Tag: bicycling riding desert

Cycling Through the West – Tuba City to Kayena

Bicycling in the West – Day 13 – Tuba City to Kayenta

The desert flowers seemed to be in full bloom, and beautiful in the morning

 

 

 

“Time isn’t used, it’s experienced.”
~ Hopi Proverb

 

 

 

We’ve got an easy day ahead of us today – only 75 miles. Unless the wind is hard on us, we should get done in less than 8 hours. We take our time and enjoy breakfast, and meet some interesting folks as we’re walking out of Denny’s.

It’s a small group of folks – sounds like just 2 couples plus an extra person. They’ve got a truck with a trailer, and the trailer holds a couple of little Vespa-type scooters. The women ride the scooters along the highway, and the men follow along in the truck. When they get tired of “scooting”, the men pick them up and trailer the scooters. It’s a grand adventure for them. They’ve always wanted to take a trip like this along the highways of the Southwest. When they hit the high plains of Texas in a few days, they’ll just ride in the truck to avoid the heat.

I’m curious about why the little scooters rather than just everyone taking motorcycles? Well, a good part of the reason seems to be that the scooters are so much more fuel efficient. Plus, they’re cute. That’s important for sure… Continue reading “Cycling Through the West – Tuba City to Kayena”

Cycling Across The West – Sedona to Tuba City in Arizona

Bicycling Across the West
Day 12 – Sedona to Tuba City in Arizona

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”
~ Crowfoot

Today I meet my friend Dave, and we complete the rest of the ride together. Our original plan was to meet at the Grand Canyon and ride from there. However, we’ve talked on the phone and changed our route a bit in response to concern over a section of road we were going to ride on. The road we’re concerned about is Highways 163 and 162 in Arizona and Utah, which takes us through Monument Valley. Dave’s experience on the road as he was driving down to his starting point was that it was very narrow, lots of curves, no shoulder, and lots of RVs.

We’re both fine with all of that – down to the RV part. My experience with the lack of safety and courtesy on the part of RV drivers so far on this trip has me pretty concerned about that section, and Dave feels the same way. So we modified our planned route, and I’m meeting Dave in Flagstaff this morning. From here, we’ll ride to Tuba City today. I’m clearly upset that we’re compelled – out of fear of our lives – to change our route because so many RV users are either incompetent or inconsiderate drivers. But it is what it is.

Riding through this upcoming section, the thing that makes bicycle trip routing difficult is the space between towns. There are only so many places where a motel exists, and we need to be able to fit a daily ride somewhat neatly between those spots. Our original plan, in fact, included a 140 mile day because of that difficulty. That’s a long day in the desert if the winds aren’t kind… Our new route keeps most of our days down to a little under 100 miles, though there’s one or two that go over 100 miles. Continue reading “Cycling Across The West – Sedona to Tuba City in Arizona”

Bicycling Across The West – Congress to Sedona in Arizona

Day 10 – Congress to Sedona

“No, life cannot be understood flat on a page. It has to be lived; a person has to get out of his head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath… We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn’t it?”
  ~  Donald Miller – Through Painted Deserts

Today is my last full day of riding by myself. Tomorrow is a rest day in Sedona with my friend Dale, then the following day I meet up at some point with my friend Dave to complete the ride back to Colorado. My days of solitude on this trip are over after today.

I expected to enjoy the solitude, but I’ve frankly enjoyed it more than I’d anticipated. The desert amplifies and highlights solitude. The simplicity and solitude I’ve found riding across these deserts has moved me in a way that’s beyond my expectations. I’ve found a peace inside myself that’s a little deeper than the already wonderful peace I knew.

How does the desert do this? I’ve always enjoyed time on my own. In solitude I’ve been able to discover the things within me and about me that make me what I am today. Time alone has always wrapped my mind and my soul in a way that opens me up to myself. Continue reading “Bicycling Across The West – Congress to Sedona in Arizona”

Day 8 – Twentynine Palms to Parker

Bicycle Touring in the West - Day 8 – Twentynine Palms to Parker

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.”
  ~ Stephen King, The Gunslinger

I lay awake and look at the clock beside my bed. 3:59 AM. I’m waiting for the wake-up call.

