Half the Fun Isn't Getting Here

But we're happy to be in Kerrville TX.
Taking a more direct route than ACA mapped may have been safer, but not easy. Seventy two miles, 3700 climbing feet, chip and seal roads, and 30 mph gusty headwinds made it an interesting ride. Greener terrain and more springlike air helped, though.
Many ranches, of course, but most are for sale. The Wild West appears to be contracted to real estate brokers.
We are the grateful recipients of the hospitality of Mike and Barb Toth, who have homes
here and in Michigan.
I was thrilled to use a real washing machine and spend the evening watching Texan birds, antelope and deer from a kitchen chair vantage point rather than a bicycle seat.

Food fare is transitioning from tacos and chalupas to Texan-style barbecue.
Stopped at a real bicycle shop, got the tandem checked out and all is okay.

Serious Side of Riding the Southern Tier

Following are excerpts of correspondence between Bill, AZ Department of Transportation and Adventure Cycling Association. I post them here for potential riders of this route. Be aware and Beware!



---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Menrath, William (menratwg)
Date: Thursday, April 28, 2011
Subject: Re: Site Feedback or Question
To: "Msanders@azdot.gov"
Cc: Casey Greene , "Jennifer H. Milyko" , "coachkmart@gmail.com"


Dear Mr. Sanders,
I am a bicyclist who was riding from San Diego, CA to Florida. While riding on US 60 west of Globe, AZ I fell victim to what I assume was road rage. A pickup truck driver purposely caused me to crash on the highway. The most serious of my injuries was to my right humorous which suffered four breaks. I recently had reconstructive surgery and face a long recovery time.

The root cause of the problem was not the driver but US 60 itself. That section of highway is inherently unsafe for bicyclists. It has a 12 mile long, 6% downgrade and there are many sections of the road with no paved berm which forces cyclists to share the lane with 18-wheelers and other vehicles going at high speeds. In some places the paved berm is three feet wide but the center 16 or 18 inches of the berm is taken up by a deep rumble strip which pretty much makes it useless for cyclists.

I had been complaining to the Adventure Cycling Association because I was following their route. They suggested that I express my concern to you and that is the purpose of this email. My co-cyclists, David and Karen Martin might also express their opinion of the road.

Thanks for your consideration.

Bill Menrath

________________________________________
From: Jennifer H. Milyko [jhmilyko@adventurecycling.org]
Sent: Wednesday, April 27, 2011 12:19 PM
To: coachkmart@gmail.com; Menrath, William (menratwg)
Cc: Casey Greene
Subject: FW: Site Feedback or Question

Hi Bill and Karen,

In further discussing your experience on the Southern Tier with my
colleagues in the office, I was reminded that we have been in conversation
with the Arizona Department of Transportation about improving the conditions
on US 60 from east of Apache Junction to Globe.

It would be helpful to us - and cyclists on this route in the future - if
you would contact Michael Sanders who is the Bicycle and Pedestrian
Coordinator for Arizona and relate your experience. The more they hear from
cyclists directly, the stronger the argument for improvements. Michael's
contact information follows:

phone: 607-712-8141
Msanders@azdot.gov
Jennifer H. Milyko
Cartographers
800/755-2453 x205
150 E. Pine St., Missoula MT 59802
To: "cgreene@adventurecycling.org"
Subject: RE: Site Feedback or Question
Hi Casey,
You can add one more to your list of 60 complaints about the southern tier route. I'm Karen's buddy who was knocked over by the irate truck driver and suffered significant injuries. Right now I'm recovering from surgery that reconstructed my humorous. Like Karen I'm an experienced cyclist and have toured in the US, Europe, Central America and Asia. There are several sections of the route between San Diego and Globe, AZ that are extremely dangerous with conditions I would not have expected on a professionally designed route. I am sorry now that we didn't design our own route. The least Adventure Cycling should do is include a warning that some sections of the route are extremely hazardous.

Today I learned

How to hike with a loaded tandem.
Texas Hill Country involves rollers, lots of them, steep and curvy. It's tough to gain enough momentum to achieve the thrill Of punch pedaling down them and cruising to the crest. Drivers get quite upset when they round a narrow bend and there you are, huffing and puffing and perhaps wobbling a little bit. If there's also oncoming traffic, I am tempted to dive for the ditch.

