It has been one month since the journey ended—hard to believe. I’m just getting back into riding regularly, some with Peggy and Nancy, a bit with Tony, and, of course, solo. The routes of New Hampshire and Vermont are simply a joy. My everyday route of 25 miles starts just a mile from home (to avoid a steep, dirt road leading to the house), while I have about 15-20 other routes from 20-75 miles which require anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour to get to the starting point. All is well.
I’ve been working on transferring my blog from the internet to document format so I can print it as a journal. In doing so, not only did I recapture so many wonderful memories, but also I got the urge to categorize highlights and, yes, some not so highlights, which will serve to jog my memory as time passes. So, here goes—
Most Scenic/Beautiful Vistas
Blythe, CA
Globe, AZ
Kingston, NM
Las Cruces, NM
Fort Davis, TX
Vanderpool, TX
Kerrville, TX
Blanco, TX
Navasota, TX
Most Challenging Rides
Alpine, CA
Jacumba, CA
Globe, AZ
Silver City, NM
Kingston, NM
Fort Davis, TX
Del Rio, TX
Vanderpool, TX
Kerrville, TX
Highest Passes
3890’; Tecate Divide, Jacumba, CA
4600’; Signal Mountain Pass, Globe, AZ
6355’; Continental Divide, Silver City, NM
8828’; Emory Pass, Kingston, NM
Best Tailwinds
Blythe, CA
Fort Hancock, TX
Van Horn, TX
Marathon, TX
Sanderson, TX
Pensacola, FL
Best Downhills
Brawley, CA
Silver City, NM
Kingston, NM
Las Cruces, NM
Fort Davis, TX
Best Wildflowers
Blythe, CA
Salome, AZ
Globe, AZ
La Grange, TX
Navasota, TX
High Springs, FL
First Century
Marianna, FL
Best Break/Lunch Stops
Wickenburg, AZ (Salome)—Ingredients
Lordsburg, NM (Duncan)—Old Joe’s Café
Las Cruces, NM (Hatch)
Fort Hancock, TX (Tornillo)—La Calesa
Marathon, TX (Alpine)
Kerrville, TX (Medina)—Lovetree Orchard
La Grange, TX—Prause Meat Market
Silsbee, TX (Kountze)—Mama Jack’s
St. Francisville, LA (Morganza)—Not Your Mama’s Café
Dauphin Island, AL—Barnicle Bill’s
Pensacola, FL (Gulf Shores)—Trigger’s
High Springs, FL
Best Swimming
Bracketville, TX
Wakulla Springs, FL
High Springs, FL; Ichetucknee Springs (unfortunately, I missed the swim due to a back injury)
Best Accommodations
Kingston, NM
Fort Davis, TX
Marathon, TX
Vanderpool, TX
St. Francisville, LA
Wakulla Springs, FL
Best Rest Days
Silver City, NM
Fort Davis, TX
St. Francisville, LA
Wakulla Springs, FL
Other Highlights
Apache Junction, AZ—Desert Botanical Garden, Chihuly exhibit in Phoenix
Kingston, NM—turkey dinner and breakfast buffet prepared by the Black Range Lodge staff
St. Francisville, LA—crossing the Mississippi
Wakulla Springs, FL—jumping off the high platform and the boat ride
Worst Head/Crosswinds
Jacumba, CA
Salome, AZ
Safford, AZ
Las Cruces, NM
Fort Davis, TX
Del Rio, TX
Kerrville, TX
Lafayette, LA
Pascagoula, MS
Perry, FL
Coldest Weather
Brawley, CA
Marathon, TX
Sanderson, TX
Least Scenic
El Paso, TX (last 35 miles)
Van Horn, TX
Ft. Davis (first 40 miles)
Sanderson, TX
Del Rio, TX
Bracketville, TX
Silsbee, TX
Quite a lot of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama
Perry, FL
Hardest SAG Days
Lordsburg, NM
Bastrop, TX
Monday, June 1, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Day 56, April 30: Palatka to St. Augustine, FL
43 of 43 miles
Where to, today? St. Augustine, where the journey ends at the white sands of Anastasia State Park and the Atlantic Ocean.
We got our marching orders last evening, after our last meal expertly prepared by Chef Linda. We would gather at a fire station to meet up with our police escort for the final six miles into town. The sun was barely breaking the horizon when the first riders took off. The morning ride was through pastoral country roads and along the St. Johns River—very pretty. Tony and Jesse, our pup, met me at the fire station so we could do the camera transfer—so wonderful to see them!
Soon the police-escorted pelaton was on its way, sirens screaming and lights flashing, snaking through the historic downtown of St. Augustine as traffic stopped and pedestrians waved and cheered.
Family and friends gathered at the State Park to await our arrival.
Eight weeks after our departure from San Diego, arrive we did!
As in San Diego, we carried our bikes across the sand for the traditional tire-dipping—this time the front tire.
After a final picnic lunch at the beach pavilion with fellow riders, family, and friends, we loaded up my bike and gear and headed back to Sarasota.
And, so, it’s over. A year of training, two months of riding. Wind, lots and lots of wind. Sun and blue sky, virtually every day. And—NO RAIN! I cannot believe that I rode my bike for two months and didn’t get rained on once. My final mileage tally was 2,226 of 3,104 total miles. And only two flat tires, both in the first few days of riding. I need a few days of rest for my sore body parts, of which there are many, then I will hit the road again.
Thanks to all who rode with me and helped to "train me up" for this adventure. And a tremendous thank you to family and friends who followed my progress. It was wonderful for me to stay connected and your phone calls and emails provided such encouragement.
Where to, today? St. Augustine, where the journey ends at the white sands of Anastasia State Park and the Atlantic Ocean.
We got our marching orders last evening, after our last meal expertly prepared by Chef Linda. We would gather at a fire station to meet up with our police escort for the final six miles into town. The sun was barely breaking the horizon when the first riders took off. The morning ride was through pastoral country roads and along the St. Johns River—very pretty. Tony and Jesse, our pup, met me at the fire station so we could do the camera transfer—so wonderful to see them!
Soon the police-escorted pelaton was on its way, sirens screaming and lights flashing, snaking through the historic downtown of St. Augustine as traffic stopped and pedestrians waved and cheered.
Family and friends gathered at the State Park to await our arrival.
Eight weeks after our departure from San Diego, arrive we did!
As in San Diego, we carried our bikes across the sand for the traditional tire-dipping—this time the front tire.
After a final picnic lunch at the beach pavilion with fellow riders, family, and friends, we loaded up my bike and gear and headed back to Sarasota.
And, so, it’s over. A year of training, two months of riding. Wind, lots and lots of wind. Sun and blue sky, virtually every day. And—NO RAIN! I cannot believe that I rode my bike for two months and didn’t get rained on once. My final mileage tally was 2,226 of 3,104 total miles. And only two flat tires, both in the first few days of riding. I need a few days of rest for my sore body parts, of which there are many, then I will hit the road again.
Thanks to all who rode with me and helped to "train me up" for this adventure. And a tremendous thank you to family and friends who followed my progress. It was wonderful for me to stay connected and your phone calls and emails provided such encouragement.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Day 55, April 29: High Springs to Palatka, FL
0 of 73 miles—SAG driver
The first half of the mileage was through pleasant farmland with wildflowers galore.
The second half was on a busy highway with either no shoulder or a shoulder strewn with debris. And a stiff headwind. It was the last long ride of the trip.
Many family members and friends have started to arrive in anticipation of the big day tomorrow.
We have had nicknames for many of the riding groups such as the Big Dogs and the Three Musketeers. There are various other groupings such as Team New England comprised of Robin, Nancy, Peggy, me, and Elisabeth.
The first half of the mileage was through pleasant farmland with wildflowers galore.
The second half was on a busy highway with either no shoulder or a shoulder strewn with debris. And a stiff headwind. It was the last long ride of the trip.
Many family members and friends have started to arrive in anticipation of the big day tomorrow.
We have had nicknames for many of the riding groups such as the Big Dogs and the Three Musketeers. There are various other groupings such as Team New England comprised of Robin, Nancy, Peggy, me, and Elisabeth.
Day 54, April 28: Perry to High Springs, FL
44 of 76 miles
My sore back hit the wall at about 30 miles, and I limped into the second SAG stop at mile 44. I drive SAG tomorrow, which should give me some recovery time so I can complete the last day of riding into St. Augustine. The roads today were lined with masses of Sweet William wildflowers—gorgeous.
My sore back hit the wall at about 30 miles, and I limped into the second SAG stop at mile 44. I drive SAG tomorrow, which should give me some recovery time so I can complete the last day of riding into St. Augustine. The roads today were lined with masses of Sweet William wildflowers—gorgeous.
We are in Florida spring country and several people took the opportunity to swim at the beautiful Ichetucknee Springs.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Day 53, April 27: Wakulla Springs to Perry, FL
53 of 53 miles
Today the ride was more of the same: flat, straight, lined with tall pines, with the addition of pesky headwinds. The 53 miles seemed like 103. I hurt my back yesterday not in jumping off the high dive but in diving off the low platform. Of all things, after all these miles across the country. Thankfully, the finish line is within view, on Thursday.
Today the ride was more of the same: flat, straight, lined with tall pines, with the addition of pesky headwinds. The 53 miles seemed like 103. I hurt my back yesterday not in jumping off the high dive but in diving off the low platform. Of all things, after all these miles across the country. Thankfully, the finish line is within view, on Thursday.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Day 52, April 25: Wakulla Springs, FL
Rest Day
This was the perfect rest day. This morning I took a boat ride that explores to about three miles downstream from the actual spring. It was teeming with birds, alligators, and other wildlife and the boat pilot did a lively and entertaining presentation. The spring is the deepest in the United States and the third or fourth deepest in the world.
Osprey
Yellow-crowned night heron
Two Tarzan movies were filmed here, as well as The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
Location of the Tarzan movies
The highlight of the day was the jump off the high dive. Laurey, Marci, and I were the brave souls. I managed six jumps before I tired of climbing the stairs to the top.
Laurey, Carol, and Marci
This was the perfect rest day. This morning I took a boat ride that explores to about three miles downstream from the actual spring. It was teeming with birds, alligators, and other wildlife and the boat pilot did a lively and entertaining presentation. The spring is the deepest in the United States and the third or fourth deepest in the world.
Osprey
Yellow-crowned night heronTwo Tarzan movies were filmed here, as well as The Creature from the Black Lagoon.
Location of the Tarzan movies
The highlight of the day was the jump off the high dive. Laurey, Marci, and I were the brave souls. I managed six jumps before I tired of climbing the stairs to the top.
Laurey, Carol, and MarciDay 51, April 25: Quincy to Wakulla Springs, FL
39 of 39 miles
Not much of interest to report about the ride itself. It was a short mileage day heading into our last rest day. Flat, straight roads with tall pine on both sides. However, the destination, Wakulla Springs State Park, is a gem. A kind and patient woman agreed to take pictures of our group with each of our cameras.
Carol, Donna, Peggy, Marni, Mary Jo, Elisabeth, Marilyn
The Lodge was built by financier Edward Ball in the 1930’s on land surrounding a natural spring. His philosophy from the beginning was to preserve the spring in as natural a state as possible and the philosophy still holds. The Lodge itself has been beautifully preserved, particularly the common rooms.
Of particular note is the ceiling, fabricated from heart cypress, or cypress that has been immersed in water or 50 years or longer making it impervious to rot. The ceiling was originally planned to be plain cypress. However, shortly after completion of the Lodge, Ball was approached by a German man who proposed painting “nice designs” on the ceiling. It was later revealed that Mr. Piplack was the last court painter for Kaiser Wilhelm. The painted scenes combine European folk art, and Native American and local wildlife scenes.
A massive fireplace is the focal point of the lobby. It is constructed of cement, poured on site, to simulate real stonework.
It is a tradition from previous years’ trips that there be a Talent, uh, Variety Show during the last rest layover. Tonight was the big night. Almost everyone managed to come up with some manner of performance. Peggy and Elisabeth performed mostly original lyrics to the tune of “My Favorite Things”.
Peggy, Elisabeth, Chef Linda, Lois
Recently Laurey petitioned the SAG drivers to be designated an “honorary SAG” as she helps with dish duty most nights. The SAG drivers deliberated for several days, mostly to keep Laurey in a high state of anticipation, but also to give Ann an opportunity to find an appropriate tiara at a Dollar General. Ann also found another road-trash teal necklace, which nicely matches Laurey’s toe polish.
I Got the SAG Drivin’ Blues
SAG drivin’ is my retirement gig
And Little Bo Peep’s my official rig
Gassed up, stocked full, but the flock bemoans
Same ‘ole stuff, please stop the cheetos and candy cones.
Then there’s Ann, the OCD SAG driver from hell
Makes every last one wash thoroughly with Purell
Before they touch a scoop or the water jug nozzle
Those hands damn better be antiseptically sterile.
Fillin’ the jugs a real pain in the butt
End of day, SAGGY’s tired, and in a real huff
Out of nowhere Dave from Dallas materializes
Wants to help with the ice and SAGGY realizes
This is not all bad, it will lighten the load
Sherri helps me dump Dave before I implode.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Micturation moment or prophylactic pee
Full bladder on the saddle, quite painful, don’t ‘cha see
What will the SAGGY come up with today
Flush toilets, big trees, many options to weigh.
Sorry to say, scrub brush and grass all I see
Not perfect conditions to take that PP
Truckers rumblin’ their rigs and havin’ some fun
As our big, white bottoms flash in the sun.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Oversee the whole flock, what a SAG driver’s for
High winds, tornado warnings, unleashed dogs galore
Despite good intentions and safe miles ridden
Bumps, bruises, and road rash are daily a given.
Track crossings are tricky takin’ two riders down
Fifty mile crosswinds send Donna airborne
Elisabeth’s light bike and weight like a feather
Make her a casualty in such horrible weather.
Laurey decides to discard her arm warmers
While riding full speed down a hill, she’s a charmer
An intimate encounter with handlebars and gravel
Michael rescues, bike mends, a short break from travel.
We pick ‘em up, douse their wounds with good stuff
And send ‘em back out ‘cause they ain’t had enough
At the end of the day we recount all the trials
Each telling, the stories, they become oh so wild.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Hallucinatin’ all mornin’ ‘bout crawfish etoufee
Bring on Mama Jack’s, if I don’t say
Dyin’ for more crawfish, but I’m not gonna sin
Goin’ back down the road to look for Marilyn.
She’s takin’ photos of old buildings, gettin’ chased by dogs
Or listenin’ to the chirps of the big bull frogs
Gotta get to dinner, pedal fast as she’s able
Chef Linda’s got the goods waitin’ on the table.
My SAG drivin’ days are comin’ to a quick end
Goodness gracious, it’s just around the next bend
The flock will soon scatter to all corners of the country
Where individually we’ll attempt to make a re-entry.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues, oh yeah
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Not much of interest to report about the ride itself. It was a short mileage day heading into our last rest day. Flat, straight roads with tall pine on both sides. However, the destination, Wakulla Springs State Park, is a gem. A kind and patient woman agreed to take pictures of our group with each of our cameras.
Carol, Donna, Peggy, Marni, Mary Jo, Elisabeth, MarilynThe Lodge was built by financier Edward Ball in the 1930’s on land surrounding a natural spring. His philosophy from the beginning was to preserve the spring in as natural a state as possible and the philosophy still holds. The Lodge itself has been beautifully preserved, particularly the common rooms.
Of particular note is the ceiling, fabricated from heart cypress, or cypress that has been immersed in water or 50 years or longer making it impervious to rot. The ceiling was originally planned to be plain cypress. However, shortly after completion of the Lodge, Ball was approached by a German man who proposed painting “nice designs” on the ceiling. It was later revealed that Mr. Piplack was the last court painter for Kaiser Wilhelm. The painted scenes combine European folk art, and Native American and local wildlife scenes.
A massive fireplace is the focal point of the lobby. It is constructed of cement, poured on site, to simulate real stonework.
It is a tradition from previous years’ trips that there be a Talent, uh, Variety Show during the last rest layover. Tonight was the big night. Almost everyone managed to come up with some manner of performance. Peggy and Elisabeth performed mostly original lyrics to the tune of “My Favorite Things”.
Peggy, Elisabeth, Chef Linda, LoisRecently Laurey petitioned the SAG drivers to be designated an “honorary SAG” as she helps with dish duty most nights. The SAG drivers deliberated for several days, mostly to keep Laurey in a high state of anticipation, but also to give Ann an opportunity to find an appropriate tiara at a Dollar General. Ann also found another road-trash teal necklace, which nicely matches Laurey’s toe polish.
I dearly missed Michelle for my performance, as she is a wonderful guitar player and I could have used the accompaniment. Here is my piece:
I Got the SAG Drivin’ Blues
SAG drivin’ is my retirement gig
And Little Bo Peep’s my official rig
Gassed up, stocked full, but the flock bemoans
Same ‘ole stuff, please stop the cheetos and candy cones.
Then there’s Ann, the OCD SAG driver from hell
Makes every last one wash thoroughly with Purell
Before they touch a scoop or the water jug nozzle
Those hands damn better be antiseptically sterile.
Fillin’ the jugs a real pain in the butt
End of day, SAGGY’s tired, and in a real huff
Out of nowhere Dave from Dallas materializes
Wants to help with the ice and SAGGY realizes
This is not all bad, it will lighten the load
Sherri helps me dump Dave before I implode.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Micturation moment or prophylactic pee
Full bladder on the saddle, quite painful, don’t ‘cha see
What will the SAGGY come up with today
Flush toilets, big trees, many options to weigh.
Sorry to say, scrub brush and grass all I see
Not perfect conditions to take that PP
Truckers rumblin’ their rigs and havin’ some fun
As our big, white bottoms flash in the sun.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Oversee the whole flock, what a SAG driver’s for
High winds, tornado warnings, unleashed dogs galore
Despite good intentions and safe miles ridden
Bumps, bruises, and road rash are daily a given.
Track crossings are tricky takin’ two riders down
Fifty mile crosswinds send Donna airborne
Elisabeth’s light bike and weight like a feather
Make her a casualty in such horrible weather.
Laurey decides to discard her arm warmers
While riding full speed down a hill, she’s a charmer
An intimate encounter with handlebars and gravel
Michael rescues, bike mends, a short break from travel.
We pick ‘em up, douse their wounds with good stuff
And send ‘em back out ‘cause they ain’t had enough
At the end of the day we recount all the trials
Each telling, the stories, they become oh so wild.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Hallucinatin’ all mornin’ ‘bout crawfish etoufee
Bring on Mama Jack’s, if I don’t say
Dyin’ for more crawfish, but I’m not gonna sin
Goin’ back down the road to look for Marilyn.
She’s takin’ photos of old buildings, gettin’ chased by dogs
Or listenin’ to the chirps of the big bull frogs
Gotta get to dinner, pedal fast as she’s able
Chef Linda’s got the goods waitin’ on the table.
My SAG drivin’ days are comin’ to a quick end
Goodness gracious, it’s just around the next bend
The flock will soon scatter to all corners of the country
Where individually we’ll attempt to make a re-entry.
I got the SAG drivin’ blues, oh yeah
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Day 50, April 24: Marianna to Quincy, FL
0 of 54 miles—SAG driver
The day began innocuously enough. All, you read it here, ALL of the riders were ready to go at 7:30. There was a short delay due to foggy conditions and the troops were getting restless. Finally, the ALL CLEAR was given at 7:45 at which time Marilyn, who was ready to go and has never, I repeat NEVER, made it out within a half hour of the rest of the group, discovered she didn’t have her flashing rear reflector on her bike. Now, normally, this would not be a problem as her luggage is always the last to load. However, as luck would have it, today her luggage was intermingled with everyone else’s. Those of us waiting for the clean getaway were clearly crestfallen. We convinced Marilyn that there was very little fog and that it would clear completely within minutes (it did), and she was on her way.
