I've been out of LA for about two weeks, now in Gila Bend, AZ. I stayed at the Space Age Lodge, which fittingly, has a computer available for my use. The last couple of weeks have proceeded by fits and starts; I seem to have trouble with momentum right now. Luckily, there have been some friendly and generous folks along the way to share my stoppages. My camera was out of juice, so I have no pictures between Joshua Tree and Yuma. Hopefully Karen and Briana will send me some. Here's pics I do have.
12/15 - 12/18
Joshua Tree to the Salton Sea
Joshua Tree (I keep typing "Josiah Tree") is much like my favorite camping spot outside of Austin, Enchanted Rock. Granite has been exposed as softer rocks have weathered away around it. The granite too is eroded and split and rounded and totally funky. I love it. I spent three days in Joshua Tree, the first two with camping with Nathan. Kali was out there too during the day, and we all wandered around the desert, checking out the crazy terrain. Kali made a run out to town and picked up wood and steaks and sausages and we had a great time bbqing. It was like being back in Austin, hanging outdoors in wild country eating meat over fire.
Actually, I need to back up a bit. Alex drove out too, to drop me off in the desert. He joined us at the Integratron, something Kali recommended we do. It has some wild acoustics, and we listened to some pure crystal tones for a while. This helped remove some of LA from the mind, and prepare us for the desert.
After Nathan and Kali took off, I camped again in the same spot, this time alone. I ate too much, my body not used to its road ration after lazing around LA. Feeling ill most of the night and morning, I rode out from Jumbo Rocks without eating. It was good to learn that a days ride without food is much easier than a day without water.
The Joshua Tree portion of Mojave Desert was full of yuccas, including the eponymous joshua tree. I rode out of the southern sliver of this desert, into the Colorado Desert portion of the Sonoran desert. The yuccas gave way to creosote. In one transition zone, the landscape was full of chollas. Shortly thereafter, full of ocotillos. I'd see a lot of these over the next two weeks. The granite went away from time to time, showing only the mountains of gneiss, disolving into alluvial flats full of creosote.
Out of Joshua Tree, I rode on Box Canyon Road. Both this and the park road were excellent for cycling, largely devoid of cagers. Box Canyon Road wasn't a box canyon itself, but presented hundreds of such along its sides. These were carved of dirt, it seemed, rippled walls 20-200' high, wending their way away from the road. It too was crazy stuff, but of a wholly different character to that of the park. Too soon, I turned a corner and was at the northern reaches of the Salton Sea, amidst grapefruit and red peppers.
The Salton Sea stinks. The ground around it is encrusted in sulphuric salts, white and yellow covering brown dirt. I moteled a night at Desert Shores, the low point of my trip at 180' below sea level. I had to decide whether to press on South, or head West (West, why would I head West to Austin?!) into the mountains.
12/19 - 12/26
Anza-Borrego
I went West into Anza Borrego Desert State Park. The northeastern portion of the park is carved dirt badlands, not unlike those North of the Salton Sea. It was a hot day, uphill, and I found all sorts of excuses to stop and look at the terrain. By late afternoon, I made it to Borrego Springs, nestled between the mountains. Here I spent several days, drinking beer by the pool and reading The Bear and The Dragon. I guess I needed some vacation time from my trip.
I rode on to Tamarisk Grove on 12/23, and there met one of the other two camping groups. This was Rebecca and Robin's Christmas camping trip, with their families and friends. They took me in and gave me fire and friendship. Larry showed me where to find the potable water. Randy really took me into the group and made me feel welcome; others followed suit. The family invited me to stay for Xmas dinner the 24th, and so I had turkey and ham and all the fixings. Zack and Parker took me offroading in Randy's truck, my first recreational use of a motor vehicle in some years. I got to play some backgammon with Robin, playing to 2-2, though with no cube involved. Ray, the Tampa Cowboy, was a trip, putting Nathan's Sling Blade imitation to shame by mixing it up singing Wild Thing. Briana and Big Zack hosted a trivia game, which all played. For my first Xmas away from my own family, I was with family nonetheless. They sent me away with a card all signed, again more than I'd expected to find for the holiday. I'm glad I found the loud crowd at the campsite, as we had a great time building a monster fire and drinking rum into the wee hours.