Walking bike and baggage up the HILL.

So we are not ashamed to say we walked, rather than rode several of the twenty-one miles we made today to Leakey TX. Pronounced with the long "A." You will offend the locals if you pronounce it as Leeky. Trust me.
After abandoning yesterday's short ride plan, going for the gusto and ending up trashed, today we were able to enjoy fewer miles, and the bonus of lower temps at higher elevation and the nicest scenery yet.
Now inhabiting the DRose Inn, a Harley haven that gracefully accepted two roadies for the day and evening.

Is there a resemblance in hair style?

Texas Tandem Takeover

We met a group of six tandems leaving Leakey, members of the Double Dates, a TX club. They're headed, in cars, to a rally in LaGrange TX. After three days of not seeing a single cyclist on the road, it was nice to talk tandem.
Tomorrow is Kerrville. After today's hill thrills, we're content to again abandon the ACA route, more of today's rollers, for a more direct path. Tomorrow is Friday and knowing Texans enjoy their weekends with automotive gusto in these here hills is enough to make us flatlanders for awhile.
Plus, I'm working on a followup to our friend Bill's situation. He's recovering from his injuries, but the process will be long. Stay safe!

Note to Self

Do not push husband out of motel door at 5:30 am to eat breakfast at Whattaburger and beat the morning traffic rush.
We bid Del Rio a notsofond adios (people were great, cityscape wasn't). Scary traffic, so we detoured to Route 90 on Railway Ave and startled a few chickens and kids waiting for school buses. Got into MORE traffic headed to the Air Force Base. It was a relief to see "just" ten cars per minute for awhile.
Finally got to Brackettville, about 30 miles down what David calls "rock and seal" road at 9:30. We'd planned a ride recovery day, staying at B-ville. Decided after a second and real breakfast at the Crazy Chicken Cafe, we'd head to the next town with services. Too early to call it a riding day.
Fifty two more miles on down the road, to Camp Wood. Well.. We did make it. That's the good.
The Ugly was pushing through hills (5-7 Mph) and headwind, and, David wants you to know, his favorite rock and seal paving.  If the headwinds didn't slow you down, the bumpy road would limit you to 10-12 Mph or risk damage to the bike. 

First day east of Del Rio Texas is starting to green up & I'm recovering from Whattaburger.

So, 82 miles, couple thousand feet of climbing, losing then gaining, repeating ad nauseum. Cycling vets know this drill. Repeat for half of Texas.  Does Texas ever have wind from the west?
It's now 6:30, we visited the local Mexican restaurant (good), and I've put in a reservation for a quart of chocolate milk at the local mini mart for tomorrow morning. I've learned to Plan. Big climbing, 36 miles, and no need whatsoever to push further than Vanderpool tomorrow.
Now that my legs have stopped quivering I can call it a day. 'Nite.

1235 miles down,

The Pecos River: it's scenic, Del Rio is NOT.

A zillion inches on the map of Texas to go.
I know Texas is proud of its hugeness, but COME ON!
We left our trailer trap in Langtry at sunrise and arrived in Del Rio before lunch.
Yes, Johnny and Mikey, I consumed what I hope is my last can of Beanie Weenies in my life for breakfast.
The David-repaired tandem held up for the 59 miles and we endured the 25 degree increase in temp to 99 degrees, David rather well, and me going into grump mode for the last five miles. It was hilly, chip and sealed and traffic-less until we entered Del Rio confines, and extremely close to the border.
May I comment on the border patrol and not get into a political debate?
Fact: the force is impressive, both in vehicle and personnel.
About every 40 miles, a truck and van terminal exists, exorbitantly fencing in 100+ white vehicles logo'ed with a green border patrol emblem.
All day every day we see a some of these trucks on the road, parked behind mesquite trees, or slowly riding off road along the border.
At checkpoints, traffic is backed up on one side of the road, passing through what resembles a three story high truck weighing station. These are manned (literally, I have yet to see a woman border patrol person)with some gorgeous eye candy in uniform, plus one or more large dogs on leashes.
I am fascinated with these guys. I see groups of six at some of our lunch stops, particularly if there is a pretty waitress around. They're all in dark desert green, many with flak vests, all with holstered guns, and wearing very cool sunglasses.
I'd say 75 percent are possibly Latino. All look exceptionally capable of guarding our borders.
I get it! But I want to research the cost/benefit/RESULTS ratio of effectiveness. From my viewpoint on the bike saddle, I am skeptical.
But maybe it's just because I'd like to see some of the force on bikes. In Lycra. ;-)