I merrily set up my SAG stop at 18 miles thinking the day was going along just peachily. On the way to SAG #2 at around 40 miles, the call came in from Command Central. REALLY Command Central; that is, Rochester, NY. Jennifer from WomanTours was contacted by a woman whose boyfriend was biking our route this morning and bitten by one of three chasing dogs. The woman happened to have spoken with some of our riders at the hotel last night and had previously done a Womantours trip, so she knew how to contact WT. Once her boyfriend was cared for, she called the WT office to alert them. Jennifer had a precise description of the location of the quasi-abandoned house and the dogs. Meanwhile, Carol, our trip leader, made her way to the house and determined that the biting dog had been taken away by Animal Control and the owner had agreed to keep the other two dogs inside for a couple of hours to allow our riders to pass through.
I set up shop just west of the “crime scene” to give the riders a heads up. Being the South, you just know that the remaining two dogs would be unleased, once again, as soon as Animal Control left the premises. They were. However, all riders made it through without major incident except Marilyn. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to locate Marilyn for about three hours and, therefore, she was unwarned about said dogs despite two cell phone messages. When she stopped to take a photo of the “interesting old house”, the dogs barked, chased, and scared the bejesus out of her.
Only one more SAG drivin’ day—I wonder what new surprises and wonders await!
The day began innocuously enough. All, you read it here, ALL of the riders were ready to go at 7:30. There was a short delay due to foggy conditions and the troops were getting restless. Finally, the ALL CLEAR was given at 7:45 at which time Marilyn, who was ready to go and has never, I repeat NEVER, made it out within a half hour of the rest of the group, discovered she didn’t have her flashing rear reflector on her bike. Now, normally, this would not be a problem as her luggage is always the last to load. However, as luck would have it, today her luggage was intermingled with everyone else’s. Those of us waiting for the clean getaway were clearly crestfallen. We convinced Marilyn that there was very little fog and that it would clear completely within minutes (it did), and she was on her way.
I merrily set up my SAG stop at 18 miles thinking the day was going along just peachily. On the way to SAG #2 at around 40 miles, the call came in from Command Central. REALLY Command Central; that is, Rochester, NY. Jennifer from WomanTours was contacted by a woman whose boyfriend was biking our route this morning and bitten by one of three chasing dogs. The woman happened to have spoken with some of our riders at the hotel last night and had previously done a Womantours trip, so she knew how to contact WT. Once her boyfriend was cared for, she called the WT office to alert them. Jennifer had a precise description of the location of the quasi-abandoned house and the dogs. Meanwhile, Carol, our trip leader, made her way to the house and determined that the biting dog had been taken away by Animal Control and the owner had agreed to keep the other two dogs inside for a couple of hours to allow our riders to pass through.
I set up shop just west of the “crime scene” to give the riders a heads up. Being the South, you just know that the remaining two dogs would be unleased, once again, as soon as Animal Control left the premises. They were. However, all riders made it through without major incident except Marilyn. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to locate Marilyn for about three hours and, therefore, she was unwarned about said dogs despite two cell phone messages. When she stopped to take a photo of the “interesting old house”, the dogs barked, chased, and scared the bejesus out of her.
Only one more SAG drivin’ day—I wonder what new surprises and wonders await!
Day 49, April 23: Crestview to Marianna, FL
101 of 93 miles
My first century! When the chance for a century evaporated on the wind tunnel route to Del Rio, Texas, I decided that, if conditions were right, I would lengthen a future ride to achieve a century. With today’s route a planned 93 miles, it was the perfect opportunity.
The group left the hotel parking lot at 6:45 am in an attempt to get in some precious miles before the heat became oppressive. By 9 am it was hot, and then it got MORE HOT. Pick your pleasure: rain, wind, tornado, heat—as Gilda used to say, “It’s always something.”. I took a food break at 60 miles to ease the various sore points (hands, knees, feet, butt) and, when I got to 80, I knew I could make it. Jan Bee had agreed to keep me company. Jan is a veteran of a century or two or three and is the elder statesperson of the trip at 70. We cooled off in the hotel’s AC for a moment or two before heading out for the final eight miles. Thanks, Jan!
There was a cheering party gathered for us at the end—one of our traditions.
The Proof!
My first century! When the chance for a century evaporated on the wind tunnel route to Del Rio, Texas, I decided that, if conditions were right, I would lengthen a future ride to achieve a century. With today’s route a planned 93 miles, it was the perfect opportunity.
The group left the hotel parking lot at 6:45 am in an attempt to get in some precious miles before the heat became oppressive. By 9 am it was hot, and then it got MORE HOT. Pick your pleasure: rain, wind, tornado, heat—as Gilda used to say, “It’s always something.”. I took a food break at 60 miles to ease the various sore points (hands, knees, feet, butt) and, when I got to 80, I knew I could make it. Jan Bee had agreed to keep me company. Jan is a veteran of a century or two or three and is the elder statesperson of the trip at 70. We cooled off in the hotel’s AC for a moment or two before heading out for the final eight miles. Thanks, Jan!
There was a cheering party gathered for us at the end—one of our traditions.
The Proof!Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Day 48, April 22: Pensacola to Crestview, FL
56 of 56 miles
There are, indeed, some hills in Florida. They were not big hills, mind you, but they did require a modicum of exertion. The most noteworthy part of the ride was a 6.5-mile bike path teeming with bird life and smelling sweetly of honeysuckle. I saw dozens of cardinals and a couple of bluebirds.
Much of the ride was through farmland where we came across these self-described “habberknockers.” I have no idea what this means so I hope it’s not offensive. They were hunting turkeys and repairing the fence around “the little woman’s garden.”
We also came along this aptly-named lane.
There are, indeed, some hills in Florida. They were not big hills, mind you, but they did require a modicum of exertion. The most noteworthy part of the ride was a 6.5-mile bike path teeming with bird life and smelling sweetly of honeysuckle. I saw dozens of cardinals and a couple of bluebirds.
Much of the ride was through farmland where we came across these self-described “habberknockers.” I have no idea what this means so I hope it’s not offensive. They were hunting turkeys and repairing the fence around “the little woman’s garden.”
We also came along this aptly-named lane.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Day 47, April 21: Dauphin Island, AL to Pensacola, FL
70 of 70 miles
A three-mile ride this morning brought us to the ferry connecting Dauphin Island with the east side of Mobile Bay. It was a pleasant 30-minute trip in perfect weather.
The next almost 40 miles were along barrier beaches with nice views of the Gulf and tidal marshes. Toward the end of this stretch, we crossed into Florida, the eighth state of the trip and the last state crossing. In light of my full disclosure policy, there was a pretty darn good tailwind today. Yes, you read correctly, a TAILWIND. What a difference it makes!
We passed through the heart of Pensacola, a town where the military presence is virtually everywhere, on the way to our hotel. This is Mary Jo, whose son was a Marine.
A three-mile ride this morning brought us to the ferry connecting Dauphin Island with the east side of Mobile Bay. It was a pleasant 30-minute trip in perfect weather.
The next almost 40 miles were along barrier beaches with nice views of the Gulf and tidal marshes. Toward the end of this stretch, we crossed into Florida, the eighth state of the trip and the last state crossing. In light of my full disclosure policy, there was a pretty darn good tailwind today. Yes, you read correctly, a TAILWIND. What a difference it makes!
We passed through the heart of Pensacola, a town where the military presence is virtually everywhere, on the way to our hotel. This is Mary Jo, whose son was a Marine.
Day 46, April 20: Dauphin Island, AL
13 of 13 miles—Rest day
This was the most restful of our off days thus far. We had an early arrival yesterday that facilitated completion of the mundane, albeit necessary, tasks—laundry and bike cleaning, while allowing for some catch-up sleep.
Five of us visited the Audubon bird sanctuary this morning—we had a grand time. Ann and Peggy are accomplished birders and helped us identify both a male and female summer tanager. There was also a large blue heron specimen staring watchfully over a pond while several turtles basked in the sun.
Jan, Marilyn, Carol, and Ann
Indigo plants dotted the sides of the trails.
We are staying on a tiny barrier island connected to the mainland by a graceful arching bridge. The beach sand is pure white and as fine as I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, natural gas platforms dot the horizon offshore—a shame.
What would a trip be without the requisite sunset over water photo? This one will have to do.
This was the most restful of our off days thus far. We had an early arrival yesterday that facilitated completion of the mundane, albeit necessary, tasks—laundry and bike cleaning, while allowing for some catch-up sleep.
Five of us visited the Audubon bird sanctuary this morning—we had a grand time. Ann and Peggy are accomplished birders and helped us identify both a male and female summer tanager. There was also a large blue heron specimen staring watchfully over a pond while several turtles basked in the sun.
Jan, Marilyn, Carol, and Ann Indigo plants dotted the sides of the trails.
We are staying on a tiny barrier island connected to the mainland by a graceful arching bridge. The beach sand is pure white and as fine as I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, natural gas platforms dot the horizon offshore—a shame.
What would a trip be without the requisite sunset over water photo? This one will have to do.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Day 45, April 19: Pascagoula, MA to Dauphin Island, AL
0 of 42 miles—SAG driver
This was a rolling rest day heading into a rest day and, by far, the easiest day of my SAG driving career. A large weather system has threatened the region. Once again, we beat the odds and didn’t get a drop of rain. The trip leaders have dubbed this year’s ST ride as the “windy one”. I believe we would all affirm the correctness of that evaluation.
In yet another slow news day, crossing a state line might be the big event of the day.
Most riders stopped at Barnacle Bill’s for lunch, located on the island side of a long and high bridge connecting the mainland to Dauphin Island. We were in our Gulf-frontage condos by early afternoon just as the thick cloud cover began to clear. It will be a great spot for the rest day tomorrow.
It’s margarita night, prepared by trip leader Carol, due to the state line crossing.
Chef Linda prepared a tasty jambalaya.
Lois, sous chef and rider, sported yet another gorgeous necklace found by Ann on the highway shoulder.
This was a rolling rest day heading into a rest day and, by far, the easiest day of my SAG driving career. A large weather system has threatened the region. Once again, we beat the odds and didn’t get a drop of rain. The trip leaders have dubbed this year’s ST ride as the “windy one”. I believe we would all affirm the correctness of that evaluation.
In yet another slow news day, crossing a state line might be the big event of the day.
Most riders stopped at Barnacle Bill’s for lunch, located on the island side of a long and high bridge connecting the mainland to Dauphin Island. We were in our Gulf-frontage condos by early afternoon just as the thick cloud cover began to clear. It will be a great spot for the rest day tomorrow.
It’s margarita night, prepared by trip leader Carol, due to the state line crossing.
Chef Linda prepared a tasty jambalaya.
Lois, sous chef and rider, sported yet another gorgeous necklace found by Ann on the highway shoulder.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Day 44, April 18: Wiggins to Pascagoula, MS
68 of 68 miles
A weather front with high winds and heavy rain was predicted to move through starting this afternoon, so we were on the road by 7 am in an attempt to beat it. We did get the wind, a headwind, of course. However, as of 10 pm, still no rain and the sky is clear with some spotty clouds. I don’t think we will be as fortunate tomorrow.
Today was another “dog day”. There were many, many barking dogs along the route, all behind fences or otherwise restrained, with one exception. That was the seven medium-sized mutts who raced out to circle Mary Jo, Donna, and me. I did the guttural “NO”, while MJ and Donna tried the loud whistle approach. Donna had one dog nipping at her ankles, but I managed to keep them at bay with my loud command.
We had a long and high bridge crossing the port as we entered Pascagoula. We battled high winds as we glanced at the white-capped river far below.
It’s been kind of a slow news day without much excitement, and I didn’t take my camera along for the ride due to the predicted storm. Therefore, my sole picture of the day is of Sherry helping with dish duty tonight. It is the responsibility of the SAG drivers to do the dishes, but many of the women have chipped in to help as we’re all exhausted at the end of the day. The SAG drivers truly appreciate their help. Tonight Sherry was sporting one of the “gems” that Ann, one of the SAG drivers, routinely picks up from the pavement on her rides, a lovely faux pearl necklace. Ann is very discriminating in the items that she chooses to retrieve. Her necklace collection adorns the necks of many of our riders and she has picked up many other useful items such as a 2 x 4 and a piece of rubber tire, which help to balance the water jugs in the back of the SAG wagon.
A weather front with high winds and heavy rain was predicted to move through starting this afternoon, so we were on the road by 7 am in an attempt to beat it. We did get the wind, a headwind, of course. However, as of 10 pm, still no rain and the sky is clear with some spotty clouds. I don’t think we will be as fortunate tomorrow.
Today was another “dog day”. There were many, many barking dogs along the route, all behind fences or otherwise restrained, with one exception. That was the seven medium-sized mutts who raced out to circle Mary Jo, Donna, and me. I did the guttural “NO”, while MJ and Donna tried the loud whistle approach. Donna had one dog nipping at her ankles, but I managed to keep them at bay with my loud command.
We had a long and high bridge crossing the port as we entered Pascagoula. We battled high winds as we glanced at the white-capped river far below.
It’s been kind of a slow news day without much excitement, and I didn’t take my camera along for the ride due to the predicted storm. Therefore, my sole picture of the day is of Sherry helping with dish duty tonight. It is the responsibility of the SAG drivers to do the dishes, but many of the women have chipped in to help as we’re all exhausted at the end of the day. The SAG drivers truly appreciate their help. Tonight Sherry was sporting one of the “gems” that Ann, one of the SAG drivers, routinely picks up from the pavement on her rides, a lovely faux pearl necklace. Ann is very discriminating in the items that she chooses to retrieve. Her necklace collection adorns the necks of many of our riders and she has picked up many other useful items such as a 2 x 4 and a piece of rubber tire, which help to balance the water jugs in the back of the SAG wagon.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Day 43, April 17: Bogalusa, LA to Wiggins, MS
61 of 61 miles
Within the first few miles this morning, we were in Mississippi. There are many things one might say about Mississippi, and two of those are that it has a LOT of Baptist churches and a LOT of unsecured dogs. At our cue sheet meeting last evening, two route options were offered: a shorter route that, for 25 miles, follows a busy highway frequented by wood chip trucks, or a route longer by 10 miles that meanders through country roads where dogs bit a rider or two on the ST trip last year. Hummm, wood chips flying at my head or dogs’ teeth chomping at my ankles. A tough decision.
I voted to go with the dogs, figuring that I could muster up that loud, guttural “NO”, as recommended and demonstrated by Chef Linda, to stop the beasts dead in their tracks. I also rode in a group of five, hoping for safety in numbers. After all the hype about potential dog problems, there was only one who did pose a threat. This dog seemingly came out of nowhere, going right for my left leg. I let out the aforementioned “NO” in my most intimidating voice. The dog suspended for a moment in mid-air, landed on the asphalt in full belly-flop position, and slid several feet before stopping. The dog looked completely shocked and befuddled, and likely has a severe abdominal road rash as a reward for its crass behavior.
The terrain changed from the predominantly flat of Louisiana to some gently rolling hills as we got further into Mississippi. We passed a couple of beautifully manicured horse farms, and even a llama ranch where we saw this mom with her young'un.
Within the first few miles this morning, we were in Mississippi. There are many things one might say about Mississippi, and two of those are that it has a LOT of Baptist churches and a LOT of unsecured dogs. At our cue sheet meeting last evening, two route options were offered: a shorter route that, for 25 miles, follows a busy highway frequented by wood chip trucks, or a route longer by 10 miles that meanders through country roads where dogs bit a rider or two on the ST trip last year. Hummm, wood chips flying at my head or dogs’ teeth chomping at my ankles. A tough decision.
I voted to go with the dogs, figuring that I could muster up that loud, guttural “NO”, as recommended and demonstrated by Chef Linda, to stop the beasts dead in their tracks. I also rode in a group of five, hoping for safety in numbers. After all the hype about potential dog problems, there was only one who did pose a threat. This dog seemingly came out of nowhere, going right for my left leg. I let out the aforementioned “NO” in my most intimidating voice. The dog suspended for a moment in mid-air, landed on the asphalt in full belly-flop position, and slid several feet before stopping. The dog looked completely shocked and befuddled, and likely has a severe abdominal road rash as a reward for its crass behavior.
The terrain changed from the predominantly flat of Louisiana to some gently rolling hills as we got further into Mississippi. We passed a couple of beautifully manicured horse farms, and even a llama ranch where we saw this mom with her young'un.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Day 42, April 16: Hammond to Bogalusa, LA
58 of 58 miles
The route passed by the Global Wildlife Center, a 900-acre park that features grazing animals. A few of us hitched a ride in with a staff person, bikes included, but we were unable to secure admission as it was school vacation week and the facility was packed with every manner of excited children. I did manage to get quite a shock when I got too close to the electrical fence to take a photo. The fences are electrified not to keep the park’s animals in but, rather, to keep the coyotes out.
The only other “highlight” of the day was passing by the Uneedus Superdome.
The route passed by the Global Wildlife Center, a 900-acre park that features grazing animals. A few of us hitched a ride in with a staff person, bikes included, but we were unable to secure admission as it was school vacation week and the facility was packed with every manner of excited children. I did manage to get quite a shock when I got too close to the electrical fence to take a photo. The fences are electrified not to keep the park’s animals in but, rather, to keep the coyotes out.
The only other “highlight” of the day was passing by the Uneedus Superdome.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Day 41, April 15: St. Francisville to Hammond, LA
0 of 87 miles—SAG driver
Since I didn’t ride my bike today and the scenery was rather sketchy, it might be a good time to venture into discussion of the responsibilities that consume the time and thoughts of the SAG driver.
Example one, finding a perfect SAG stop. Now, some might think this to be a rather trivial detail. However, there are many things to consider. First and foremost, is there a place to relieve one self, preferably a public restroom, but a large tree will do? Can the riders easily see the SAG wagon? Are there menacing dogs about or fire ant mounds to wander into? Is the site scenic or does it have any other redeeming features? Is the mileage location close to the expectations of the riders?
I’m here to report that I failed on virtually all measures for my first SAG stop today. I parked the wagon on what appeared to be a quiet dirt road in front of a volunteer fire department. What I didn’t realize was that the dirt road led to the local gravel and sand pit with huge trucks going in and out at an alarming rate and speed. It also happened to be immediately adjacent to a very large Louisiana State penitentiary. And, to top it off, there were no obvious micturation spots other than between the passenger and rear car doors, a fact that doesn’t bother a good number of people.
I had a couple of trucks from the prison come to pay me a visit. They were satisfied to learn that I had no firearms in my vehicle and went on their way. Up the gravel road, I saw a cloud of dust as a loaded truck barreled toward us. Suddenly the truck pulled to a stop and the driver hopped out and introduced himself. His name was Jimmy, from Zachary, LA. Jimmy was interested in hearing all about our journey and, as is usually the case, he had several riders more than willing to fill him in on the details. Someone asked him if he could recommend a place in Zachary to have lunch. Jimmy’s reply was that he’s just a country boy and doesn’t eat out much. I insisted on getting a picture of Jimmy with his rig, and told him that his photo would be on the internet. He assured me that he would check it out. A sweet man.