I’m not sure why I ever do this – ask for a wake-up call or set an alarm. Most of the time, I don’t use an alarm at all, but if I want to make sure I wake before 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning, then I’ll use some sort of alarm. But when I do, invariably, I’ll wake a minute or two before the alarm, and wait for it to go off.

I remember the exact day this started for me. I was probably around 11 years old or so, and we were spending a week in a cabin on a lake. I’d forgotten any sort of alarm clock, but wanted more than anything in the world to get up at 5:00 AM to go fishing. My folks let me take the old rowboat out into the cove by myself to fish, and the independence of taking a real boat out onto the water by myself was overwhelming intoxication to an 11-year-old boy who loved to fish. Continue reading “Day 8 – Twentynine Palms to Parker”

Day 6 – Victorville to Twentynine Palms

Bicycle Touring in the West
Day 6 – Victorville to Twentynine Palms

“It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts.”
  ~ K.T. Jong

Determined not to be surprised by the earlier sunrise, and highly motivated to log as many miles as possible in the wind-free early morning hours, I’m wheeling my bike out of the motel in Victorville at the earliest hint of light. I make my way east on Bear Valley Road, where traffic is light this time of morning. The shoulder is good in places, less than good in others, and I’m told that during busy times, this road carries very heavy traffic.

Connecting with highway 18 east of town, I follow this road into the little town of Lucerne Valley, where I stop at what will likely be my last available water supply for 50 miles or so. Here, I leave highway 18, and head further east on Old Woman Springs Road. (It’s also called highway 247, but that’s a boring name…)

The traffic on highway 18 is starting to pick up a bit by the time I leave it, and the traffic on Old Woman Springs Road remains very light early on this Saturday morning. It’s a beautiful morning, and while a bit of wind is swirling around, it swirls so that at times it’s in my face, and at times at my back. While there’s no shoulder at all on this road, the lack of traffic makes this a small concern.

If there was any doubt before, there can be no doubt now – I’m in the desert. And I begin to notice something, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I begin to notice less of something. It starts with a curiosity I develop about a chirping I keep hearing on both sides of the road. I wonder what sort of bird might be so abundant out here in the desert, and stop several times to sit still and watch for the bird. Continue reading “Day 6 – Victorville to Twentynine Palms”

Day 5 – Frazier Park to Victorville

A Bicycle Tour Across The West:
Day 5 – Frazier Park to Victorville

Mad Dogs in the Desert
“Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. “Which dog wins? The one I feed the most.”
– Comanche Elder speaking of the inner struggle of good and evil
 

The motel I stay at in Frazier Park (technically the town in Lebec I think) is clearly a trucker’s motel. I’m in the common breakfast area at 5:00 AM, and at that hour, it’s full of truckers already. I don’t exactly fit in seamlessly in my spandex and bright yellow windbreaker, but after a few odd looks, the truckers seem to accept me in their space.
I realize we’re not that far from LA here, and many of these guys probably have deliveries to make in the LA area, and are getting an early start to try and beat traffic. Clearly this hotel isn’t a “holiday and recreation destination”…

It’s quite cold this morning – around 35 again – and I really don’t have gear for that temperature. I’m confident this is a short inconvenience at this altitude and hour. The elevation is something around 4500′, which is “in the mountains” in this part of the country. My first half-mile or so is a little climb, which I’m grateful for to warm up a little, but after cresting the pass, it’s a bitter descent for a few miles in the icy air. Yesterday morning, the temperature was about the same, but I was working steadily. This morning, descending through the icy pre-dawn air, my fingers ache and I’m shivering pretty significantly. Continue reading “Day 5 – Frazier Park to Victorville”