Livin' It Up in Langtry

Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, 50....dollars!
Yep, back in a trailer again. In Langtry TX. David now repairing a broken rear wheel spoke and truing the wheel. I'm looking at sardines, Beanie Weenies and Gatorade for dinner.

This gourmet meal cost $12.

The nearest restaurant is 30 miles away and it's about 99 degrees.
But this swell place has air conditioning.
Our plan was to ride another 30 miles to Comstock today and be in Del Rio tomorrow for bike maintenance and some serious chamois shopping. Instead, once again I'm trailer trash.
Now, what's the riding like out here?
Chihuahan Desert. Decent roads with no traffic because hardly anybody lives out here. Rolling terrain.
I've had to throw "nutrition" out the window. We eat to ride, period. And if that means full fat barbecue potato chips, so be it.
Last night in Sanderson I had gas station meatloaf, macaroni and cheese and Spanish rice. Later on it was chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes. This morning, at the same station (the only open place in town) it was a sausage, egg and cheese burrito and chocolate milk. But it got me here, 62 miles later.
Burp.

Now for the Gratitude

In Marfa Friday-Saturday:
An Episcopalian minister and his wife, making the rounds of pastor-less churches to conduct Good Friday services, offering to tote us and our big bike to the next town when we were $$'ed out of El Cosmico.
The Dairy Queen worker who suggested Riato Inn as a reasonable place to stay.
The owners of the Riato Inn, Sitting outside with their four Harleys, who gave us a huge room to house us and the tandem
The hostess at Maiya's who fit us in even though there was a huge reserved dinner crowd
Maria, who made us her wonderful breakfast burritos and was willing to give them to us when she couldn't make change for a $50. And neither of us not speaking each other's language. (don't worry--we paid)
And then, Saturday in Marathon:
Proprietor of the French Grocery Store, who directed us to La Loma del Chivo (the Hill of the Goat) and endured our three visits in four hours as our undiminishing appetite increased. STEVE: they even had Lawnmower Beer. I was so tempted to purchase for you.
Finally, to the four people at La Loma, two of which we are certain exist: Gill, Al, Bill and
Goat Woman.

Great gathering place, complete with fireplace

Gill's custom painted Mercedes. Note The Owl.

Self described as a hostel/pension, LLDC offers free overnights to cross country cyclists. Gill, retired pilot and owner of a stain-glass enameled Mercedes with a huge owl trunk sculpture, resembles a French Legionnaire with a tool belt. Bill maintains beautiful organic vegetable gardens.

The Sweat Lodge

Gill repaired our panniers. I assembled a huge dinner salad from Bill's garden.

Al Wazzir's Place. David and Karen wazzir.

Recycled Can Building: Beer drinkers take note. Roof is a satellite dish!

We were offered lodging in Al's palace, a single white stucco'ed mosque of a room, decorated with its proclaimed theme of "That was Zen; This is Tao."

Um, I don't know? Salad Bowl door window.

Free form beer can building. Possibly constructed under the influence.

Bathhouse with real plumbing.

Other structures included a sweat lodge, a recycled beer can, wine bottle and cement shelter, and the hostel proper, with beds for guests in a two story commons area and an outdoor cooking area. Goat Woman is the proclaimed kitchen mistresss.
Much more, but you'll have to take our journey to appreciate it.
And maybe you can find Al and Goat Woman.

if It's Good Friday We Must be in Marfa

Marfa, aka Internet Twilight Zone, was yesterday's destination. We were pumped after finding "El Cosmico" on the internet as a possible lodging location, featuring restored 50's trailers and a campground. The Internet writeup promised a lot. El did not deliver. We arrived, hot, tired and dusty, and informed due to a huge Sunday night concert (this was Friday) we would be charged $50 to camp in a treeless field with garden hose shower facility.