Because today was a high-mileage riding day, it was a long day for me. On such days, riders are spread over long distances, and I track their progress to assure their safety and to ensure that they are adequately supplied with water and snacks. On my first pass through Watson, I checked out this crawfish joint and began to hallucinate about what a great lunch I would have today. It was not to be as there was simply no time for lunch.
SAG drivers also help to clarify route directions that might not match those provided on the cue sheet. My third SAG stop was at the turn for Mary Kinchen Road. Since the sign for said road was buried in the ditch, I parked the wagon at the turn so riders wouldn’t miss it.
A reporter from the local paper joined us for dinner tonight. She had run into Jan and Marni today at a strawberry stand, agreed to deliver the berries they had purchased to the hotel, and brought an additional flat as well. She also interviewed several riders who are raising funds for various causes.
Another duty of the SAG driver is to restock the wagon for the next day’s use, a relatively straightforward task. However, there are two five-gallon water coolers that need to be refilled with water and ice, then lugged from the hotel to the wagon—easily my least favorite part of the job. And, on a really long day like today, it’s hard to muster up the energy to get it done until after dinner. Tonight I lucked out. Dave, from Dallas, was just finishing his workout in the hotel gym as I ventured into the lobby in quest of the ice machine. He insisted on carrying the filled coolers. I gave him a “tour” of the SAG wagon. Thanks, Dave.
Then the cycle repeats. Three days of riding, one day of SAG-ing, with a rest day sprinkled in about once a week.
Since I didn’t ride my bike today and the scenery was rather sketchy, it might be a good time to venture into discussion of the responsibilities that consume the time and thoughts of the SAG driver.
Example one, finding a perfect SAG stop. Now, some might think this to be a rather trivial detail. However, there are many things to consider. First and foremost, is there a place to relieve one self, preferably a public restroom, but a large tree will do? Can the riders easily see the SAG wagon? Are there menacing dogs about or fire ant mounds to wander into? Is the site scenic or does it have any other redeeming features? Is the mileage location close to the expectations of the riders?
I’m here to report that I failed on virtually all measures for my first SAG stop today. I parked the wagon on what appeared to be a quiet dirt road in front of a volunteer fire department. What I didn’t realize was that the dirt road led to the local gravel and sand pit with huge trucks going in and out at an alarming rate and speed. It also happened to be immediately adjacent to a very large Louisiana State penitentiary. And, to top it off, there were no obvious micturation spots other than between the passenger and rear car doors, a fact that doesn’t bother a good number of people.
I had a couple of trucks from the prison come to pay me a visit. They were satisfied to learn that I had no firearms in my vehicle and went on their way. Up the gravel road, I saw a cloud of dust as a loaded truck barreled toward us. Suddenly the truck pulled to a stop and the driver hopped out and introduced himself. His name was Jimmy, from Zachary, LA. Jimmy was interested in hearing all about our journey and, as is usually the case, he had several riders more than willing to fill him in on the details. Someone asked him if he could recommend a place in Zachary to have lunch. Jimmy’s reply was that he’s just a country boy and doesn’t eat out much. I insisted on getting a picture of Jimmy with his rig, and told him that his photo would be on the internet. He assured me that he would check it out. A sweet man.
Because today was a high-mileage riding day, it was a long day for me. On such days, riders are spread over long distances, and I track their progress to assure their safety and to ensure that they are adequately supplied with water and snacks. On my first pass through Watson, I checked out this crawfish joint and began to hallucinate about what a great lunch I would have today. It was not to be as there was simply no time for lunch.
SAG drivers also help to clarify route directions that might not match those provided on the cue sheet. My third SAG stop was at the turn for Mary Kinchen Road. Since the sign for said road was buried in the ditch, I parked the wagon at the turn so riders wouldn’t miss it.
A reporter from the local paper joined us for dinner tonight. She had run into Jan and Marni today at a strawberry stand, agreed to deliver the berries they had purchased to the hotel, and brought an additional flat as well. She also interviewed several riders who are raising funds for various causes.
Another duty of the SAG driver is to restock the wagon for the next day’s use, a relatively straightforward task. However, there are two five-gallon water coolers that need to be refilled with water and ice, then lugged from the hotel to the wagon—easily my least favorite part of the job. And, on a really long day like today, it’s hard to muster up the energy to get it done until after dinner. Tonight I lucked out. Dave, from Dallas, was just finishing his workout in the hotel gym as I ventured into the lobby in quest of the ice machine. He insisted on carrying the filled coolers. I gave him a “tour” of the SAG wagon. Thanks, Dave.
Then the cycle repeats. Three days of riding, one day of SAG-ing, with a rest day sprinkled in about once a week.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Day 40, April 14: St. Francisville, LA
21 of 21 miles—Rest Day
St. Francisville is a lovely place to spend a rest day with many nicely restored homes in its historic district and several antebellum homes open to the public. I stayed in a small B&B in town with a few other riders, while most of the group were in cottages at the Butler-Greenwood Plantation, still in the same family after more than 200 years.
Most of us avoid use of our bikes on the rest day. Today it was a necessity to do so as it was the only transportation available. The miles today will help to compensate for the high wind days when I missed a few.
The Grace Episcopal Church dates from 1827. It was shelled during the Civil War and restored in the 1880’s.
The Oakley Plantation was established in 1806 by the Pirrie family when the area was part of Spanish West Florida. In 1821 they hired J.J. Audubon to come to Oakley to tutor their daughter. Although he stayed at Oakley less than four months, he painted 32 of his Birds of America there, many of which hang in the museum and main house.
Bathtub
Gus, quite the handsome fellow
The entrance to this private home is stately.
Butler-Greenwood Plantation
St. Francisville is a lovely place to spend a rest day with many nicely restored homes in its historic district and several antebellum homes open to the public. I stayed in a small B&B in town with a few other riders, while most of the group were in cottages at the Butler-Greenwood Plantation, still in the same family after more than 200 years.
Most of us avoid use of our bikes on the rest day. Today it was a necessity to do so as it was the only transportation available. The miles today will help to compensate for the high wind days when I missed a few.
The Grace Episcopal Church dates from 1827. It was shelled during the Civil War and restored in the 1880’s.
The Oakley Plantation was established in 1806 by the Pirrie family when the area was part of Spanish West Florida. In 1821 they hired J.J. Audubon to come to Oakley to tutor their daughter. Although he stayed at Oakley less than four months, he painted 32 of his Birds of America there, many of which hang in the museum and main house.
Bathtub
Gus, quite the handsome fellowThe entrance to this private home is stately.
Butler-Greenwood Plantation Monday, April 13, 2009
Day 39, April 13: Lafayette to St. Francisville, LA
84 of 84 miles
There were several interesting interludes today that helped to break up the tedium of long mileage through farmland and flat terrain. We traversed French-influenced Louisiana, with road names such as La Rue France and La Jaune Roads. About mid-ride we crossed a very high bridge over the Atchafalaya River, a dark muddy color from the spring runoff. Immediately after, we encountered the Morganza Spillway, a 3.5 mile, two-lane bridge over wetlands with no shoulder. The plan devised in advance by the trip leader called for the SAG wagon to follow behind the group of paired riders to discourage anxious vehicles from passing hastily or cutting riders off. It would have been interesting to have a video of the whole production, and it went off flawlessly.
The severe weather that moved through the area yesterday was largely gone. However, around noon, the sky to the east blackened and we could see sheets of rain falling in the distance. Around the next curve in the road, a large farm came into view and we made a beeline for the barn where a number of farmhands were busy with their projects. Perfect timing, as it rained heavily for several minutes. Where, yesterday, we passed primarily crawfish farms and rice fields, here the crops are sugar cane and sweet potatoes.
Soon we were on our way again, none the worse for wear, and anxiously anticipating the lunch stop at Not Your Mama’s Café. We were not disappointed. I shared a crawfish Po’Boy with Lois and had a taste of Jan's crawfish etoufee that was perfectly spiced and generously portioned.
The next highlight was the ferry over the Mississippi River which runs on the quarter and three-quarter hour. It was 15 miles from the lunch stop and I conservatively allotted 90 minutes to account for photo ops and water sips. A few miles into the ride, it became clear to me that I had a decent tailwind and I could conceivably make the earlier boat. However, if I miscalculated, I would sit in the hot sun for almost a half hour until the next ferry. I went into sprint mode for about 10 miles and made the earlier boat with a minute of two to spare. Rarely do I move so quickly. The crossing of the Mississippi was one of the key moments I will remember from this journey—so much more interesting to cross on a ferry than over a bridge.
There were several interesting interludes today that helped to break up the tedium of long mileage through farmland and flat terrain. We traversed French-influenced Louisiana, with road names such as La Rue France and La Jaune Roads. About mid-ride we crossed a very high bridge over the Atchafalaya River, a dark muddy color from the spring runoff. Immediately after, we encountered the Morganza Spillway, a 3.5 mile, two-lane bridge over wetlands with no shoulder. The plan devised in advance by the trip leader called for the SAG wagon to follow behind the group of paired riders to discourage anxious vehicles from passing hastily or cutting riders off. It would have been interesting to have a video of the whole production, and it went off flawlessly.
The severe weather that moved through the area yesterday was largely gone. However, around noon, the sky to the east blackened and we could see sheets of rain falling in the distance. Around the next curve in the road, a large farm came into view and we made a beeline for the barn where a number of farmhands were busy with their projects. Perfect timing, as it rained heavily for several minutes. Where, yesterday, we passed primarily crawfish farms and rice fields, here the crops are sugar cane and sweet potatoes.
Soon we were on our way again, none the worse for wear, and anxiously anticipating the lunch stop at Not Your Mama’s Café. We were not disappointed. I shared a crawfish Po’Boy with Lois and had a taste of Jan's crawfish etoufee that was perfectly spiced and generously portioned.
The next highlight was the ferry over the Mississippi River which runs on the quarter and three-quarter hour. It was 15 miles from the lunch stop and I conservatively allotted 90 minutes to account for photo ops and water sips. A few miles into the ride, it became clear to me that I had a decent tailwind and I could conceivably make the earlier boat. However, if I miscalculated, I would sit in the hot sun for almost a half hour until the next ferry. I went into sprint mode for about 10 miles and made the earlier boat with a minute of two to spare. Rarely do I move so quickly. The crossing of the Mississippi was one of the key moments I will remember from this journey—so much more interesting to cross on a ferry than over a bridge.
The nearest bridges to this crossing are 25 miles in one direction and 60 miles in the other. A bridge connecting New Roads to St. Francisville is currently under construction with an expected completion date of 2010. It is likely that the ferry will be discontinued at that time. A shame, and sure to change the charm of the towns on both sides of the river.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Day 38, April 12: Lake Charles to Lafayette, LA
25 of 83 miles
A severe weather front moved through the area today with high winds, pelting rain, hail, lightening, and tornado warnings. After 25 miles in stiff headwinds with very strong gusts, I loaded my bike on the van and jumped in just as the raindrops began to pick up with ominous clouds on the horizon ahead.
Under other conditions, the route would have been quite scenic as the country roads passed through farmland, primarily rice fields and crawfish farms. In its own way, it was eerily beautiful, reminding me of how I enjoy watching the weather move in from the west from our hilltop in New Hampshire.
The positive aspect of a biking day cut short is an early arrival at the hotel. Being Easter Sunday, most businesses were in lock down mode. However, we did find a restaurant open for Easter buffet. I particularly enjoyed the corn crab bisque.
A severe weather front moved through the area today with high winds, pelting rain, hail, lightening, and tornado warnings. After 25 miles in stiff headwinds with very strong gusts, I loaded my bike on the van and jumped in just as the raindrops began to pick up with ominous clouds on the horizon ahead.
Under other conditions, the route would have been quite scenic as the country roads passed through farmland, primarily rice fields and crawfish farms. In its own way, it was eerily beautiful, reminding me of how I enjoy watching the weather move in from the west from our hilltop in New Hampshire.
The positive aspect of a biking day cut short is an early arrival at the hotel. Being Easter Sunday, most businesses were in lock down mode. However, we did find a restaurant open for Easter buffet. I particularly enjoyed the corn crab bisque.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Day 37, April11: Silsbee, TX to Lake Charles, LA
78 of 78 miles
First, a word or two to add from yesterday. A reporter from the Silsbee newspaper came by to interview several of us about the ride. Unfortunately for him, he arrived at the appointed dinner hour and he had to compete with the stampeding masses headed to the chow line. At least he caught us in a typical moment. We do tend to take our dinner quite seriously.
For the next three days we are on a route new to Womantours and, we learned at the get-go, some of the cue sheet mileage estimations are sketchy. Virtually the entire group made a turn too early first thing this morning resulting in an interesting portage of bikes and persons through tall grass (snake-infested, for the sake of the story,) and over railroad tracks. Back on route, we finally exited Texas to discover the joys of Louisiana.
While the roads in Louisiana are not chip seal, a huge improvement over Texas, they are poorly maintained and littered with trash. There are frequent and sometimes long bridges over bayous and marshy areas with no road shoulders, of concern given the number of large pickup trucks. I did, however, pass several patches of these beautiful spider lilies.
Tomorrow is Easter Sunday so, “God help us”, perhaps most people will be in church for a good portion of the day. The weather prediction is not good, with rain and severe thunderstorms likely, so I will be making decisions about safety conditions periodically as the day progresses.
First, a word or two to add from yesterday. A reporter from the Silsbee newspaper came by to interview several of us about the ride. Unfortunately for him, he arrived at the appointed dinner hour and he had to compete with the stampeding masses headed to the chow line. At least he caught us in a typical moment. We do tend to take our dinner quite seriously.
For the next three days we are on a route new to Womantours and, we learned at the get-go, some of the cue sheet mileage estimations are sketchy. Virtually the entire group made a turn too early first thing this morning resulting in an interesting portage of bikes and persons through tall grass (snake-infested, for the sake of the story,) and over railroad tracks. Back on route, we finally exited Texas to discover the joys of Louisiana.
While the roads in Louisiana are not chip seal, a huge improvement over Texas, they are poorly maintained and littered with trash. There are frequent and sometimes long bridges over bayous and marshy areas with no road shoulders, of concern given the number of large pickup trucks. I did, however, pass several patches of these beautiful spider lilies.
Tomorrow is Easter Sunday so, “God help us”, perhaps most people will be in church for a good portion of the day. The weather prediction is not good, with rain and severe thunderstorms likely, so I will be making decisions about safety conditions periodically as the day progresses.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Day 36, April 10: Cleveland to Silsbee, TX
0 of 64 miles—SAG driver
This was the last of 20 days in Texas. The terrain is flat, the trees are predominantly pine, the roads are runway straight and filled with logging trucks, the towns are rough and tumble, and it is beginning to get southern hot and humid.
The photo ops of the day were of the crawfish mounds that populate the soil and the raccoon tracks found nearby as they search out their prey.
Mama Jack’s serves a delicious crawfish etouffee which I sampled for lunch.
It was an easy day in the SAG driving biz as folks moved along at a good pace and everyone made it in safely.
This was the last of 20 days in Texas. The terrain is flat, the trees are predominantly pine, the roads are runway straight and filled with logging trucks, the towns are rough and tumble, and it is beginning to get southern hot and humid.
The photo ops of the day were of the crawfish mounds that populate the soil and the raccoon tracks found nearby as they search out their prey.
Mama Jack’s serves a delicious crawfish etouffee which I sampled for lunch.
It was an easy day in the SAG driving biz as folks moved along at a good pace and everyone made it in safely.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Day 35, April 9: Navasota to Cleveland, Tx
72 of 72 miles
Gentle hills, green pastures, and piney forests were the landscape themes today as we passed to the north of Houston. We rode for several miles through Sam Houston State Forest. The wildflower displays were greatly diminished from previous days, with yellow coreopsis seen most frequently.
I had a chance encounter with the Grimes County Sherriff, Mike, this morning when I stopped to shed layers of clothing. Mike and his partner, Dave Cook, happened to be stopped there as well, and they peppered me with questions about all the details of my ride. They were really good sports about posing for pictures. I was thrilled to meet a Sheriff with a cowboy hat.
Sheriff Mike and Dave
Gentle hills, green pastures, and piney forests were the landscape themes today as we passed to the north of Houston. We rode for several miles through Sam Houston State Forest. The wildflower displays were greatly diminished from previous days, with yellow coreopsis seen most frequently.
I had a chance encounter with the Grimes County Sherriff, Mike, this morning when I stopped to shed layers of clothing. Mike and his partner, Dave Cook, happened to be stopped there as well, and they peppered me with questions about all the details of my ride. They were really good sports about posing for pictures. I was thrilled to meet a Sheriff with a cowboy hat.
Sheriff Mike and Dave
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Day 34, April 8: Navasota, TX
Rest day
A great catch up day—cut hair, clean bike, chat, eat, sleep. They even have Texas-shaped waffles here, this one flipped to the wrong side, but you get the idea.
A great catch up day—cut hair, clean bike, chat, eat, sleep. They even have Texas-shaped waffles here, this one flipped to the wrong side, but you get the idea.
Day 33, April 7: La Grange to Navasota, TX
69 of 69 miles
This was the most beautiful of all the rides as wildflowers lined the roadsides and blanketed fields taking center stage, with the Texas bluebonnet the featured performer.
Our appetizers tonight included Texas-shaped tortilla chips. And, fittingly, one of the beer choices was a Tire Bite Golden Ale.
This was the most beautiful of all the rides as wildflowers lined the roadsides and blanketed fields taking center stage, with the Texas bluebonnet the featured performer.
Our appetizers tonight included Texas-shaped tortilla chips. And, fittingly, one of the beer choices was a Tire Bite Golden Ale.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Day 32, April 6: Bastrop to La Grange, TX
44 of 44 miles
The mileage today was short to allow some recovery from yesterday’s long ride. A 12-mile section in the morning wandered through Bastrop and Buescher State Parks where piney forests surrounded the narrow lanes. The hills were short and steep. One, which I walked to avoid toppling over, reached a 17 % grade for a short distance.
The remainder of the ride was on pleasant country lanes where I passed these three curious calves. The smallest one enjoyed licking salt from my fingers.
We arrived in the charming town of La Grange just as lunch hunger pangs began. A local woman recommended Prause’s Meat Market, which has a barbecue operation in the rear of the store. What a find! It was 1 pm and we learned that, unless you arrive before noon, the pickings are slim. I was able to snag the last two ribs—absolute delicacies. The owner took us on a “tour” of the barbecue pit room as he described his daily schedule. He is in the store by 6 am to start the fire, and the meat in on by 6:30. The meat cooks for a couple of hours after which it is slathered with barbecue sauce (not a secret formula, with pickle juice an important ingredient), wrapped in foil, and returned to the coals. It’s ready for the hungry masses by 11 am.
The wildflower displays are becoming more frequent and varied. However, the Texas bluebonnets are definitely center stage.
Boar thistle
Indian paintbrush, goatweed, and evening primrose
Add bluebonnets
And some gaillardia
The mileage today was short to allow some recovery from yesterday’s long ride. A 12-mile section in the morning wandered through Bastrop and Buescher State Parks where piney forests surrounded the narrow lanes. The hills were short and steep. One, which I walked to avoid toppling over, reached a 17 % grade for a short distance.
The remainder of the ride was on pleasant country lanes where I passed these three curious calves. The smallest one enjoyed licking salt from my fingers.
We arrived in the charming town of La Grange just as lunch hunger pangs began. A local woman recommended Prause’s Meat Market, which has a barbecue operation in the rear of the store. What a find! It was 1 pm and we learned that, unless you arrive before noon, the pickings are slim. I was able to snag the last two ribs—absolute delicacies. The owner took us on a “tour” of the barbecue pit room as he described his daily schedule. He is in the store by 6 am to start the fire, and the meat in on by 6:30. The meat cooks for a couple of hours after which it is slathered with barbecue sauce (not a secret formula, with pickle juice an important ingredient), wrapped in foil, and returned to the coals. It’s ready for the hungry masses by 11 am.
