a new camera. The camera I brought with me is on of those “tough” models that Olympus has been making. They’re supposed to be waterproof, shockproof, and overall pretty darned indestructible. I got my first one a few years back, and I loved both the durability and the pictures it took, so I gave it to my son when he went overseas and bought their newer model. This thing is only months old, but it’s been giving me problems almost from the day I got it. Yesterday during my ride, it finally seemed to give up the ghost.

That stuff happens, and it’s not so much a piece-of-junk camera that irks me, as it is the missed opportunity for pictures. So today, I’m going to go down to the Rite Aid, and see about picking up a cheap little replacement camera. It won’t be waterproof or shockproof, but I’ll just try and handle it more carefully. I’m more than just a little perturbed by this turn of events. I really like the idea of a camera I don’t have to worry about, and can keep at my fingertips all day long. I like taking lots of pictures, and I’m a bit concerned that being extra careful with the replacement camera will cut down on the pictures I take.

So I’m at the Rite Aid when they open at 9:00, and talk to the manager about cameras. He says that he sells lots of $20 cameras, but most of them come back. I buy the best camera he has, for about $80. He does seem genuine in his belief that the overall quality of this camera is significantly better than the others. I’ll trust his judgement, as I’m only a third of the way done with my trip at this point, and I’d be pretty disappointed if I couldn’t take pictures again.

When I get the camera back to my room, I try my Olympus just for grins. Lo and behold, it seems to be working again. I try it several times during the day, and it always comes up and works. I think about taking the new one back to Rite Aid, but decide I’d better be a little cautious and keep it with me – just keep it packed away safely.

Late in the morning, I’m sitting in some shade close to the pool. I’ve got my book with me, but I’m not reading it. I’m enjoying the hot air in the shade, and the sound of kids laughing and splashing in the water. I notice a small (warbler sized) bird moving around the desert plants, and reflect on how the wildlife has changed along with the plant life as I’ve moved from the coast out to the desert.

Back in the western part of California, the snakes along the side of the road were thick, but out here I’m not seeing many of them. Birds as well have changed a thinned ranks, but they’re still around. While there aren’t a lot of bugs in the air, there are some, and the birds I see seem to be primarily bug-catcher sorts of birds judging by the beak shape.

One thing I didn’t count on when I planned this trip was how full of blooms the desert is in June. The most spectacular plant is the Datura that I see growing all along the highway. Early in the morning, it has beautiful big white flowers that look almost iridescent in the bright sunlight. As the day heats up, the flowers either close or face, because I don’t see them in the afternoon heat. (Of course, they might be there and I’m just not paying close attention in the afternoon heat…) They commonly grow right out over the side of the road, and early in the morning their fragrance is wonderful as I pedal past them.

I lean back in my chair, enjoying the shade by the pool, and recall a few frustrating incidents I’ve had as I’ve approached this rest day. The wind, in particular, has a way of robbing the enjoyment from a ride, and I’ve had a few days of bad wind to contend with. I’m feeling such euphoria today, and I’m disappointed in myself for allowing the wind to bring my mood down when it’s in my face. For years, I’ve just accepted that a headwind means I’m in a bad mood, but I wonder if there’s a way for me to work on that, so I can find more of the kind of pure joy in this trip that I’m feeling today.

Not that I haven’t been finding joy along the road in this trip so far. Quite the opposite – I’m enjoying this trip even more than I’d expected to. But looking back on the 15 or 20 miles of bad wind yesterday, and the same the day before, and the same the day before, I’m remembering too much of the bad wind, and not enough of the good. Each of those days had some wonderful miles, and it’s those wonderful miles that I want to use in painting my perception and memory of the day. The bad wind can drip bitterness into the sweetness of the day, and I want to find a way to let that happen less in the future.

Nearly every moment must have some measure of sweetness in it, along with some measure of bitterness. I need to sniff out the sweetness in each moment, and find a way to distill the bitterness away.

My eyes are closed as I’m wandering through these thoughts, and I drift up against the quiet, sweet shore of sleep in my chair there by the pool. The kids have left, and the quiet is pristine. I allow my mind to lap gently against the shore of sleep for 10 or 15 minutes, like a log might gently roll back and forth against a shady bank on the side of a quiet pond.

“There is more refreshment and stimulation in a nap, even of the briefest, than in all the alcohol ever distilled.”  ~ Ovid