Yep. Prada. Artistic display before entering Marfa. A creative comment on the Marfa Mindset.

Uh-huh.
We left and found a motel featuring mostly Harley riders, air conditioning and an ambivalence towards our tandem that was much more inviting. For $65.
Cruised around town in the twilight, paid way too much for a really good meal involving wild salmon breaded in pistachio nuts, and slept soundly until pre sunup when apparently all good Harleys like to get moving.
Chomping on breakfast burritos at Maria's, a thoroughly Mexican living room/restaurant, I met a beautiful twosome also in search of breakfast. "In town for the concert?" I asked.
"Yes," they replied.
"Camping at El Cosmico?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
$40 for four tents on a site."
Insert expletive.
We didn't fit the El Cosmico profile.
I guess.
Google the outfit. Read it and disbelieve.
Oh yeah, this is also home to the Marfa Lights. The official lookout, an elaborate memorial to somebody important, was eight miles out from our Harley sanctuary and too dangerous to ride after dark

Wildfire results. We arrived post-burn.

Only Marfa place that told it like it is.

Yep, Biker Betty does Marfa Lights.

.Next post: La Loma del Chivo
Much better. I promise.

Passed the 900 Mile Mark

and we'll be in Texas for a loooong time.
Now in Van Horn, David and I decided early on to again switch out on the ACA route after encounters with five dogs in the first hour of this morning's ride.

Everyone off the interstate, checking for illegals

We changed the plan from Tour de Mutts to Tour de Interstate. Sorry, dogs in Esperanza. You will have to find another leg to chew on.
Sixty-six miles, mostly on I-10 frontage road with occasional stops in once-prosperous towns such as Sierra Blanca where I saw a closed adobe and stone motel, beautiful construction, with rotting roofs and garbage-filled parking lot. Sign said "closed for temporary repairs."  Sad to see such decline due to high speed, industrial tourist style highway development. 
More blue sky above, desert terrain at eye level and chip and seal below. The border patrol is ever present, both in helicopters above and trucks and vans on the ground and one uniformed guy in spurs hauling a horse trailer...without a horse. We see them in the morning at our coffee stops and at lunch breaks.
If anyone checked out the wildfire link in the previous post, we are not climbing the mountain to the observatory. The controlled burns are done, but that area is still high risk. We are instead headed south to Marfa, not on interstate, about 74 miles south, then on to Alpine and again patch in to the ACA route.

Morning sun, Van Horn to Marfa

A newlywed couple (our age) tells us Marfa is a secret place for many high-level types to get away from it all. Well, we're about to invade their bliss.

Tethered surveillance balloon 30 miles from nowhere.

Random Observations

Today was a recovery ride day, to prepare for tomorrow's climbing to Sierra Blanca and possibly Van Horn.
Angie's Restaurant in Ft. Hancock serves the best chicken fried steak and homemade mashed potatoes.
The Census Bureau reports almost half of FH's population is below the poverty line.
The Mexican drug cartel threatened harm to Ft Hancock's children if the parents didn't pay 5000 pesos each for "protection." Apparently no harm, and no payment.
Equipment: Nashbar waterproof panniers now feature extensive duct tape repair. The bags are great; the rack attachments aren't.
Tandem: David has cleaned chains every 400 miles. Brake pads may last another 800.
headset on tandem is loose. Not sure why, yet.
Body: Muscles are fine, skin takes a beating here in the Southwest. I'm now using 100 SPF sunscreen, the Hard Stuff. Hard to remove from bike shorts, scrub off legs and shampoo from hair.
Clothing: my Pearl Izumi knickers contain a chamois I swear is made of sandpaper. I trimmed the raw stitched edges with a nail scissors, but still not happy with them. At first chance, I will conduct a purging ritual and burn them.
Food and drink: in NM we were riding thru too early for wine tastings. TX is all about beer. David is SAD.

Always a new challenge

Nicest rest spot on the route.  Rio Grande in the background. And No Dogs!