The wildflower displays are becoming more frequent and varied. However, the Texas bluebonnets are definitely center stage.
Boar thistle
Indian paintbrush, goatweed, and evening primrose
Add bluebonnets
And some gaillardia Day 31, April 5: Blanco to Bastrop, TX
0 of 93 miles—SAG driver
I don’t know which is harder, riding the bike for 93 miles or driving SAG for 93 miles. I was exhausted at the end of the day as were all of the riders. The winds were strong, 20 mph and gusting to 30, sometimes helping, sometimes hindering. There were hills, not of the major variety, but enough to get your attention. Almost all of the riders completed the day. And Robin, determined to ride her first century, continued riding around the block in town until she hit 100 miles. It was after 5 pm and she had been riding for the better part of 10 hours. Yeah, Robin!
I estimate that I put about 250 miles on the SAG wagon as I ferried back and forth between the frontrunners and our slowest rider. Our route took us just to the south of the congestion of Austin through the lovely town of Wimberly, with its restored stone buildings, and Lockhart, the location of the county courthouse, also beautifully preserved.
Wildflower sightings have begun to pick up. I spotted occasional masses of Texas bluebonnets along the road sides as well as evening primroses.
I don’t know which is harder, riding the bike for 93 miles or driving SAG for 93 miles. I was exhausted at the end of the day as were all of the riders. The winds were strong, 20 mph and gusting to 30, sometimes helping, sometimes hindering. There were hills, not of the major variety, but enough to get your attention. Almost all of the riders completed the day. And Robin, determined to ride her first century, continued riding around the block in town until she hit 100 miles. It was after 5 pm and she had been riding for the better part of 10 hours. Yeah, Robin!
I estimate that I put about 250 miles on the SAG wagon as I ferried back and forth between the frontrunners and our slowest rider. Our route took us just to the south of the congestion of Austin through the lovely town of Wimberly, with its restored stone buildings, and Lockhart, the location of the county courthouse, also beautifully preserved.
Wildflower sightings have begun to pick up. I spotted occasional masses of Texas bluebonnets along the road sides as well as evening primroses.
Day 30, April 4: Kerrville to Blanco, TX
70 of 70
It was a delightful ride today through some beautiful country. The landscape is green, the hills are rolling, and the rivers actually have water in them.
The first break was in the tiny town of Comfort where the historic stone buildings have been carefully restored for use by small businesses and as private homes. The next stop was the town of Waring, where the general store was reminiscent of the New England variety.
There wasn’t a whole lot to buy in this general store, but it did have an adjacent large gathering room in which Wednesday night steak dinners are held, usually for a crowd of about 200 locals. Too bad we were there on a Saturday. Despite evidence to the contrary, Elisabeth and Peggy assure me that they were having a grand time relaxing near the entrance to the store.
More beautiful scenery, amidst a reminder that not all Texans welcome visitors. I took the opportunity to relieve myself inside the gate of these friendly folks.
The lunch break
A burro couple
By afternoon, the temperature was well into the 80’s as the miles were racking up. Five of us made a wrong turn at a tricky intersection that, ultimately, led to the first “walking hill” of the trip. We ended up going only about five extra miles but I managed to get overheated and hypoglycemic, a bad combination. I finally made it in to Blanco where, on shaky legs, I tried to collect my thoughts. I headed to the Dairy Queen for air conditioning, cold water, and a small cone for a quick dose of sugar. Once rejuvenated, I headed to our mom and pop motel.
Tonight is Michelle’s last night as our trip leader, so we had a mid-state margarita night. Michelle has been a wonderful presence on this journey, always with words of encouragement. She is a master bike mechanic—I’ve learned so much from her.
Michelle and Jan B.
It was a delightful ride today through some beautiful country. The landscape is green, the hills are rolling, and the rivers actually have water in them.
The first break was in the tiny town of Comfort where the historic stone buildings have been carefully restored for use by small businesses and as private homes. The next stop was the town of Waring, where the general store was reminiscent of the New England variety.
There wasn’t a whole lot to buy in this general store, but it did have an adjacent large gathering room in which Wednesday night steak dinners are held, usually for a crowd of about 200 locals. Too bad we were there on a Saturday. Despite evidence to the contrary, Elisabeth and Peggy assure me that they were having a grand time relaxing near the entrance to the store.
More beautiful scenery, amidst a reminder that not all Texans welcome visitors. I took the opportunity to relieve myself inside the gate of these friendly folks.
The lunch break
A burro couple By afternoon, the temperature was well into the 80’s as the miles were racking up. Five of us made a wrong turn at a tricky intersection that, ultimately, led to the first “walking hill” of the trip. We ended up going only about five extra miles but I managed to get overheated and hypoglycemic, a bad combination. I finally made it in to Blanco where, on shaky legs, I tried to collect my thoughts. I headed to the Dairy Queen for air conditioning, cold water, and a small cone for a quick dose of sugar. Once rejuvenated, I headed to our mom and pop motel.
Tonight is Michelle’s last night as our trip leader, so we had a mid-state margarita night. Michelle has been a wonderful presence on this journey, always with words of encouragement. She is a master bike mechanic—I’ve learned so much from her.
Michelle and Jan B.Day 29, April 3: Kerrville, TX
Rest day
Tony finally made it in last night at 10:30 pm. It’s wonderful to have this short interlude together—I’ve been looking forward to it for days. This morning he got the grand tour of the “chuck wagon” and met many of my fellow riders. We explored the nearby town of Fredericksburg with its beautifully restored stone buildings and German-influenced restaurants. We passed through the tiny hamlet of Luckenbach, not much more than a dance hall heavily frequented by motorcyclists.
We headed to Austin, a mistake only because we didn’t appreciate how long it would take us and didn’t have the time to do much once there. On the way back we passed the LBJ Ranch, then closed, beautifully sited on the Pedernales River. Should we ever get back this way, it is definitely worth a visit.
Back in Fredericksburg, we took in a rock revue performed by a resident troupe. The audience was as interesting to watch as the performance.
Tony finally made it in last night at 10:30 pm. It’s wonderful to have this short interlude together—I’ve been looking forward to it for days. This morning he got the grand tour of the “chuck wagon” and met many of my fellow riders. We explored the nearby town of Fredericksburg with its beautifully restored stone buildings and German-influenced restaurants. We passed through the tiny hamlet of Luckenbach, not much more than a dance hall heavily frequented by motorcyclists.
We headed to Austin, a mistake only because we didn’t appreciate how long it would take us and didn’t have the time to do much once there. On the way back we passed the LBJ Ranch, then closed, beautifully sited on the Pedernales River. Should we ever get back this way, it is definitely worth a visit.
Back in Fredericksburg, we took in a rock revue performed by a resident troupe. The audience was as interesting to watch as the performance.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Day 28, April 2: Vanderpool to Kerrville, TX
28 of 51 miles
Today was day two of the Texas hill challenge. As almost perfect as the weather conditions were yesterday, today the wind picked up and the conditions quickly turned dicey. The first leg of the ride to Medina featured many short and steep rollers and a mile plus steep climb, all complicated by steady 40 mph crosswinds with occasional higher gusts. At one point I thought I was going airborne and quickly braked and pulled over until the gust abated. Caution was the name of the game for the rest of the way to Medina. The ride was gloriously beautiful, although the conditions limited the photo opportunities.
A friendly Shetland pony
The crest of the first major hill
Home of the longhorns, below
In Medina we gathered at the appointed bakery for their famous apple pie with cider sauce.
I headed back out for the second half of the ride, directly into the, now, headwind. After about a mile, I thought I had to be crazy to continue and turned back toward the orchard. Just as quickly, I decided I was being a wimp and turned around again, heading toward the second major hill of the day and the steepest grade of the entire trip. Three miles later, I finally came to my senses, deciding that this was a foolish and dangerous mission. I called Ann, driving SAG today, who reported that three riders were down from the winds, one with a concussion and on her way to the hospital. She arrived shortly thereafter to pluck my bike and me from the side of the road and, together, we continued on to monitor the progress of the six riders who insisted on continuing. They were fortunate to finish unscathed.
These bikers are quite the religious sort. Think they'll let me join?
Many of us are having family or friends in to visit on the Kerrville rest day, as it is the halfway point of the trip. Tony was due in this afternoon, but his flight was delayed for several hours because of airport closings due to the high winds. I am awaiting his arrival—
Today was day two of the Texas hill challenge. As almost perfect as the weather conditions were yesterday, today the wind picked up and the conditions quickly turned dicey. The first leg of the ride to Medina featured many short and steep rollers and a mile plus steep climb, all complicated by steady 40 mph crosswinds with occasional higher gusts. At one point I thought I was going airborne and quickly braked and pulled over until the gust abated. Caution was the name of the game for the rest of the way to Medina. The ride was gloriously beautiful, although the conditions limited the photo opportunities.
A friendly Shetland pony
The crest of the first major hill
Home of the longhorns, below
In Medina we gathered at the appointed bakery for their famous apple pie with cider sauce.
I headed back out for the second half of the ride, directly into the, now, headwind. After about a mile, I thought I had to be crazy to continue and turned back toward the orchard. Just as quickly, I decided I was being a wimp and turned around again, heading toward the second major hill of the day and the steepest grade of the entire trip. Three miles later, I finally came to my senses, deciding that this was a foolish and dangerous mission. I called Ann, driving SAG today, who reported that three riders were down from the winds, one with a concussion and on her way to the hospital. She arrived shortly thereafter to pluck my bike and me from the side of the road and, together, we continued on to monitor the progress of the six riders who insisted on continuing. They were fortunate to finish unscathed.
These bikers are quite the religious sort. Think they'll let me join?
Many of us are having family or friends in to visit on the Kerrville rest day, as it is the halfway point of the trip. Tony was due in this afternoon, but his flight was delayed for several hours because of airport closings due to the high winds. I am awaiting his arrival—
Day 27, April 1: Camp Wood to Vanderpool, TX
41 of 41 miles
Today and tomorrow were billed as the "Texas hill days". Today certainly didn’t disappoint. There were three big climbs of one to two miles each with 10-12 % grades. At the top of each climb, the road weaved through open range for as few miles before descending into the valley between the ridges.
Marni, Peggy, and Carol
The weather was ideal with the wind a relative non-factor, the road surface acceptable, and the scenery beautiful. It was a typical spring day, with seemingly dozens of shades of green mottled in the landscape and songbirds chirping at every turn.
Near the end of the ride, we stopped at a general store to catch our breath and to watch the resident hummingbirds hovering about. The Texas hills are motorcycle country and, apparently, bikers and religion have a lot in common, as evidenced by this flyer on the store’s bulletin board.
Today and tomorrow were billed as the "Texas hill days". Today certainly didn’t disappoint. There were three big climbs of one to two miles each with 10-12 % grades. At the top of each climb, the road weaved through open range for as few miles before descending into the valley between the ridges.
Marni, Peggy, and CarolThe weather was ideal with the wind a relative non-factor, the road surface acceptable, and the scenery beautiful. It was a typical spring day, with seemingly dozens of shades of green mottled in the landscape and songbirds chirping at every turn.
Near the end of the ride, we stopped at a general store to catch our breath and to watch the resident hummingbirds hovering about. The Texas hills are motorcycle country and, apparently, bikers and religion have a lot in common, as evidenced by this flyer on the store’s bulletin board.
Many of said motorcyclists manage to maim themselves screaming around the hairpin turns of these country roads. Thankfully, today is a Thursday and most of them are otherwise occupied.
Tonight we are staying in the Fox Fire Cabins near the Sabinal River. The cabins are two or three bedroom affairs and quite cute. Linda prepared dinner in the stone-chimneyed lodge, a perfect setting.
Tonight we are staying in the Fox Fire Cabins near the Sabinal River. The cabins are two or three bedroom affairs and quite cute. Linda prepared dinner in the stone-chimneyed lodge, a perfect setting.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Day 26, March 31: Bracketville to Camp Wood, TX
0 of 49 miles—SAG driver
We have officially left West Texas and entered the beginning of Texas Hill Country. The vegetation changed from brown to green in what seemed like a flash and the terrain has become slightly more interesting. It was a quiet day to be a SAG driver—no flats and no one in need of special services.
There was a little excitement out on the road, which I missed as I was awaiting riders at the first SAG stop. Nancy came across a ewe in some distress, caught between two gates and separated from her tiny lamb. It took the efforts of a few riders to get the mom disentangled from barbed wire and freed from the gates to reunite with her offspring.
In this part of Texas there are bridges only over continuously flowing water, which is the exception. Therefore, there are warning signs posted in washes and other low-lying areas with flood gauge indicators.
We crossed the Nueces River at the end of the ride, a scenic place to catch our breath. Next stop, Sisters Café, for post-ride energy replacement.
We have officially left West Texas and entered the beginning of Texas Hill Country. The vegetation changed from brown to green in what seemed like a flash and the terrain has become slightly more interesting. It was a quiet day to be a SAG driver—no flats and no one in need of special services.
There was a little excitement out on the road, which I missed as I was awaiting riders at the first SAG stop. Nancy came across a ewe in some distress, caught between two gates and separated from her tiny lamb. It took the efforts of a few riders to get the mom disentangled from barbed wire and freed from the gates to reunite with her offspring.
In this part of Texas there are bridges only over continuously flowing water, which is the exception. Therefore, there are warning signs posted in washes and other low-lying areas with flood gauge indicators.
We crossed the Nueces River at the end of the ride, a scenic place to catch our breath. Next stop, Sisters Café, for post-ride energy replacement.
Day 25, March 30: Armistad to Bracketville, TX
42 of 42 miles.
A short ride today, a recovery ride of sorts. The first 23 miles featured smooth pavement, often taken for granted before crossing into Texas, and for which I now have great appreciation. The final 20 miles was jarringly Texas normal. It was hot, very hot, 95 + hot.
The highlight of the ride was a Stealth bomber finishing its landing pattern directly over my head as I rode past Laughlin Air Force Base. Yes, you read correctly, the highlight.
As luck would have it given the heat, tonight we are staying in the Fort Clark Springs Motel and, you guessed it, there is a spring here—the Las Moras. The stream runs at a steady 68 degrees in all seasons, and the water gathers in a large, man-made pool, which many of us enjoyed. I even did a sequence from my 1960’s aquatic ballet routine, sans the Theme from Exodus in the background. Sometimes it’s necessary to improvise.
Fort Clark was one of the U.S. Army’s line of forts along the military road from San Antonio to El Paso. It was important to the defense of frontier settlements and control of the US-Mexican border. Today it is listed as a National Register Historic District. Although it is advertised as a “gated resort”, this description requires some imagination. Our quarters tonight are in restored cavalry barracks.
I tried very hard today to find photo ops. There were few, so I’m lowering my standards.
Aptly named
The barracks
A short ride today, a recovery ride of sorts. The first 23 miles featured smooth pavement, often taken for granted before crossing into Texas, and for which I now have great appreciation. The final 20 miles was jarringly Texas normal. It was hot, very hot, 95 + hot.
The highlight of the ride was a Stealth bomber finishing its landing pattern directly over my head as I rode past Laughlin Air Force Base. Yes, you read correctly, the highlight.
As luck would have it given the heat, tonight we are staying in the Fort Clark Springs Motel and, you guessed it, there is a spring here—the Las Moras. The stream runs at a steady 68 degrees in all seasons, and the water gathers in a large, man-made pool, which many of us enjoyed. I even did a sequence from my 1960’s aquatic ballet routine, sans the Theme from Exodus in the background. Sometimes it’s necessary to improvise.
Fort Clark was one of the U.S. Army’s line of forts along the military road from San Antonio to El Paso. It was important to the defense of frontier settlements and control of the US-Mexican border. Today it is listed as a National Register Historic District. Although it is advertised as a “gated resort”, this description requires some imagination. Our quarters tonight are in restored cavalry barracks.
I tried very hard today to find photo ops. There were few, so I’m lowering my standards.
Aptly named
The barracks Day 24, March 29: Sanderson to Amistad (Del Rio), TX
61 of 111 miles
Open range.
Border patrol.
Nothing, but nothing, for mile after mile.
Chip seal (now crudely referred to as crap shit).
Oh, and did I mention the wind?
30 mph, gusting to 40.
Unrelenting, in your face.
Noisy, the kind that makes people go insane during mistral.
Granny gear, my lowest of 30 possible combinations, on straight-aways.
Pedaling hard on steep downhills to reach 10 mph.
Uphills almost a treat on the leeward side.
Tractor-trailers and SUV’s brushing too close for comfort.
No photo ops. No time to stop.
It was brutal.
Six women finished the total mileage. They started at sunrise and pulled in to the motel at 7:45, 12+ hours later, after sunset with the sky streaked with pink. One completed a century, and then called it a day. Another, a strong rider, decided to bag the entire day when, at breakfast, the intensity of the conditions became evident. The remainder of us rode until our bodies would take us no further. This was an endurance event for which no amount of training could prepare you, as it would be next to impossible to replicate the conditions which, combined, gave this ride its difficulty. It’s over, and I cheerfully proclaim that I will never visit this part of Texas again. Well, maybe with Tony if he wants to soar in Marfa, but a vehicle with less than four wheels will be non negotiable.
Open range.
Border patrol.
Nothing, but nothing, for mile after mile.
Chip seal (now crudely referred to as crap shit).
Oh, and did I mention the wind?
30 mph, gusting to 40.
Unrelenting, in your face.
Noisy, the kind that makes people go insane during mistral.
Granny gear, my lowest of 30 possible combinations, on straight-aways.
Pedaling hard on steep downhills to reach 10 mph.
Uphills almost a treat on the leeward side.
Tractor-trailers and SUV’s brushing too close for comfort.
No photo ops. No time to stop.
It was brutal.
Six women finished the total mileage. They started at sunrise and pulled in to the motel at 7:45, 12+ hours later, after sunset with the sky streaked with pink. One completed a century, and then called it a day. Another, a strong rider, decided to bag the entire day when, at breakfast, the intensity of the conditions became evident. The remainder of us rode until our bodies would take us no further. This was an endurance event for which no amount of training could prepare you, as it would be next to impossible to replicate the conditions which, combined, gave this ride its difficulty. It’s over, and I cheerfully proclaim that I will never visit this part of Texas again. Well, maybe with Tony if he wants to soar in Marfa, but a vehicle with less than four wheels will be non negotiable.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Day 23, March 28: Marathon to Sanderson, TX
55 of 55 miles
Other than a frigid start (there was a hard frost last night with a sunrise temperature of 26), the ride was fairly uneventful. I set out at ten to avoid the coldest weather and, by noon, it had warmed to around 70 with consistent tailwinds, always a friend. The riding terrain was flat with open range, hills, and rocky mountains as the backdrop.
From Day 2 of the trip, our group has been playing cat-and-mouse with Scott who is doing this ride while he awaits his Peace Corps assignment. He subsequently met two fellows from Alaska, Allen and Carl, who he has biked with for the past three weeks.
The dearth of photo opportunities today makes for short work on the blog—no long delays for uploading. There’s an upside to everything.
Scott and Allen at one of our SAG stops
Ocotillo plant
Relaxing at the Desert Air Motel in metropolitan Sanderson
Other than a frigid start (there was a hard frost last night with a sunrise temperature of 26), the ride was fairly uneventful. I set out at ten to avoid the coldest weather and, by noon, it had warmed to around 70 with consistent tailwinds, always a friend. The riding terrain was flat with open range, hills, and rocky mountains as the backdrop.