I rode on, on Xmas day, fighting wind all the way to Agua Caliente. The road I took was the Southern Overland Route of 1849. The mountain terrain was amazing, again with old granite mountains weathered into flats of creosote, cholla and ocotillo. I took in some spa action, and then had an early night. Again in the morning, I hit the hot pool, and spent a bit of time talking with Laurie and Jeff. They're cycle tourists who'd been van camping down in Mexico. We told tales of rides past, and it was good to connect with folks who knew what I was up to. They also knew Oberlin, with a groan, which was a rare treat. After a slow chatty morning, I didn't get rolling for a while. I figured I'd motel it in Ocotillo, but there was no inn at the inn. So at 3pm I started pushing hard to Calexico, racing the sunset. I got in about 30min after dark, the worst planning I've done so far. Again, the desert helped me go on, presenting a blanket of purple flowers hidden among the creosote. The mountains petered out, with only Signal Mountain to ride around. I made it, and decided not to ride in the dark again. No shoulder on farm roads with weaving drivers is not so much fun.
12/27 - 12/29
Dunering on to Yuma
These were days of most varied riding: "City" riding in Calexico. No shoulder then large shoulder on 98. Headwinds, crosswinds, tailwinds. A frontage road along I-8 that was akin to speed bumps every 3-5'. Onto the highway through the dunes, sand blowing hard into my eyes and mouth. Then onto a country road into a fierce wind, RVs passing thick in both directions. A dirt road then sand road out to the dunes. With my 4L water front panniered, this last bit was like handling a snow mobile.
Near the edge of the dunes, but before the official campground, I ran into a group of a dozen or so RVs. Around a fire stood a group of men, and one beckoned me over. Keith and I introduced ourselves, and he welcomed me to their fire. I set up camp 50 yards from their circled wagons, and then wandered around a bit. The area between the Algodones Dunes and the Chocolate Mountains is a large alluvial plain. Nearer the dunes, where we were camped, is a mile wide wash, little watered. Camped there, in one of the higher spots, there was the usual creosote and ocotillo. Also dotting the wash were palo verde and honey mesquite trees. I made my mashed potato dinner to a wild sunset, and then joined the fire of the RVers.
These folks were like a small town, camped out to enjoy offroad fun in the dunes. This was an outskirts camp, about 10 RVs among a couple dozen. A mile away, closer to the dunes were several hundred RVs. And yet, this was still remote, as on the east side of the dunes were tens of thousands of RVs, with over 100,000 people out for the holiday weekend.
In this small town, we had a wonderful set of characters. Bob was the elder statesman, coming out to the dunes for the last 27 years, full of wisdom and intelligence. John was like the sheriff, managing relations with other camps and their strays, gruff and friendly and reasonable. Keith, aka "the Mayor", aka "Woody", was friendly and funny and something of a wheeler dealer. The ladies, Karen, Laura, and Cindy, all provided balance - schoolteachers and trail blazer - moderating conversation and providing all sorts of tasty food.
I decided to stay a day, and Bob took me out in his buggy. We were a group of 5 buggies, and I managed to get in the one with a Hayabusa engine. I wouldn't have gotten out into the dunes without 'em, and it was one helluva ride. My first pucker moment was going up Patton Hill. We shot straight up the side of this 200' dune avalanche. At the apex of the parabola, the weightless feeling and floating turn to face down - straight down - gave me quite a rush. We noodled around other dunes, watching out for folks on collision course. The dunes are an incredible creation, sometimes rolling, sometimes pushed up in a heap with a vertical face. It was a large sandbox playground, which we enjoyed until John's buggy busted a shock. Heading back, Bob picked a flat stretch to gun the engine. This was the only time I grabbed the oh-shit handle, as I was pressed deep into the back of the seat. Maybe I've had more straight line acceleration once, in a 'vette. We made it back to camp, and there I spent the afternoon. I hit it off with Cindy, in large part because we were the outsiders there, preferring non-motorized forms of entertainment. Still, these were good folks, and they gave me a novel experience and warm company, both of which I cherish.
12/30-12/31
Highway doldrums
I've been on the highway now for about 130 miles over the last two and a half days. It sucks to be riding my so many cars and trucks, whiz whir grrring by. Coming through the Gila Mountains east of Yuma, I got my first flat. This was a dangerous stretch of road, 6% down grade and bendy. It was a doozy to repair, as the nail went half in the tire and then bent in half. I used a wrench to lever it apart after much frustration. I've motelled it three nights in a row now, and I'm tired of that too. Yesterday I was ready to hang it up, and quit the trip. Writing about the good times here helps some. So too do thoughts of desert to come. Tonight, I'm camping out in the Sonoran Desert National Monument. I'm ready again for back roads, fresh air, and stars above.
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