Kings of the road

Ok, obviously a lot of time has transpired since I posted that last blog, but internet scarcity is a small-town problem nearly on par with meth addiction and vegan restaurant shortage.  After leaving the San Diego limits in the early hours of morning, we made our way up the first major climb of the trip, which was jarringly within the first 40 miles of the route.  I love my new bike, and it didn’t take very long to get used to riding a non-fixed gear again, especially when the entire day was spent climbing in the little ring.  Once we reached the top of the pass, the downhill was extreme- steep grades, 40 mph sidewinds, seemingly endless bombing down winding highways with cavalcades of 18 wheelers rushing past.  We rolled into the small town of Ocotillo and hit the local bar to get out of all that crazy-bones wind, and the locals seemed to take a shine to us.  Well, really it was more like they were all drunk and we were a couple of new faces in town who hadn’t heard all of their stories yet.  They steered us towards Jackson’s Hideaway Adult RV Park in town (which wasn’t the rowdy swingers joint that the name would suggest) and all wrote their names down on a piece of paper to certify the personal referral.  A lot of random places mysteriously have “Adult” in their names out here, and we were initially baffled.  I think it might just be a euphemism for “senior”, though, because there’s no debating we’re in senior country.  We’ve received all kinds of comments and advice from spirited oldsters over the course of the last week, a lot of it frustratingly having to do with the fact that we’re crazy for touring without a man with us.  Yeah, ok.  I don’t even bother to respond to that one anymore, and I’m usually the friendliest weirdo on the road.

Jackson was a rascally old-timer and accused us of brushing our hair with hand grenades, which was probably apt.  I wish I could supplement these blog entries with photos, but after hearing comments like those, I guess it’s better for us and any potential readers here that that’s not a possibility.  After riding through the town that Claire was born in (Brawley, CA), we set out for the open desert hauling jugs of water for the stretch of limited services.  Claire said it looked like Tattoine, and I can’t think of a better descriptor.  The wind was insane, and we ended up at a USFS campground in the middle of the desert, surrounded by roaring ATV’s and an open range of sand dunes dotted by the occasional RV.  We pitched our tent behind the primitive bathroom structure for some small protection from the wind, and still woke up with an inch of sand in our tent, sand mysteriously inside all of our possessions, and sand disconcertingly in every human crevice.  Holy crap, spirits were low!  A surly old-timer in the nearest town gave me the low-down on the local ATV scene- apparently the season runs from October to March, and they’ve already had 13 deaths so far in 2008.  And people worry that bike touring is dangerous!

In Quartzsite we received a hot tip about a local book shop famous for the eccentric owner, so we had to check it out.  Again, a photograph would do my description more justice, but we arrived to find a friendly, leather-tanned, long-bearded senior wearing nothing but a crocheted nut guard as he bustled around the store organizing all the used books and collectibles.  What a nice, refreshing break from a long, boring day of grinding endlessly through the desert, desperately hunting for a roadside cactus small enough to outfit in my sunglasses and bike helmet for a photographic opportunity.  Onward to Arizona! 

In Salome, we stayed on an amazing horse ranch owned by a friend of Claire’s mom, an animal masseuse and something of a horse whisperer.  The sunset at the ranch was absolutely beautiful, the people couldn’t be more friendly and hospitable, and we were happy for the opportunity to take showers and relax around the farm.  Groups of people in town undergoing various horse clinics sat around discussing their horse-related progress, and it struck me how happy I am that so many people in this lonely world find their niche.  My library time is up in 45 seconds, but hopefully I’ll be able to update again soon!

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Tags: bike touring, Claire rules, RV parks, Southern Tier