From Day 2 of the trip, our group has been playing cat-and-mouse with Scott who is doing this ride while he awaits his Peace Corps assignment. He subsequently met two fellows from Alaska, Allen and Carl, who he has biked with for the past three weeks.
The dearth of photo opportunities today makes for short work on the blog—no long delays for uploading. There’s an upside to everything.
Scott and Allen at one of our SAG stops
Ocotillo plant
Relaxing at the Desert Air Motel in metropolitan Sanderson Friday, March 27, 2009
Day 22, March 27: Fort Davis to Marathon, TX
60 of 60 miles
A cold snap has overtaken this area. It was 36 degrees when we left the hotel and it remained at that temperature for the better part of the day, only rising to the high 40’s by mid-afternoon. There was all manner of dress out there today—there was absolutely no visible skin for many riders. This is where NH/VT riding in the spring and fall comes in to play for preparation. I had all the proper equipment and I couldn’t have been happier. It’s easier for me to control the cold than the heat, so it was my kind of riding.
There was a very brisk four-mile downhill to Fort Davis. The fort was a Confederate supply point and frontier outpost on the military road from San Antonio to El Paso.
The morning colors were subtle with the grasses taking on a slight pink hue. I was fortunate to see a herd of pronged-horn antelope approaching the crest of a hill.
The entire riding crew virtually invaded the local coffee shop in Alpine in an attempt to defrost. Some of the local customers chose to completely ignore us by turning their backs away as we sat down. Others were quick to engage in conversation and had a flurry of questions. This elderly gentleman in the cowboy hat sauntered in, supported by his cane, and was quickly engrossed in a conversation with his cronies.
There were a few wildflowers along the side of the road.
We paralleled the train tracks for the 30 miles from Alpine to Marathon. It is a very active line.
Tonight we stay at the Gage Hotel, a Texas classic. It was built in 1926 for Vermont native Alfred Gage, a cattleman. Gage founded the largest ranching operation in the Trans-Pecos area and was a successful banker in San Antonio. The hotel is beautifully appointed and filled with every manner of Western memorabilia.
Our group is afflicted with blogging mania. This is what we do every day after our ride.
Robin Sewell has the dubious distinction of having had nine flats so flat, several of them blowouts, by far the most in the group. Robin has handled her travails with an optimism that I would have had an extremely difficult time mustering. Replacement rims were deemed to be the solution, and the Fed Ex truck pulled in at 9 pm with said rims.
Robin rode in the van today as she awaited the shipment, and put the finishing touches on this poem, which she read at dinner. She gave me permission to share it with my readers.
There once was a bike rider named Robin,
A cold snap has overtaken this area. It was 36 degrees when we left the hotel and it remained at that temperature for the better part of the day, only rising to the high 40’s by mid-afternoon. There was all manner of dress out there today—there was absolutely no visible skin for many riders. This is where NH/VT riding in the spring and fall comes in to play for preparation. I had all the proper equipment and I couldn’t have been happier. It’s easier for me to control the cold than the heat, so it was my kind of riding.
There was a very brisk four-mile downhill to Fort Davis. The fort was a Confederate supply point and frontier outpost on the military road from San Antonio to El Paso.
The morning colors were subtle with the grasses taking on a slight pink hue. I was fortunate to see a herd of pronged-horn antelope approaching the crest of a hill.
The entire riding crew virtually invaded the local coffee shop in Alpine in an attempt to defrost. Some of the local customers chose to completely ignore us by turning their backs away as we sat down. Others were quick to engage in conversation and had a flurry of questions. This elderly gentleman in the cowboy hat sauntered in, supported by his cane, and was quickly engrossed in a conversation with his cronies.
There were a few wildflowers along the side of the road.
We paralleled the train tracks for the 30 miles from Alpine to Marathon. It is a very active line.
Tonight we stay at the Gage Hotel, a Texas classic. It was built in 1926 for Vermont native Alfred Gage, a cattleman. Gage founded the largest ranching operation in the Trans-Pecos area and was a successful banker in San Antonio. The hotel is beautifully appointed and filled with every manner of Western memorabilia.
Our group is afflicted with blogging mania. This is what we do every day after our ride.
Robin Sewell has the dubious distinction of having had nine flats so flat, several of them blowouts, by far the most in the group. Robin has handled her travails with an optimism that I would have had an extremely difficult time mustering. Replacement rims were deemed to be the solution, and the Fed Ex truck pulled in at 9 pm with said rims.
Robin rode in the van today as she awaited the shipment, and put the finishing touches on this poem, which she read at dinner. She gave me permission to share it with my readers.
There once was a bike rider named Robin,
With 8 flats in 3 weeks, you'd be sobbin',
But no tears did she shed,
Let the truth be said,
She went on with her trip with no problem.
Many women among us felt pity,
Changing tires can be really gritty,
Especially when,
Gusty, strong winds blow in,
In Fort Hancock which isn't much of a city.
She learned to change tires by looking,
Take your levers and just start hooking,
Spin the lever around,
Put the old tube on the ground,
Insert the new tube and you're cooking.
Her back tires exploded, KAPOW!
Michelle to the rescue, WOW!
New rim tape and file,
New tube, tire, that's style!
Back biking the roadways for now.
My thanks to to Ann, Susan, and SAG,
In helping me out, though I lag,
Behind most of the crew,
I stop to admire the view,
Don't feel sorry for me, that's a drag.
Some setbacks, I've had quite a few,
But my new friends, you've always come through,
With a big caring hug,
On my heartstrings, you've tugged,
Kind words, sage advice, I thank you!
This group of bike women is great,
Chef Linda's meals really rate,
Michelle's always about,
To help us all out,
As we bicycle from state to state.
Over 1,000 miles we have ridden,
Butterflies,desert flowers are not hidden,
Back roads, highway shoulders,
With unique, huge boulders,
More adventures lie ahead, no kidding!
Love to all, Robin
Day 21, March 26: Fort Davis
Rest Day
The appreciation of the rest day is universal in our tight-knit community. No one sleeps in, but naps are not unheard of. We do laundry, we clean bikes, the SAG drivers clean our wagon, Linda cleans her kitchen, and everyone looks for activities of interest within close proximity.
Our hotel, the Indian Lodge, came as a pleasant surprise. It was built in the 1930’s as a CCC project. The original structure has been enlarged to 39 rooms of attractive adobe construction, with some of the original native wood furniture intact.
I explored the town of Fort Davis by foot which, at most, took about a half hour. There are a couple of hotels from the late 18-early 1900’s that were interesting and fairly well maintained. I had lunch at the Old Texas Inn which had big atmosphere, with the soda fountain counter unaltered from its origins.
Several of us visited the McDonald Observatory atop Mount Locke, set above Fort Davis at an elevation of 6791’. We toured the Harlan Smith telescope, named after the first University of Texas Chair of Astronomy, built from 1966-1968 with a 107” mirror, then one of the largest in the world.
Jan and I are rooming together for this two-day stop. We are the tall and the short, or the vertically challenged and vertically endowed, of the group.
When I’m around Jan, it reminds me of going to the nursing uniform shop freshmen year to get fit for, well, a uniform. I asked one of my dorm mates to accompany me. She was, and I hope still is, 4’10”, as is Jan. When we walked in the door of this tiny shop, the woman took one look and exclaimed, “Oh, my God”. I assured her that I was the only one she needed to fit as Bug, her affectionate moniker, was not a nursing major. That seemed to offer the proprietor only minimal comfort. This was in 1966 and, within a few short months, fashion dictated that many, many inches would be chopped from the hem of said uniform. She need not have gone to all the trouble.
At dinner tonight, I learned that the weather is in for a dramatic temperature change tomorrow. Cold, wind—we’ll get a current forecast in the morning. And Ann, one of my fellow SAG drivers, has an injury from yesterday’s ride. Therefore, tomorrow I will ride instead of being the SAG driver, to give her injury a chance to heal.
The appreciation of the rest day is universal in our tight-knit community. No one sleeps in, but naps are not unheard of. We do laundry, we clean bikes, the SAG drivers clean our wagon, Linda cleans her kitchen, and everyone looks for activities of interest within close proximity.
Our hotel, the Indian Lodge, came as a pleasant surprise. It was built in the 1930’s as a CCC project. The original structure has been enlarged to 39 rooms of attractive adobe construction, with some of the original native wood furniture intact.
I explored the town of Fort Davis by foot which, at most, took about a half hour. There are a couple of hotels from the late 18-early 1900’s that were interesting and fairly well maintained. I had lunch at the Old Texas Inn which had big atmosphere, with the soda fountain counter unaltered from its origins.
Several of us visited the McDonald Observatory atop Mount Locke, set above Fort Davis at an elevation of 6791’. We toured the Harlan Smith telescope, named after the first University of Texas Chair of Astronomy, built from 1966-1968 with a 107” mirror, then one of the largest in the world.
Jan and I are rooming together for this two-day stop. We are the tall and the short, or the vertically challenged and vertically endowed, of the group.
When I’m around Jan, it reminds me of going to the nursing uniform shop freshmen year to get fit for, well, a uniform. I asked one of my dorm mates to accompany me. She was, and I hope still is, 4’10”, as is Jan. When we walked in the door of this tiny shop, the woman took one look and exclaimed, “Oh, my God”. I assured her that I was the only one she needed to fit as Bug, her affectionate moniker, was not a nursing major. That seemed to offer the proprietor only minimal comfort. This was in 1966 and, within a few short months, fashion dictated that many, many inches would be chopped from the hem of said uniform. She need not have gone to all the trouble.
At dinner tonight, I learned that the weather is in for a dramatic temperature change tomorrow. Cold, wind—we’ll get a current forecast in the morning. And Ann, one of my fellow SAG drivers, has an injury from yesterday’s ride. Therefore, tomorrow I will ride instead of being the SAG driver, to give her injury a chance to heal.
Day 20, March 25: Van Horn to Fort Davis, TX
66 of 90 miles
At the map meeting last night, Michelle decided to change the first 40 miles of the route from equal stretches on the frontage road and interstate to all interstate, primarily due to the terrible chip seal conditions of the frontage road. At the interstate exit, we will head south toward Fort Davis to fight strong cross and headwinds during the 37-mile uphill climb through beautiful scenery, with the final 13-miles downhill to Indian Lodge at Davis Mountains State Park.
I fully expected to do the entire ride. When the interstate shoulder changed to chip seal, I made a command ride management decision to bump up in the SAG wagon the last 20 miles of interstate so I would have enough left to enjoy the scenic part of the ride. Since I have been quite vocal in my distaste for chip seal, this is what it looks like. It takes about 5 MPH off of forward progress.
The winds were immense with 40 MPH gusts and the hills were long with steep grades in parts, but I enjoyed this ride tremendously. While the elevation gain between Van Horn and the State Park was only 1000’, to 5050’, the actual gain on the day was far greater. I rode alone most of the day as riding with partners had no advantage in these gusty conditions, and we all climb at different speeds.
The yucca plants were in full bloom and plentiful.
Around every turn was another breathtaking view to absorb.
As the climb began
Where we're headed
Great place for a SAG stop
Once I passed the McDonald Observatory (the Hobby-Eberly telescope is in the background, the world’s third largest telescope with a 433” mirror), part of the University of Texas at Austin, the difficult climb was behind me.
At the map meeting last night, Michelle decided to change the first 40 miles of the route from equal stretches on the frontage road and interstate to all interstate, primarily due to the terrible chip seal conditions of the frontage road. At the interstate exit, we will head south toward Fort Davis to fight strong cross and headwinds during the 37-mile uphill climb through beautiful scenery, with the final 13-miles downhill to Indian Lodge at Davis Mountains State Park.
I fully expected to do the entire ride. When the interstate shoulder changed to chip seal, I made a command ride management decision to bump up in the SAG wagon the last 20 miles of interstate so I would have enough left to enjoy the scenic part of the ride. Since I have been quite vocal in my distaste for chip seal, this is what it looks like. It takes about 5 MPH off of forward progress.
The winds were immense with 40 MPH gusts and the hills were long with steep grades in parts, but I enjoyed this ride tremendously. While the elevation gain between Van Horn and the State Park was only 1000’, to 5050’, the actual gain on the day was far greater. I rode alone most of the day as riding with partners had no advantage in these gusty conditions, and we all climb at different speeds.
The yucca plants were in full bloom and plentiful.
Around every turn was another breathtaking view to absorb.
As the climb began
Where we're headed
Great place for a SAG stopOnce I passed the McDonald Observatory (the Hobby-Eberly telescope is in the background, the world’s third largest telescope with a 433” mirror), part of the University of Texas at Austin, the difficult climb was behind me.
I thoroughly enjoyed the long downhill, occasionally reaching speeds of 40 MPH, with these gorgeous vistas to enjoy. What a day!
Riders were dropping like flies all day, and the SAG driver and trip leaders had a busy day bumping riders. Eleven of twenty riders completed the full distance. I completed all 46 miles of hills and crosswinds along with 20 miles of interstate. It was a tough day, and we all did the best we could.
It was lights out for me at 10 pm. Tomorrow is a rest day—I’m snoring already.
It was lights out for me at 10 pm. Tomorrow is a rest day—I’m snoring already.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Day 19, March 24: Fort Hancock to Van Horn, TX
74 of 74 miles
Ahh, the joys of western Texas—grassy, shrubby, rocky, dusty. This was my least favorite ride to date—22 miles on chip seal country roads, followed by 42 miles on the chip seal frontage road paralleling I-10 and 12 miles on I-10 itself. The highlight of the day was that a strong tailwind carried us along at a decent clip. We ran into a cycling couple from Portland, Oregon who are sharing SAG responsibilities, each riding for about 50 miles per day, and camping in their Mercedes van at night. I rode for a short time with the woman before our routes parted.
I did manage to find one photo op in Esperanza.
Ahh, the joys of western Texas—grassy, shrubby, rocky, dusty. This was my least favorite ride to date—22 miles on chip seal country roads, followed by 42 miles on the chip seal frontage road paralleling I-10 and 12 miles on I-10 itself. The highlight of the day was that a strong tailwind carried us along at a decent clip. We ran into a cycling couple from Portland, Oregon who are sharing SAG responsibilities, each riding for about 50 miles per day, and camping in their Mercedes van at night. I rode for a short time with the woman before our routes parted.
I did manage to find one photo op in Esperanza.
Day 18, March 23: El Paso to Fort Hancock, TX
48 of 48 miles
The group affectionately called today a “rolling rest day”. Where 48 miles once seemed to be a full biking workout, now it is a slacker day. A few miles out of El Paso we joined the Mission Trail, which skirted several starkly beautiful Catholic churches from the 1800’s. The original Presidio Chapel in San Elizario was built in 1789 as a Spanish fort for defense against Apache and Comanche raids. The present church was completed in 1887 and is still an active parish.
As we paralleled the Rio Grande, we rode through the towns of Fabens, Socorro, and Tornillo. There were many small ranches along the way with pecan groves and cotton and alfalfa fields.
Our recommended lunch stop was at La Calesa in Tornillo, a tiny Mexican restaurant located in an unlikely place we never would have found on our own. A grandmother and her 10-year old granddaughter, home from school to help with the influx of our group, made us feel at home.
The riding conditions were quite good with a decent tailwind and flat terrain. Jan, our SAG driver, found the perfect place for a stop under a stand of mature cottonwood trees.
As we approached Fort Hancock, the landscape became drier with dust swirling along the roadside. Fort Hancock, built in 1881 and originally called Camp Rice, was a sub-post of Fort Davis. The Rio Grande has frequently flooded the town. Our experience at our 30’s era motel was that of a dustbowl. The winds picked up significantly in the late afternoon, gusting to 40 mph, so we took shelter behind one of the buildings to consume our outdoor dinner.
The group affectionately called today a “rolling rest day”. Where 48 miles once seemed to be a full biking workout, now it is a slacker day. A few miles out of El Paso we joined the Mission Trail, which skirted several starkly beautiful Catholic churches from the 1800’s. The original Presidio Chapel in San Elizario was built in 1789 as a Spanish fort for defense against Apache and Comanche raids. The present church was completed in 1887 and is still an active parish.
As we paralleled the Rio Grande, we rode through the towns of Fabens, Socorro, and Tornillo. There were many small ranches along the way with pecan groves and cotton and alfalfa fields.
Our recommended lunch stop was at La Calesa in Tornillo, a tiny Mexican restaurant located in an unlikely place we never would have found on our own. A grandmother and her 10-year old granddaughter, home from school to help with the influx of our group, made us feel at home.
The riding conditions were quite good with a decent tailwind and flat terrain. Jan, our SAG driver, found the perfect place for a stop under a stand of mature cottonwood trees.
As we approached Fort Hancock, the landscape became drier with dust swirling along the roadside. Fort Hancock, built in 1881 and originally called Camp Rice, was a sub-post of Fort Davis. The Rio Grande has frequently flooded the town. Our experience at our 30’s era motel was that of a dustbowl. The winds picked up significantly in the late afternoon, gusting to 40 mph, so we took shelter behind one of the buildings to consume our outdoor dinner.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Day 17, March 22: Las Cruces, NM to El Paso, TX
0 of 67 miles; SAG driver
Billy the Kid continues to figure prominently in the lore of southern New Mexico. This sign was posted on a building in La Mesilla, a well-preserved town just south of Las Cruces.
It was a gorgeous, crisp morning heading out of Las Cruces toward El Paso, with the sun rising behind the Organ Mountains and mist hanging over the cotton fields and pastures. The first half of the ride was through exceptionally beautiful terrain, while the second half was through the blight of suburban shopping malls on the outskirts of El Paso.
We had our third state crossing, so the margaritas will be flowing tonight.
It was a good day to be a SAG driver. Only one flat at the first SAG stop—how convenient? Otherwise, an uneventful day for the support vehicle and driver.
I joined Lois and Marci for lunch at a Mexican restaurant next to our hotel. Being a Sunday afternoon, extended families covering many generations filled the tables and booths. We were the only three Anglo faces in the house—always a good sign.
Billy the Kid continues to figure prominently in the lore of southern New Mexico. This sign was posted on a building in La Mesilla, a well-preserved town just south of Las Cruces.
It was a gorgeous, crisp morning heading out of Las Cruces toward El Paso, with the sun rising behind the Organ Mountains and mist hanging over the cotton fields and pastures. The first half of the ride was through exceptionally beautiful terrain, while the second half was through the blight of suburban shopping malls on the outskirts of El Paso.
We had our third state crossing, so the margaritas will be flowing tonight.
It was a good day to be a SAG driver. Only one flat at the first SAG stop—how convenient? Otherwise, an uneventful day for the support vehicle and driver.
I joined Lois and Marci for lunch at a Mexican restaurant next to our hotel. Being a Sunday afternoon, extended families covering many generations filled the tables and booths. We were the only three Anglo faces in the house—always a good sign.
Day 16, March 21: Kingson to Las Cruces, NM
89 of 89 miles
I awoke this morning in exactly the same position in which I fell asleep 10 hours ago. Catherine and the staff put on a huge breakfast spread to fuel us for the long ride into Las Cruces.
With my machine readied, I set off for the nine-mile descent to Hillsboro. A great way to start the morning, with gorgeous vistas at every turn.
A steep, three-mile climb out of Hillsboro opened up the mountains to our south.
The rich, irrigated, flood plain soil supports abundant pecan orchards and cotton fields all along the Rio Grande to the Texas border. The symmetry of the orchards is very precise. Early stage orchards were but sticks set into the ground while the older pecan trees had been so savagely cut back, apparently from the chain saw theory of pruning, it is hard to believe they will still produce. Every orchard seemed to have the same approach, so I guess they know what they’re doing.
The lunch stop was at a very good Mexican restaurant in Hatch. The claim to fame for Hatch, population 1028, is its chili peppers. It is the only industry in town.
Willows near the Rio Grande
I awoke this morning in exactly the same position in which I fell asleep 10 hours ago. Catherine and the staff put on a huge breakfast spread to fuel us for the long ride into Las Cruces.
With my machine readied, I set off for the nine-mile descent to Hillsboro. A great way to start the morning, with gorgeous vistas at every turn.
A steep, three-mile climb out of Hillsboro opened up the mountains to our south.
A descent into the valley brought us along the Rio Grande, which we crossed three times during the day.
The rich, irrigated, flood plain soil supports abundant pecan orchards and cotton fields all along the Rio Grande to the Texas border. The symmetry of the orchards is very precise. Early stage orchards were but sticks set into the ground while the older pecan trees had been so savagely cut back, apparently from the chain saw theory of pruning, it is hard to believe they will still produce. Every orchard seemed to have the same approach, so I guess they know what they’re doing.
The lunch stop was at a very good Mexican restaurant in Hatch. The claim to fame for Hatch, population 1028, is its chili peppers. It is the only industry in town.
Willows near the Rio Grande We left Hatch with only 38 miles to ride but, as is typical for the past several days, the winds picked up significantly in the afternoon along with the heat. We had strong headwinds for the remainder of the ride. An alternating pace line with Janet and Marni saved the day. During this stretch, we got our first glimpse of the Organ Mountains, which form a gorgeous backdrop to the city of Las Cruces.
Day 15, March 20: Silver City to Kingston, NM
49 of 49 miles
The ride today is the epic journey of the Southern Tier. Of the 48 ST rides, it is THE ONE I didn’t want to miss but gave me the most pause, as the route traverses Emory Pass in the Mimbres Mountains. To eliminate any suspense, I did it! Yes, I was slow. Yes, I panted. Yes, I stopped quite a lot. No matter. It was just an elegant day in every way, from wakeup to my 8:30 bedtime.
We were fortunate as the weather prediction called for thunderstorms, which would have been the first rain of the trip. However, we awoke to overcast skies, which held for most of the day, with an occasional hazy ray of sunshine. Not only did we not have to cope with rain gear during the long climb, we also avoided the intense sun and heat that have been with us for many days. Perfect climbing weather.
The first 31 miles took us through the towns of Santa Clara, Hanover, and San Lorenzo, with pleasant high desert views.
We stopped to contemplate the Kneeling Nun rock formation, near the summit of the Santa Rita Range.
We had views into the pit of the Santa Clara copper mine, and the mound of the mine operation was visible for several more miles. The copper industry, one of the biggest employers in southwestern New Mexico, has been hit hard in recent months as the price of copper has declined sharply, resulting in many layoffs. There are few alternative jobs for those affected.
The route was consistently up or down, never flat, during which we gained and lost about 4000’, ending in a valley floor. I took this photo during the descent with the peaks of Emory Pass ahead.
At Mile 31 the final, unrelenting climb began, with eight miles of steep grade and an elevation gain of 3000’ to the Emory Pass Vista at 8828’. As I rode solo most of the day, I was able to experience this magical landscape of rock canyons and towering pines with only the sounds of the plentiful songbirds and the rushing water of the Lower and Upper Galinas stream to keep me company. Around Mile 38 I was starting to tire when the SAG wagon, with Nancy behind the wheel, came around a turn. She said, “Carol, just one more mile.” I thought I had two more miles to go, and this was the motivation I needed at just the right moment.
The view from the summit was to the east, including our destination tonight, Kingston. I found four other riders at the summit with whom I shared whoops and screams and congratulations and, of course, photo ops.
Next, the reward— 2300' of elevation lost over eight continuous miles of downhill through hairpin turns with incredible, expansive vistas. I was on my brakes most of the time as anything over 20 mph would have been foolhardy.
Kingston is a little town with a big personality.
The Black Range Lodge is a structure originally built in the mid-1800’s featuring both interior and exterior stone walls. The first floor houses two large gathering rooms, one with a billiard table, and a large country kitchen with a cast iron stove. The second floor also has a large gathering room connecting to an abundance of bedrooms. There are also a couple of straw bale structures where a few women roomed. The rear of the house has every manner of junk that one could imagine—never know when you’ll need an extra part.
Catherine, the proprietor, and her staff prepared a spectacular turkey feast for us after which we celebrated Jan’s 65th birthday.
Marni bestowed upon Mary Jo the SOW award, for steadfast older wild woman. The “statue” was a tiny helmeted hog dressed in a bike jersey with a safety triangle on the back. When you press the hog’s belly, it sings “Born to be Wild”.
Nancy was one of the few people with the energy to do anything productive at the end of this special day. As the SAG driver, she made many trips back and forth through the Pass checking on riders, but only two riders needed a lift.
Finally, this day of great anticipation is behind me—one I will remember forever.
The ride today is the epic journey of the Southern Tier. Of the 48 ST rides, it is THE ONE I didn’t want to miss but gave me the most pause, as the route traverses Emory Pass in the Mimbres Mountains. To eliminate any suspense, I did it! Yes, I was slow. Yes, I panted. Yes, I stopped quite a lot. No matter. It was just an elegant day in every way, from wakeup to my 8:30 bedtime.
We were fortunate as the weather prediction called for thunderstorms, which would have been the first rain of the trip. However, we awoke to overcast skies, which held for most of the day, with an occasional hazy ray of sunshine. Not only did we not have to cope with rain gear during the long climb, we also avoided the intense sun and heat that have been with us for many days. Perfect climbing weather.
The first 31 miles took us through the towns of Santa Clara, Hanover, and San Lorenzo, with pleasant high desert views.
We stopped to contemplate the Kneeling Nun rock formation, near the summit of the Santa Rita Range.
We had views into the pit of the Santa Clara copper mine, and the mound of the mine operation was visible for several more miles. The copper industry, one of the biggest employers in southwestern New Mexico, has been hit hard in recent months as the price of copper has declined sharply, resulting in many layoffs. There are few alternative jobs for those affected.
The route was consistently up or down, never flat, during which we gained and lost about 4000’, ending in a valley floor. I took this photo during the descent with the peaks of Emory Pass ahead.
At Mile 31 the final, unrelenting climb began, with eight miles of steep grade and an elevation gain of 3000’ to the Emory Pass Vista at 8828’. As I rode solo most of the day, I was able to experience this magical landscape of rock canyons and towering pines with only the sounds of the plentiful songbirds and the rushing water of the Lower and Upper Galinas stream to keep me company. Around Mile 38 I was starting to tire when the SAG wagon, with Nancy behind the wheel, came around a turn. She said, “Carol, just one more mile.” I thought I had two more miles to go, and this was the motivation I needed at just the right moment.
The view from the summit was to the east, including our destination tonight, Kingston. I found four other riders at the summit with whom I shared whoops and screams and congratulations and, of course, photo ops.
Next, the reward— 2300' of elevation lost over eight continuous miles of downhill through hairpin turns with incredible, expansive vistas. I was on my brakes most of the time as anything over 20 mph would have been foolhardy.
Kingston is a little town with a big personality.
The Black Range Lodge is a structure originally built in the mid-1800’s featuring both interior and exterior stone walls. The first floor houses two large gathering rooms, one with a billiard table, and a large country kitchen with a cast iron stove. The second floor also has a large gathering room connecting to an abundance of bedrooms. There are also a couple of straw bale structures where a few women roomed. The rear of the house has every manner of junk that one could imagine—never know when you’ll need an extra part.
Catherine, the proprietor, and her staff prepared a spectacular turkey feast for us after which we celebrated Jan’s 65th birthday.
Marni bestowed upon Mary Jo the SOW award, for steadfast older wild woman. The “statue” was a tiny helmeted hog dressed in a bike jersey with a safety triangle on the back. When you press the hog’s belly, it sings “Born to be Wild”.
Nancy was one of the few people with the energy to do anything productive at the end of this special day. As the SAG driver, she made many trips back and forth through the Pass checking on riders, but only two riders needed a lift.
Finally, this day of great anticipation is behind me—one I will remember forever.
Day 14, March 19: Silver City, NM
Rest day
This was a well-deserved rest day as, other than the SAG drivers, most women have ridden for eight straight days on long routes through some difficult terrain. It is also the day before the major climb of the trip.
Silver City has much to explore during a short interlude. I did my exploring yesterday afternoon as I rode through town. So, today, I am interested in some, as our family calls it, personal and private time. Time to regroup, get caught up with emails and the blog, and to relax. I ordered some yarn that I found yesterday at YadaYada Yarn--love the name and the owner was very helpful. Shipped home, at no charge, to NH and no sales tax--she spoke my language.
Several of us went to dinner at Shevek's, a very nice bistro in town, where Tony and I had a wonderful dinner in November. Three hours into our meal we were still waiting for our checks. While we agreed that the food was delicious, the service was completely out of control. How many times have you had a waiter roll his eyes when you decline dessert? We just wanted to get back to the hotel to get a decent night's rest for tomorrow. So, that's it for Shevek's. Next time I'll try the Mexican restaurant at the other end of Bullock, which got rave reviews from others in our group who tried it. As the sole cab driver in town goes off duty at 7 PM, we walked the mile uphill to our hotel. The bed felt great.
This was a well-deserved rest day as, other than the SAG drivers, most women have ridden for eight straight days on long routes through some difficult terrain. It is also the day before the major climb of the trip.
Silver City has much to explore during a short interlude. I did my exploring yesterday afternoon as I rode through town. So, today, I am interested in some, as our family calls it, personal and private time. Time to regroup, get caught up with emails and the blog, and to relax. I ordered some yarn that I found yesterday at YadaYada Yarn--love the name and the owner was very helpful. Shipped home, at no charge, to NH and no sales tax--she spoke my language.
Several of us went to dinner at Shevek's, a very nice bistro in town, where Tony and I had a wonderful dinner in November. Three hours into our meal we were still waiting for our checks. While we agreed that the food was delicious, the service was completely out of control. How many times have you had a waiter roll his eyes when you decline dessert? We just wanted to get back to the hotel to get a decent night's rest for tomorrow. So, that's it for Shevek's. Next time I'll try the Mexican restaurant at the other end of Bullock, which got rave reviews from others in our group who tried it. As the sole cab driver in town goes off duty at 7 PM, we walked the mile uphill to our hotel. The bed felt great.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Day 13, March 18: Lordsburg to Silver City, NM
48 of 48 miles
Temperature range low 50’s to mid-80’s
Today was our Continental Divide crossing! We started in Lordsburg at 4250’, climbing gradually for the first 10 miles. While the incline was not impressive, it felt like we were slogging through quicksand. Many tough days of biking are taking their toll. When I stopped to take this photo, I could feel the electricity prickling through my hands. There is a good reason not to live close to major electrical lines.
At mile 10 the grade picked up with seemingly never-ending rollers and the vegetation changed from golden grasses to scrub pine. I was so happy to see the SAG wagon around mile 16, and my strength actually increased as the steep climb continued. While I am quite slow on the uphills, I ride at a steady pace focusing on the road just ahead of me instead of the distance I still have to conquer. It’s a great strategy for completing long climbs, but it is sometimes difficult to fully appreciate the surrounding beauty. Every so often I would peek up and around to take in the incredible views.
I was pleasantly surprised to come upon the Continental Divide signage at around mile 20, celebrating the moment with Michelle.
From the high point of 6355’ at the Divide, there were several miles of serious downhill runs during which I got to 40 mph, my highest speed ever. The road surface was good, there was very little traffic, and the weather was great, so it was the perfect opportunity to let it rip. It felt so good!
To the west of Silver City we passed the Tyrone open pit copper mine.
There were more rolling hills for several miles on the approach to Silver City, elevation 5900’, which, in fact, were some of the steepest climbs of the day. Being tired might have had something to do with it.
On the side of the road, I passed this stark reminder of the risks of this sport.
The panorama to the south of Silver City was breathtaking.
Silver City is an interesting town with many historic buildings now recycled as cafes, galleries, bike shops, and other venues. I rode slowly through town, previewing several of the shops for longer visits on our rest day tomorrow. Silver City is also known as the home of Billy the Kid, then known as Kid Antrim, who was arrested and jailed here at age 14 for theft, but managed to escape.
This was a very good and special day.
Temperature range low 50’s to mid-80’s
Today was our Continental Divide crossing! We started in Lordsburg at 4250’, climbing gradually for the first 10 miles. While the incline was not impressive, it felt like we were slogging through quicksand. Many tough days of biking are taking their toll. When I stopped to take this photo, I could feel the electricity prickling through my hands. There is a good reason not to live close to major electrical lines.
At mile 10 the grade picked up with seemingly never-ending rollers and the vegetation changed from golden grasses to scrub pine. I was so happy to see the SAG wagon around mile 16, and my strength actually increased as the steep climb continued. While I am quite slow on the uphills, I ride at a steady pace focusing on the road just ahead of me instead of the distance I still have to conquer. It’s a great strategy for completing long climbs, but it is sometimes difficult to fully appreciate the surrounding beauty. Every so often I would peek up and around to take in the incredible views.
I was pleasantly surprised to come upon the Continental Divide signage at around mile 20, celebrating the moment with Michelle.
From the high point of 6355’ at the Divide, there were several miles of serious downhill runs during which I got to 40 mph, my highest speed ever. The road surface was good, there was very little traffic, and the weather was great, so it was the perfect opportunity to let it rip. It felt so good!
To the west of Silver City we passed the Tyrone open pit copper mine.
There were more rolling hills for several miles on the approach to Silver City, elevation 5900’, which, in fact, were some of the steepest climbs of the day. Being tired might have had something to do with it.
On the side of the road, I passed this stark reminder of the risks of this sport.
The panorama to the south of Silver City was breathtaking.
Silver City is an interesting town with many historic buildings now recycled as cafes, galleries, bike shops, and other venues. I rode slowly through town, previewing several of the shops for longer visits on our rest day tomorrow. Silver City is also known as the home of Billy the Kid, then known as Kid Antrim, who was arrested and jailed here at age 14 for theft, but managed to escape.
This was a very good and special day.
Day 12, March 17: Safford, AZ to Lordsburg, NM
Sag driver, 0 of 75 miles
Another gorgeous, blue-sky day with cool temperatures in the morning, warming to the high 80’s by mid-day. The 800’ elevation gain between Safford and Duncan doesn’t do justice to the first 40 miles of the ride. There were many long rollers as Route 70 ran through the lower elevations of the Pelocillo Mountains. A few riders opted to bump up 15 miles to the lunch spot at Ole Jo’s Café where Liz ordered St. Patrick’s pancakes.
Ole Jo's Cafe, Duncan, NM
The final 35 miles from Duncan to Lordsburg had a slight and steady elevation gain of 600’ with mountain vistas in the distance.
A few miles southeast of Duncan we had our second state crossing, into New Mexico, where we came across three bikers of another variety heading to Las Vegas for some fun and frolic.
My day as a SAG driver was relatively eventful. Only three miles out of Safford I came across Nancy, who already had two blowouts in the hotel parking lot this morning, and experienced her third on the road with no obvious cause. I had just enough time to run her back to Safford to catch up with Michelle and Linda, who were grocery shopping, managing to get back to the 20-mile SAG stop in time for the first riders. Five miles later I picked up the three riders mentioned earlier.
At the mile 60 SAG stop, I got a call from a rider who had fallen hard enough to crack her helmet at a railroad crossing. As I headed back toward Duncan to give her a lift, I stopped for each rider or group of riders who hadn’t reached me at the SAG stop yet so they could refuel and fill their water bottles. In this part of the country, there are very long stretches where there are absolutely no services and the conditions have been very hot and dry, so the SAG services are highly valued. On my way, I passed another rider who had just finished changing her flat only to have the valve blow out on the replacement. Up on Bo Peep went her bike. I came across the rider who had fallen, stowed her bike, and set out in search of the only rider remaining unaccounted. I found her at 3 PM just outside of Duncan, still with 35 miles to go. She, too, had fallen at the railroad tracks, which had a very sharp angle, and had been to a clinic to get a tetanus shot and to have her road rash treated. I convinced her that a SAG lift was in her best interest, and the four of us set off to Lordsburg. I had just enough time to reload the SAG wagon for tomorrow’s driver before dinner was served.
It was margarita night because of the state crossing and Linda, our master chef, prepared Irish stew and bread pudding for a delicious St. Patrick’s Day dinner.
Another gorgeous, blue-sky day with cool temperatures in the morning, warming to the high 80’s by mid-day. The 800’ elevation gain between Safford and Duncan doesn’t do justice to the first 40 miles of the ride. There were many long rollers as Route 70 ran through the lower elevations of the Pelocillo Mountains. A few riders opted to bump up 15 miles to the lunch spot at Ole Jo’s Café where Liz ordered St. Patrick’s pancakes.
Ole Jo's Cafe, Duncan, NMThe final 35 miles from Duncan to Lordsburg had a slight and steady elevation gain of 600’ with mountain vistas in the distance.
A few miles southeast of Duncan we had our second state crossing, into New Mexico, where we came across three bikers of another variety heading to Las Vegas for some fun and frolic.
My day as a SAG driver was relatively eventful. Only three miles out of Safford I came across Nancy, who already had two blowouts in the hotel parking lot this morning, and experienced her third on the road with no obvious cause. I had just enough time to run her back to Safford to catch up with Michelle and Linda, who were grocery shopping, managing to get back to the 20-mile SAG stop in time for the first riders. Five miles later I picked up the three riders mentioned earlier.
At the mile 60 SAG stop, I got a call from a rider who had fallen hard enough to crack her helmet at a railroad crossing. As I headed back toward Duncan to give her a lift, I stopped for each rider or group of riders who hadn’t reached me at the SAG stop yet so they could refuel and fill their water bottles. In this part of the country, there are very long stretches where there are absolutely no services and the conditions have been very hot and dry, so the SAG services are highly valued. On my way, I passed another rider who had just finished changing her flat only to have the valve blow out on the replacement. Up on Bo Peep went her bike. I came across the rider who had fallen, stowed her bike, and set out in search of the only rider remaining unaccounted. I found her at 3 PM just outside of Duncan, still with 35 miles to go. She, too, had fallen at the railroad tracks, which had a very sharp angle, and had been to a clinic to get a tetanus shot and to have her road rash treated. I convinced her that a SAG lift was in her best interest, and the four of us set off to Lordsburg. I had just enough time to reload the SAG wagon for tomorrow’s driver before dinner was served.
It was margarita night because of the state crossing and Linda, our master chef, prepared Irish stew and bread pudding for a delicious St. Patrick’s Day dinner.
Day 11, March 16: Globe to Safford, AZ
80 of 80 miles
Temperature range low 50’s to mid-80’s
Upon leaving Globe, the road conditions changed quickly to far less traffic and a better road surface and shoulder. I rode solo for the first 35 miles, most of this distance through the San Carlos Apache Reservation. I appreciated the quiet morning as the haze lifted from the mountains undulating in the distance. While we had a net loss of elevation in this stretch, there were a series of medium length hills to climb between the descents.
At the 35-mile mark, I caught up with a group of four women just as the headwind kicked in. We remained together for the rest of the ride, alternating pulling every mile. Anticipation of a stop at Taylor Freeze, around mile 65, kept us motivated to press on. Everyone was very tired at the end of today. It was the sixth (of eight) straight riding days for most, following yesterday’s difficult climb.
As we get closer to the New Mexican border, the landscape has become more arid and barren, but the beautiful vistas continue.
For the last several miles of the day, snow-topped Mt. Graham, at 10,420’, was the dominant feature that kept our attention.
Mt. Graham
Temperature range low 50’s to mid-80’s
Upon leaving Globe, the road conditions changed quickly to far less traffic and a better road surface and shoulder. I rode solo for the first 35 miles, most of this distance through the San Carlos Apache Reservation. I appreciated the quiet morning as the haze lifted from the mountains undulating in the distance. While we had a net loss of elevation in this stretch, there were a series of medium length hills to climb between the descents.
At the 35-mile mark, I caught up with a group of four women just as the headwind kicked in. We remained together for the rest of the ride, alternating pulling every mile. Anticipation of a stop at Taylor Freeze, around mile 65, kept us motivated to press on. Everyone was very tired at the end of today. It was the sixth (of eight) straight riding days for most, following yesterday’s difficult climb.
As we get closer to the New Mexican border, the landscape has become more arid and barren, but the beautiful vistas continue.
For the last several miles of the day, snow-topped Mt. Graham, at 10,420’, was the dominant feature that kept our attention.
Mt. GrahamMonday, March 16, 2009
Day 10, March 15: Apache Junction to Globe, AZ
57 of 57 miles
Temperature range mid-50’s to mid 70’s
Today was billed as one of the toughest rides of the Southern Tier and it did not disappoint. We started riding at sunrise in anticipation of a long day of climbing. Below are the elevations for today’s ride from the Adventure Cycling maps.
The road was relatively flat out of Apache Junction to Florence for about 15 miles with the Superstition Mountains to the north.
A group stopped to fix the first flat of the day and to stretch out leg muscles.
Superstition Mountains, now to the northwestNext, we began a 15-mile climb over Gonzales Pass at 2651’ with a slight descent into the town of Superior. The scenery was spectacular with yellow poppies and numerous other wildflowers (photos at the end of post) lining the roadside. We ate lunch at the Buckboard Restaurant, also the site of the World’s Smallest Museum, which I took a two-minute detour to explore in detail.
Looking back toward Apache Junction
Superior, AZThen the real fun started. During the next 10 miles, we gained 2000’ at a 7 % grade, traveling over a long bridge traversing the steep gorge of Queen Creek and, then, through the Queen Creek Tunnel. We reached the crest of the climb at the Signal Mountain Pass at 4600’. Finally, we had a long descent through road construction into the town of Miami, followed by another 5-mile climb to our hotel in Globe.
Queen Creek Bridge
The grade we just rode up 
Signal Mountain Pass 
Globe is quite a grim industrial town that I later learned is the gateway to Roosevelt Lake, a popular destination for Phoenix and Tucson residents. That explained the volume of traffic on the road all day, a Sunday with magnificent weather. RV’s were particularly plentiful, one of which buzzed not five feet from my left shoulder and did the same to many other riders. This, combined with the lack of road shoulders during the final 25 miles, made for less than ideal riding conditions where you had to be alert every moment.
However, despite the traffic and road hazards, the views were magnificent and the landscape was truly breathtaking. I felt a sense of accomplishment to have finished such a challenging ride.
However, despite the traffic and road hazards, the views were magnificent and the landscape was truly breathtaking. I felt a sense of accomplishment to have finished such a challenging ride.
Day 9, March 14: Phoenix to Apache Junction, AZ
59 of 59 miles
Temperature range mid-50's to mid-80's
Today’s ride was through suburban Phoenix from the northwest to the southeast. Phoenix is a sprawling metropolitan area that requires two full days of riding to get through it.
Immediately following breakfast a local television station interviewed one of our riders who is raising money for ovarian cancer research.
Several of us decided to take an eight-mile detour to visit the Desert Botanical Gardens, where Dale Chihuly’s glass sculptures are the current special exhibit. The display was quite spectacular—the highlight of the day.
Superstition Mountains, heading into Apache Junction
Temperature range mid-50's to mid-80's
Today’s ride was through suburban Phoenix from the northwest to the southeast. Phoenix is a sprawling metropolitan area that requires two full days of riding to get through it.
Immediately following breakfast a local television station interviewed one of our riders who is raising money for ovarian cancer research.
Several of us decided to take an eight-mile detour to visit the Desert Botanical Gardens, where Dale Chihuly’s glass sculptures are the current special exhibit. The display was quite spectacular—the highlight of the day.
Superstition Mountains, heading into Apache Junction Saturday, March 14, 2009
Day 8, March 13: Wickenberg to Phoenix, AZ
SAG driver; 0 of 67 miles
The first 40 miles today were through typical Arizona desert and featured a long downhill into northwest metropolitan Phoenix. The final 27 miles covered suburban, populated areas.
Globe mallow
Lupine
The weather was perfect—not as cool in the morning and not as warm in the afternoon as recent days. My job as a SAG driver was easier on this second rotation as riders have found companions of like riding habits and I can more reasonably predict when to expect them at the appointed rest stops.
The first 40 miles today were through typical Arizona desert and featured a long downhill into northwest metropolitan Phoenix. The final 27 miles covered suburban, populated areas.
Globe mallow
Lupine The weather was perfect—not as cool in the morning and not as warm in the afternoon as recent days. My job as a SAG driver was easier on this second rotation as riders have found companions of like riding habits and I can more reasonably predict when to expect them at the appointed rest stops.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Day 7, March 12: Salome to Wickenberg, AZ
56 of 56 miles
Temperature range from 45 to high 70's
Today the riding was mostly through desert flats with a 1-2 % uphill grade and an occasional steeper uphill or downhill section. The road surface was an annoying chip seal that, we’re told, is also prevalent in Texas. There was also a moderate headwind most of the day. I rode with two other women all day and we labeled ourselves the “riding wounded” due to our various physical ailments. The last five miles into Wickenberg was a medium downhill, always welcome at the end of the day.
The highlight of the day came just four miles into the ride this morning when we visited Ingredients, a coffeehouse that you would never dream you would find in such an isolated spot. I am not a coffee drinker but I couldn’t resist the mocha coffee. The mom and daughter team have been looking forward to our passage for some time. It has been a favorite stop for WomanTours riders in past years as well.
Elisabeth, Peggy, and Carol
Temperature range from 45 to high 70's
Today the riding was mostly through desert flats with a 1-2 % uphill grade and an occasional steeper uphill or downhill section. The road surface was an annoying chip seal that, we’re told, is also prevalent in Texas. There was also a moderate headwind most of the day. I rode with two other women all day and we labeled ourselves the “riding wounded” due to our various physical ailments. The last five miles into Wickenberg was a medium downhill, always welcome at the end of the day.
The highlight of the day came just four miles into the ride this morning when we visited Ingredients, a coffeehouse that you would never dream you would find in such an isolated spot. I am not a coffee drinker but I couldn’t resist the mocha coffee. The mom and daughter team have been looking forward to our passage for some time. It has been a favorite stop for WomanTours riders in past years as well.
Elisabeth, Peggy, and Carol
Day 6, March 11: Blythe, CA to Salome, AZ
64 of 64 miles
Temperature range from low 50's to mid-80's
Immediately upon leaving Blythe we crossed the Colorado River and entered Arizona, our first state line crossing. We contemplated diving off the bridge but, not being rule-breakers, we thought better of it.
We passed through the Colorado River Indian Reservation and entered I-10 for an 18-mile stretch that was marred by a fatal car accident—several riders saw the car weaving down the highway at high speed with the state police in hot pursuit. Michelle, our trip leader, pulled up to the accident just as we went by, her heart in her throat in fear that one of the riders might be involved. Thank goodness, we’re all safe.
We exited at Quartzite, a town well known to rock collectors. It is a typical western desert outpost with tacky RV parks galore, although our Arizona rider commented on the decreased volume of tourists in the area for this time of year due to the economy. Unfortunately, we missed the local legend who is usually found wandering the town sans clothes. I, for one, was cruelly disappointed. We had our first break of the day at Sweet Darlene’s where the so-called ambiance of the pre-fab building belied the taste of the sticky buns which, I am told, were delicious.
We re-entered I-10 for another 11-mile section, lined beautifully with wildflowers along the roadside and mountains across the desert in the distance. We also had our first saguaro sighting.
During the next 20 miles we had a stiff headwind and a very bumpy and noisy road surface. I began to tire and fell back from my first group of riders, to pulling the next group, to being pulled. I was getting discouraged when, finally, I realized that I had a flat that I had been riding on for quite a long time, unnoticed due to the road conditions. We changed the flat and, in no time, made our way to Hope, where someone is in dire need of a grammar and spelling lesson.
I was completely exhausted when we reached our motel in beautiful, downtown Salome, as were virtually all the other riders. While it didn’t seem that we covered any dramatically uphill sections, we did have a vertical of about 2600’, and the combination of headwinds and bad road surface was very tiring.
The Sheffler Motel is not, as they say, AAA rated, but I quite liked it. We had 50’s style metal rocking chairs on the veranda that, once sitting in them, folks had a hard time getting up.
As we had crossed a state line, we had the traditional margarita cocktail hour before enjoying one of Chef Linda’s wonderful dinners. Lights were out very early tonight.
Temperature range from low 50's to mid-80's
Immediately upon leaving Blythe we crossed the Colorado River and entered Arizona, our first state line crossing. We contemplated diving off the bridge but, not being rule-breakers, we thought better of it.
We passed through the Colorado River Indian Reservation and entered I-10 for an 18-mile stretch that was marred by a fatal car accident—several riders saw the car weaving down the highway at high speed with the state police in hot pursuit. Michelle, our trip leader, pulled up to the accident just as we went by, her heart in her throat in fear that one of the riders might be involved. Thank goodness, we’re all safe.
We exited at Quartzite, a town well known to rock collectors. It is a typical western desert outpost with tacky RV parks galore, although our Arizona rider commented on the decreased volume of tourists in the area for this time of year due to the economy. Unfortunately, we missed the local legend who is usually found wandering the town sans clothes. I, for one, was cruelly disappointed. We had our first break of the day at Sweet Darlene’s where the so-called ambiance of the pre-fab building belied the taste of the sticky buns which, I am told, were delicious.
We re-entered I-10 for another 11-mile section, lined beautifully with wildflowers along the roadside and mountains across the desert in the distance. We also had our first saguaro sighting.
During the next 20 miles we had a stiff headwind and a very bumpy and noisy road surface. I began to tire and fell back from my first group of riders, to pulling the next group, to being pulled. I was getting discouraged when, finally, I realized that I had a flat that I had been riding on for quite a long time, unnoticed due to the road conditions. We changed the flat and, in no time, made our way to Hope, where someone is in dire need of a grammar and spelling lesson.
I was completely exhausted when we reached our motel in beautiful, downtown Salome, as were virtually all the other riders. While it didn’t seem that we covered any dramatically uphill sections, we did have a vertical of about 2600’, and the combination of headwinds and bad road surface was very tiring.
The Sheffler Motel is not, as they say, AAA rated, but I quite liked it. We had 50’s style metal rocking chairs on the veranda that, once sitting in them, folks had a hard time getting up.
As we had crossed a state line, we had the traditional margarita cocktail hour before enjoying one of Chef Linda’s wonderful dinners. Lights were out very early tonight.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Day 5, March 10: Blythe, CA
Rest Day
This rest day was a welcome event—time to do laundry, catch up on the blog, and to reorganize packing and gear. Michelle, the trip leader, led a tire changing and bike cleaning session this morning. It was very helpful, and I can now change a tube without touching the chain—a handy trick.
This rest day was a welcome event—time to do laundry, catch up on the blog, and to reorganize packing and gear. Michelle, the trip leader, led a tire changing and bike cleaning session this morning. It was very helpful, and I can now change a tube without touching the chain—a handy trick.
There will be eight straight riding days through the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico before the next rest day. I will have two SAG rotations during that period to provide breaks.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Day 4, March 9: Brawley to Blythe, CA
90 of 90 miles
This was a spectacular day of riding. The weather was perfect, from 48 degrees at the 7 AM start to the low 80’s by the mid-afternoon finish. The earlier part of the day was predominantly flat, passing grazing fields and through desert.
Everyone noted that we were experiencing a fairly strong tailwind, confirmed when we passed by the entrance to the Glamis Duners Country Club (I doubt that they have a long waiting list) with the flags blown straight out. We estimated 20 MPH winds.
From the sand dunes through the Chocolate Mountains, which is a U.S. Naval Reservation aerial gunnery range, there were several miles of “dips” where you could gain enough speed going downhill to pretty much get you up the other side. Sight lines for vehicles were somewhat limited and, with no road shoulders, the passing of tractor-trailers and RV’s was a bit nerve-racking for us two-wheelers.
The road returned to flat as we approached Palo Verde through fields of alfalfa, cotton, and sugar beets, irrigated from the Colorado River of which we were able to get a glimpse.
There were countless photo opportunities, including an abundance of wildflowers along the way.
We gained a total vertical of 2000’ for the day, but the combination of terrain and tailwinds made it painless.
This was a spectacular day of riding. The weather was perfect, from 48 degrees at the 7 AM start to the low 80’s by the mid-afternoon finish. The earlier part of the day was predominantly flat, passing grazing fields and through desert.
Our first SAG stop was adjacent to a fenced off live bombing area. Near Glamis, with the Chocolate Mountains in the distance, we rode through the Imperial Sand Dunes Recreational Area, where the sand has interesting color variations depending on shadows and sun angle. There is a marked decrease in vegetation in areas that allow ATV’s.
Everyone noted that we were experiencing a fairly strong tailwind, confirmed when we passed by the entrance to the Glamis Duners Country Club (I doubt that they have a long waiting list) with the flags blown straight out. We estimated 20 MPH winds.
From the sand dunes through the Chocolate Mountains, which is a U.S. Naval Reservation aerial gunnery range, there were several miles of “dips” where you could gain enough speed going downhill to pretty much get you up the other side. Sight lines for vehicles were somewhat limited and, with no road shoulders, the passing of tractor-trailers and RV’s was a bit nerve-racking for us two-wheelers.
The road returned to flat as we approached Palo Verde through fields of alfalfa, cotton, and sugar beets, irrigated from the Colorado River of which we were able to get a glimpse.
There were countless photo opportunities, including an abundance of wildflowers along the way.
We gained a total vertical of 2000’ for the day, but the combination of terrain and tailwinds made it painless.
Day 3, March 8: Jacumba to Brawley, CA
SAG driver; 0 of 67 miles
It was below freezing this morning in Jacumba when we gathered for an outdoor breakfast at 7:15 just as the sun was rising. Most riders were on the road well before eight. Today I drove SAG, so I waited for the last rider to depart before heading out in Little Bo Peep to the first SAG stop.
This was the reward ride for the past two days of hills. There was a steady climb for about five miles out of Jacumba to about 3250’, followed by a drop to below sea level over the next ten miles. The ride continued on flats with temperatures in the mid-70’s through the Yuha Desert, where wildflowers were in bloom, and the Imperial Valley agricultural towns of Seeley and El Centro, where we passed the Holly Sugar Factory where a silo had a sea level indicator painted well above ground level. Most riders arrived in Brawley by mid-afternoon in time to give their bikes a good cleaning or to swim in the heated pool.
The high excitement of the day occurred just outside of Jacumba, a town known for drug trafficking, where both the Border Patrol and local vigilante groups have an active presence. One of our riders came across a couple of pickup trucks driving wildly through the scrub brush. A driver jumped out with gun in hand, pointed to a bush, and said, “Come out! I know you’re there”. The rider rode on by hoping not to get caught in the crossfire. As she attempted to call 911, another group of riders came through and notified a Border Patrol agent patrolling close by who immediately sped off to investigate. Menacing dogs were a minor annoyance today giving riders some practice for the southern states. Apparently, Brawley has the dubious distinction of having the highest unemployment rate in the country. I’m sure it has a lot of company.
It was below freezing this morning in Jacumba when we gathered for an outdoor breakfast at 7:15 just as the sun was rising. Most riders were on the road well before eight. Today I drove SAG, so I waited for the last rider to depart before heading out in Little Bo Peep to the first SAG stop.
This was the reward ride for the past two days of hills. There was a steady climb for about five miles out of Jacumba to about 3250’, followed by a drop to below sea level over the next ten miles. The ride continued on flats with temperatures in the mid-70’s through the Yuha Desert, where wildflowers were in bloom, and the Imperial Valley agricultural towns of Seeley and El Centro, where we passed the Holly Sugar Factory where a silo had a sea level indicator painted well above ground level. Most riders arrived in Brawley by mid-afternoon in time to give their bikes a good cleaning or to swim in the heated pool.
The high excitement of the day occurred just outside of Jacumba, a town known for drug trafficking, where both the Border Patrol and local vigilante groups have an active presence. One of our riders came across a couple of pickup trucks driving wildly through the scrub brush. A driver jumped out with gun in hand, pointed to a bush, and said, “Come out! I know you’re there”. The rider rode on by hoping not to get caught in the crossfire. As she attempted to call 911, another group of riders came through and notified a Border Patrol agent patrolling close by who immediately sped off to investigate. Menacing dogs were a minor annoyance today giving riders some practice for the southern states. Apparently, Brawley has the dubious distinction of having the highest unemployment rate in the country. I’m sure it has a lot of company.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Day 2, March 7: Alpine to Jacumba, CA
47 of 47 miles
The climbing started right out of the block this morning in chilly weather. It didn’t take long to shed layers as, from an elevation of 2000’ in Alpine, three times we closed in on 4000’ with a total vertical gain of about 3400’ for the day. The day ended with a descent into Jacumba at 2800’. The climbs were manageable, just very long. The appearance of large windmills atop the mountains was our first clue that, yes, perhaps there might be some wind. Twenty MPH headwinds stayed with us for most of the second half of the day. The terrain was sparsely vegetated with wildflowers and scrub brush, and huge boulders dotted the landscape. There was a lot of glass on the road—four others and I had flats.
I had my first experience riding on an interstate, just a short section of I-8 (less intimidating than riding Longboat Key in March). We passed through the small town of Pine Valley in the late morning where many riders took advantage of the assortment of pies at the local diner. I resisted the pie, but I refuse to share how many link sausage I consumed.
The climbs continued in earnest after Pine Valley, a view from the Tecate Divide being a highlight of the day.
From whence we came
Tecate Divide
By the time I arrived at the Jacumba Hot Springs Lodge, a funky 60’s style establishment, I was hallucinating about how wonderful the hot tub would feel. It did not disappoint and I pointed the jets directly at my sore lower back and the soles of my feet. Linda prepared another fabulous meal of turkey burritos and two salads. I was completely exhausted and turned in early.
The climbing started right out of the block this morning in chilly weather. It didn’t take long to shed layers as, from an elevation of 2000’ in Alpine, three times we closed in on 4000’ with a total vertical gain of about 3400’ for the day. The day ended with a descent into Jacumba at 2800’. The climbs were manageable, just very long. The appearance of large windmills atop the mountains was our first clue that, yes, perhaps there might be some wind. Twenty MPH headwinds stayed with us for most of the second half of the day. The terrain was sparsely vegetated with wildflowers and scrub brush, and huge boulders dotted the landscape. There was a lot of glass on the road—four others and I had flats.
I had my first experience riding on an interstate, just a short section of I-8 (less intimidating than riding Longboat Key in March). We passed through the small town of Pine Valley in the late morning where many riders took advantage of the assortment of pies at the local diner. I resisted the pie, but I refuse to share how many link sausage I consumed.
The climbs continued in earnest after Pine Valley, a view from the Tecate Divide being a highlight of the day.
From whence we came
Tecate DivideWe passed through the La Posta Indian Reservation and knew we were close to Mexico by the frequency of Border Patrol vehicles passing by. Eventually the border fence came into view.
By the time I arrived at the Jacumba Hot Springs Lodge, a funky 60’s style establishment, I was hallucinating about how wonderful the hot tub would feel. It did not disappoint and I pointed the jets directly at my sore lower back and the soles of my feet. Linda prepared another fabulous meal of turkey burritos and two salads. I was completely exhausted and turned in early.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Day 1, March 6: San Diego to Alpine, CA
38 of 38 miles
All riders were awake this morning long before it was necessary for our 7 AM breakfast and 8 AM ride start. I just wanted to get on the road. We rode the three miles to Dog Beach at Ocean Beach for the official start. Allan and Jocelyne Broadribb from Sarasota (Allan flies gliders with Tony) happened to be visiting family near San Diego and they met me at Dog Beach for the festivities, which included the traditional dipping of the rear tire in the Pacific. It was a genuinely nice gesture for them to take time from their vacation to see me off!
By 9 AM we were on our way, on a bike path out of San Diego. Finally, the ride has begun! It was a very exciting moment with so many people cheering us on as we left town. The terrain was rolling hills for the first 25 miles as we dodged city and suburb traffic, and interstate entrance and exit ramps. The final ten miles consisted of a series of several long hills, mostly at very manageable grades. There were a few scenic vistas along the way. Only one person had a flat tire. And, only one person got lost, but quite lost so it seems. She did ten extra miles of hills. Most riders pulled into Alpine before 1:30-2 PM.
Linda Baldwin, our chef, put on a great spread for dinner including fresh fish prepared in her tiny kitchen in the back of the WomanTours van. The surprise at the end of dinner was a delicious birthday cake for me—yes, this birthday celebration has been going on for several days—arranged for by Tony in coordination with Linda. Not only did the riders appreciate this for tonight’s dessert, but I believe we have enough for tomorrow and Sunday as well. Therefore, I guess we will keep celebrating my 60th!
Carol and Jocelyne
Carol, Nancy, and Peggy at Dog Beach
Goodbyes and Hellos
Jesse always senses that something is amiss when the rolling suitcases come out—the telltale sign that a kennel stay is in her immediate future. She wouldn’t leave Tony’s side on Monday and pawed our forearms the entire ride to the Tampa airport. However, this time, she has the pleasant reward of having Tony all to herself for two months. Goodbye to Tony until our reunion in Kerrville, Texas.
The plane ride was noteworthy in that I took a “voluntary bump” in Denver in exchange for a round trip voucher for use within the next two years. And, I only arrived in San Diego three hours late—a fine tradeoff, I’d say. My Vermont friends, Peggy and Nancy, were waiting in the hotel lobby to greet me and to catch up on our lives since I left for Sarasota in December.
Our bikes were delivered on Wednesday morning and six of us took a 20-mile test ride through the harbor islands and beach area. The first casualty of the trip occurred within the first half hour. Connie was leading the ride as, being from greater San Diego, she knows the area well. We stopped to assess the best route across a grass field. I believe that, in retrospect, she would be the first to suggest that it is never a great idea to start pedaling forward when you’re looking backward. As she turned to face forward again she immediately rode smack into a substantial tree limb. Here is Connie, with the limb in the background, after our very best first aid efforts.
After such a traumatic event we all agreed that a little lunch would help to soothe Connie’s wounds. Laurey, a caterer from Asheville, NC, insisted that we MUST have fish tacos, apparently a San Diego delicacy in the broadest interpretation of the term, for lunch. They were excellent. Wednesday evening several of the riders treated me to dinner to celebrate my 60th birthday—it was a fitting end to a wonderful day.
I ventured out for a solo ride for a few miles on Thursday and found a spot with a great view a few hundred feet above the Pacific on Point Loma. By Thursday afternoon, all of the riders had arrived. The trip leaders held an informational meeting and went over the cue sheet for the Day 1 ride. Afterwards, the four SAG drivers met, reviewed our responsibilities, and agreed on the preliminary rotation. On Thursday evening WomanTours held the opening banquet which was also attended by many spouses, partners, family, and friends.
The plane ride was noteworthy in that I took a “voluntary bump” in Denver in exchange for a round trip voucher for use within the next two years. And, I only arrived in San Diego three hours late—a fine tradeoff, I’d say. My Vermont friends, Peggy and Nancy, were waiting in the hotel lobby to greet me and to catch up on our lives since I left for Sarasota in December.
Our bikes were delivered on Wednesday morning and six of us took a 20-mile test ride through the harbor islands and beach area. The first casualty of the trip occurred within the first half hour. Connie was leading the ride as, being from greater San Diego, she knows the area well. We stopped to assess the best route across a grass field. I believe that, in retrospect, she would be the first to suggest that it is never a great idea to start pedaling forward when you’re looking backward. As she turned to face forward again she immediately rode smack into a substantial tree limb. Here is Connie, with the limb in the background, after our very best first aid efforts.
After such a traumatic event we all agreed that a little lunch would help to soothe Connie’s wounds. Laurey, a caterer from Asheville, NC, insisted that we MUST have fish tacos, apparently a San Diego delicacy in the broadest interpretation of the term, for lunch. They were excellent. Wednesday evening several of the riders treated me to dinner to celebrate my 60th birthday—it was a fitting end to a wonderful day.
I ventured out for a solo ride for a few miles on Thursday and found a spot with a great view a few hundred feet above the Pacific on Point Loma. By Thursday afternoon, all of the riders had arrived. The trip leaders held an informational meeting and went over the cue sheet for the Day 1 ride. Afterwards, the four SAG drivers met, reviewed our responsibilities, and agreed on the preliminary rotation. On Thursday evening WomanTours held the opening banquet which was also attended by many spouses, partners, family, and friends.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Logistics
Last week my bike underwent its pre-trip tune up at Ryder Bikes in Bradenton. They are a very service-oriented crew, completing the work with a quick turnaround so that I lost no training time. On Monday, the Ryder team carefully disassembled and packed the bike for shipment to San Diego, all while I waited. And how’s this for service: the car battery died during the wait, so one of the fellows drove to his Dad’s house, retrieved jumper cables, and jump-started the car. A lifesaver, as I had to get the bike to Fed Ex by the end of the business day to meet the delivery deadline in California. I hope that Fed Ex does as professional a job as Ryder and delivers the bike in pristine condition.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
More Training
I resumed training in earnest on December 4th in Sarasota. I bike four days a week with the Sarasota Manatee Bike Club and at least two other days solo or with Tony. I’ve been averaging about 150 miles/week, hitting a high of 204 miles last week. The Club’s “B” and “C” riders have been incredibly supportive and I pace myself for either speed or endurance depending on my energy level. I do know that I am a much stronger rider today than I was when I arrived just 11 weeks ago.
On February 8, 30 Club members rode the Withlacoochee Trail, north of Tampa, with most cyclists covering about 50 miles. To commemorate El Parent’s 71st birthday, he, Charlie Morris, and I rode 71 miles, joining the rest of the group at the lunch stop. It was 39 degrees at the 8 am start, warming to the mid-70’s by the afternoon. A perfect day—
On February 8, 30 Club members rode the Withlacoochee Trail, north of Tampa, with most cyclists covering about 50 miles. To commemorate El Parent’s 71st birthday, he, Charlie Morris, and I rode 71 miles, joining the rest of the group at the lunch stop. It was 39 degrees at the 8 am start, warming to the mid-70’s by the afternoon. A perfect day—
Carol, El, and Charlie on the WithlacoocheeA highlight of training has been meeting and riding with several of the women with whom I will share the XC journey. WomanTours mailed out the initial roster last June, updating it periodically as riders joined or dropped out. To my surprise, two riders, Peggy Kehew and Nancy Kelley, hail from Vermont not more than 30 miles from my New Hampshire home in Meriden (turns out that Peggy’s daughter and my daughter know each other from secondary school—small world). We made contact and agreed to meet for a Friday ride. We ended up riding almost every Friday from July through October, alternating responsibility for choosing an interesting route.
Carol, Nancy, and Peggy in Lyme, NHOne of the routes took us by Charles Bronson’s gravesite where we sat on the wrought iron bench, munched our granola bars, and read the verse etched into the stone, Mary Frye’s haunting poem “Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep” (also sung by the Angel Band). I digress, but digression is part of the beauty of cycling. It is just so easy to hit the brakes to take in a beautiful view or to check out the wildflowers.
Brownsville Cemetery, VTIn October Peggy, Nancy, and I met Robin Sewell, another XC rider from Massachusetts, for a ride in southern New Hampshire through the gorgeous towns of Hancock, Peterborough, and Harrisville. Weather was not on our side with the temperature hovering around 45 degrees in pelting rain. We were undeterred and particularly enjoyed our lunch break at the Harrisville General Store. My theory is, when you get the first inkling that you are about to utter a complaint, just have another bite of hot chili and everything seems right in the world. I digress again—
Another XC rider, Lois Schneider, lives in Sarasota and we have biked together several times since December. Our best trip was a circumnavigation of Myakka State Park where we saw wild pigs, a fox, a variety of bird life and, of course, alligators.
Another XC rider, Lois Schneider, lives in Sarasota and we have biked together several times since December. Our best trip was a circumnavigation of Myakka State Park where we saw wild pigs, a fox, a variety of bird life and, of course, alligators.
Lois is an accomplished cyclist who did the Underground Railroad ride for 30 days with WomanTours last year, and whose training regimen puts me to shame. We have had a great time reveling in discussions of the political landscape and sharing our thoughts on the abundance of good films bombarding theatres here during the past couple of months.
Training is starting to wind down now. My bike ships out next week, after which I will borrow Tony’s bike for a few rides to stay limber. I know he is not pleased at the prospect. He is convinced I’ll be making snide comments because his rig is a step down for me now. He’s right, but I’ll try to remain tight-lipped just to surprise him.
Training is starting to wind down now. My bike ships out next week, after which I will borrow Tony’s bike for a few rides to stay limber. I know he is not pleased at the prospect. He is convinced I’ll be making snide comments because his rig is a step down for me now. He’s right, but I’ll try to remain tight-lipped just to surprise him.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Training
Based on training guidelines provided by WomanTours and on my own research, a six-month training program is ideal, building from 75-100 miles/week in the first months to 150-200+ miles/week in the final month. Cross-training and resistance weights also have their benefits, although I did not partake.
I maintained a 75-150 mile/week schedule from February to early November, the first three months in Florida and the last six months in New Hampshire/Vermont. My typical week was 100-120 miles, interspersed with a couple of lazy weeks and a few higher mileage weeks when I cycled special events or did a multi-day trip.
Montreal Cyclefest with New London Chain Gang
Chain Gang trip to western VT, Tony relaxing to right of entrance
I maintained a 75-150 mile/week schedule from February to early November, the first three months in Florida and the last six months in New Hampshire/Vermont. My typical week was 100-120 miles, interspersed with a couple of lazy weeks and a few higher mileage weeks when I cycled special events or did a multi-day trip.
Montreal Cyclefest with New London Chain Gang
Chain Gang trip to western VT, Tony relaxing to right of entranceWhat the Florida terrain lacks in vertical and elevation, it makes up for in headwind intensity. Some days it seems there is a headwind regardless of the direction in which you ride. This is where the pace line comes into play, and my special talent for finding the tallest male possible to ride behind is indispensable. The hills of New England also provide challenges, usually not so much for their length as for their grade. I only walked sections of two hills last summer, and I am told that the hills we’ll be tackling in California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas are noteworthy more for their length than grade. I hope so, as I left behind the terrific granny gear with my previous bike.
I took the month of November off from training. Tony and I did a scouting trip to New Mexico to decide whether we would want to move there. While we enjoyed the visit, we prefer Sarasota for a variety of reasons. We did, however, decide to check out a section of the Southern Tier between Kingston and Silver City which we drove in the reverse of what I’ll be cycling. People often say that if you want to find out whether a road has an upgrade, ask a cyclist. I will be the first to say that you don’t need to be a cyclist to recognize these hills, as the route goes over the Continental Divide in a dizzying sort of way. Be sure to catch my post on March 20 when I will share the gory details after I ride it.
I took the month of November off from training. Tony and I did a scouting trip to New Mexico to decide whether we would want to move there. While we enjoyed the visit, we prefer Sarasota for a variety of reasons. We did, however, decide to check out a section of the Southern Tier between Kingston and Silver City which we drove in the reverse of what I’ll be cycling. People often say that if you want to find out whether a road has an upgrade, ask a cyclist. I will be the first to say that you don’t need to be a cyclist to recognize these hills, as the route goes over the Continental Divide in a dizzying sort of way. Be sure to catch my post on March 20 when I will share the gory details after I ride it.
Equipment
For the past couple of years I had been riding on what is termed a “comfort road” bike which I outfitted to my specific desires: narrower tires, better gears for hills, and a great saddle. After riding in Florida last winter, with the headwinds that swirl most days, and the cross-country trip in my sightline, I realized that I needed a true road bike with drop bars.
I have been riding a Specialized Roubaix Triple since last June, fine-tuned to my body’s peculiarities (really, do I have to explain?) by the folks at Goodale’s Bike Shop in New Hampshire. While I’ve named some of my cars, my favorite being Snaggletooth, I don’t currently have plans to name the bike.
Over the past few months communication has been frequent, sometimes frenzied, with my XC compatriots about equipment. A few of the women have done a XC or two previously and their suggestions for bike equipment and clothing have been most helpful. WomanTours has also provided guidance with regular correspondence addressing equipment questions and concerns. I believe I have everything that I need to be safe and comfortable during the trip. I do worry a bit about the cold, but I’ve biked at 32 degrees in dry weather and 45 degrees in rain during training, managing to stay relatively warm and dry, so I’m letting it go for now.
I have been riding a Specialized Roubaix Triple since last June, fine-tuned to my body’s peculiarities (really, do I have to explain?) by the folks at Goodale’s Bike Shop in New Hampshire. While I’ve named some of my cars, my favorite being Snaggletooth, I don’t currently have plans to name the bike.
I use a Topeak rear rack bag to store equipment and tools and as a repository for clothing no longer needed. The bag is fairly compact but has decent capacity with an expandable central compartment and panniers that fold out from the zippers on each side. The blinking fog light on the rear of the bag is a safety necessity.
Over the past few months communication has been frequent, sometimes frenzied, with my XC compatriots about equipment. A few of the women have done a XC or two previously and their suggestions for bike equipment and clothing have been most helpful. WomanTours has also provided guidance with regular correspondence addressing equipment questions and concerns. I believe I have everything that I need to be safe and comfortable during the trip. I do worry a bit about the cold, but I’ve biked at 32 degrees in dry weather and 45 degrees in rain during training, managing to stay relatively warm and dry, so I’m letting it go for now.Why and Why Now?
Biking is one of the many sports that Tony and I have enjoyed during our 35 years together. It has been the centerpiece of some of our best vacations—France, Germany, New Zealand, PEI, Croatia—sometimes as a couple and sometimes with our kids, Andrew and Allie. It’s a wonderful way to experience the countryside—faster than hiking but slower than a car.
Tony (yellow jacket) & Carol (beige jacket), Croatia
Tony, Germany
Allie, New Zealand
After we moved to New Hampshire five years ago, great biking was so much more accessible than in the Boston area and I had more time to take advantage of the opportunity.
Paradise
As my body responded less favorably to squash, my sport of choice for the previous 15 years (truth be told, being pummeled by relative newcomers to the sport 30 years my junior might have also played a role), cycling seemed kinder to my joints, muscles, and psyche. I upgraded my equipment and ventured back out.
Last year we escaped the cold and grey of New Hampshire for our first winter in Florida.
Not Paradise
Tony (yellow jacket) & Carol (beige jacket), Croatia
Tony, Germany
Allie, New ZealandAfter we moved to New Hampshire five years ago, great biking was so much more accessible than in the Boston area and I had more time to take advantage of the opportunity.
ParadiseAs my body responded less favorably to squash, my sport of choice for the previous 15 years (truth be told, being pummeled by relative newcomers to the sport 30 years my junior might have also played a role), cycling seemed kinder to my joints, muscles, and psyche. I upgraded my equipment and ventured back out.
Last year we escaped the cold and grey of New Hampshire for our first winter in Florida.
Not ParadiseWe biked some with the local bike club, the Sarasota Manatee Bike Club, and I frequently biked solo. I realized that I wanted to get more serious about training. Then the light bulb went off—
I turn 60 (yikes!) on March 4th. A long distance cycling trip seemed to be a momentous way to welcome in the new decade. Planning the trip well in advance provided a great conditioning and fitness goal. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I hope to shed a few pounds along the way.
I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive about raising this idea with Tony: the cost, two months apart—. To my relief, he has been behind me on this from the get go and has been one of my biggest fans during the training. We ride together frequently when he’s not flying his glider. He’ll be out to visit for what we wryly refer to as our conjugal visit during my rest day near Austin, Texas.
I must admit that I was a bit apprehensive about raising this idea with Tony: the cost, two months apart—. To my relief, he has been behind me on this from the get go and has been one of my biggest fans during the training. We ride together frequently when he’s not flying his glider. He’ll be out to visit for what we wryly refer to as our conjugal visit during my rest day near Austin, Texas.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Just the Facts, Ma'am
On March 3rd I leave Tony and our winter respite in Sarasota for San Diego where I will begin a cross-country bike trip on March 6th. This journey has been in the planning and training stages for a year. I signed on with WomanTours to traverse what is known as the Southern Tier route, ending in St. Augustine on April 30.
There are 20 riders and three WomanTours staff, one trip leader for each half and our personal chef who drives the chuck wagon. We’ll cover 3,034 miles, averaging 63 miles per cycling day with one rest day per week. The longest ride is 111 miles between Sanderson and Del Rio, Texas (I hope it’s flat); the shortest ride is 32 miles on the first day out of San Diego. The route ranges from backcountry roads to some interstates where there is, unfortunately, no alternative. Most often we’ll stay in moderate motels and hotels, sprinkled occasionally with special B & B’s. The chuck wagon doubles as a gear carrier during the day.
There are four SAG (support and gear) drivers, of whom I’m one, who alternate and, hence, get an extra “rest” day every 4th day. SAG drivers from previous years tell me, however, that it’s the most tiring day because of the myriad responsibilities. These run the gamut from helping to change flats, providing emotional support to weary riders (a reality given the verticals covered on some days), purchasing and stocking food and drinks for the van, first aid, and washing dishes post dinner. Hey, the trip cost discount is substantial and I can put my dormant nursing and management skills to good use.
The structure of the trip meets all of my basic requirements: warm shower after biking, a comfortable bed every night, something other than my bike to carry my gear, and traveling with supportive women.
There are four SAG (support and gear) drivers, of whom I’m one, who alternate and, hence, get an extra “rest” day every 4th day. SAG drivers from previous years tell me, however, that it’s the most tiring day because of the myriad responsibilities. These run the gamut from helping to change flats, providing emotional support to weary riders (a reality given the verticals covered on some days), purchasing and stocking food and drinks for the van, first aid, and washing dishes post dinner. Hey, the trip cost discount is substantial and I can put my dormant nursing and management skills to good use.
The structure of the trip meets all of my basic requirements: warm shower after biking, a comfortable bed every night, something other than my bike to carry my gear, and traveling with supportive women.
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