A short 33 mile ride today to Ft. Hancock. Today: DOGS. IN Mexico most were either too tired or malnourished to notice a passing cyclist. Here the dogs have a radar system that passes on news of the Big Arrival of our tandem.
Deciding we were the notch in their doggie collars, the mutt fraternity took us on...and lost. Usually in groups of three, we upped our moving average as I sat ready to deliver a shot of pepper spray if they got too close to my now lean calf.
Such is the advantage of a tandem.
The route took us through more acreage of pecan trees, newly plowed cotton fields, several sad ghost towns and one raw "business" center featuring a 711 in Fabens. And yes, a dog decided to chase us at the town's crossroad.
Ft. Hancock is an even tinier village than Fabens, but the survivng motel is clean and there's a restaurant across the road. And no dogs.

Did I say SHORT Ride?

Seventy four miles today, half in El Paso traffic. Eight lanes of it. David maneuvered between sidewalks and any available asphalt to get us safely through the city. Leaving from Mecilla this morning at 6 AM, we were lulled into a false sense of security, spinning through pecan groves and cotton fields.
Then, West El Paso. Intense traffic at 10 AM. But enough on that.
The city center was more manageable, with an actual bike lane heading eastward. The route led us through the thoroughly Mexican part of town.
I loved it, reminding of my riding through Mexico proper. The intriguing contrasts were all there. Pretty homes with flower-heavy landscaping and high security fencing interspersed with not so pretty but essential community services: auto parts shops, meat stores (carnerias?) and churches.
Beyond the main road lay high density American-style developments, but I still glimpsed some individuality.
We lunched at a Mexican seafood restaurant, the only senior white couple there. Funky, unique and delicious.
We're staying tonight in Clint, TX. We can see the Rio Grande and Mexico from our window. We know there are bad things going on in Juarez, but all is peaceful here.

Bill's Medical Report

Here's a pasted copy of Bill's email. My apologies for lack of editing. I haven't figured out everything yet.
> Bill's Evacuation from Globe
In the mostly unlikely of events my brother, Michael, was ending a backpacking trip in the Grand Canyon at about the same time I was being assaulted by the motorist outside of Globe. The next morning he was in Tempe dropping some friends at the Phoenix airport when he heard of my accident. He and his wife, Bev, drove immediately to Globe and loaded my bike and equipment into their van for transport back home. At the same time I made an airline reservation for Saturday and asked my sister, Judy, to pick me up at the Cincinnati airport. On Saturday morning Michael and Bev drove me the 80 miles from Globe to the Phoenix Airport and I got back to Cincinnati in the evening. The trip on Saturday was totally exhausting and embarrassing. My bandaged arm started leaking blood in the airport so I went to the restroom and repacked the sling with roller bandages. I was afraid the TSA folks would not let me through security with all of that excess liquid in the bandages. My pants were covered in blood where I had been resting my arm. After I got on the plane I put a bunch of paper towels from the restroom on my lap under my arm. They were soaked in blood as well by the time I got to Cincy. I don't think the lady liked me sitting next to her on the plane. She was either upset by all of the damage to my body or didn't think someone covered in blood belonged in first class. People are afraid of bodily fluids. After I arrived back in Cincy I went straight to bed and slept for 14 hours.

A First

Today was our first century on the Cannondale, plus 18. Moving average was 19.3. Of course, not much elevation gain, 730 feet and one heckuva tailwind. We stuck to I-10 shoulders, which varied from smooth to bumpbumpbumpbump. A pannier jumped our ship on a particularly bad one, but it did land in the shoulder.
So we did the whole enchilada, from Lordsburg to Mesilla, just outside of Las Cruces. Tomorrow is El Paso, a short ride, but into a busy town, which sucks time as we figure out how to navigate through it.
This was another ride and eat and ride and eat and drinking day. We stopped at a nice little microbrewery in Deming for lunch. Although it was 5 o'clock somewhere, this was our decision point to either continue or stay, so we had to forego a tasting of "Ugly Chick" pale ale.
Much border patrol presence today. Plus on road cameras, to which we waved and said hi.
I'm now content to return to the regular ACA route, in time to finish crossing NM and enter Texas. Well, also because we aren't allowed on the interstate any more.
Bill reports he is safely home and has described his trip of gore in an email for this blog. I can't figure out how to transfer. In the meantime, he suggests the following renaming to:
TWO FOR THE ROAD PLUS DONE.

is it all about me?

At our overnight at the trailer motel in Quartzsite, I had a small confrontation with a local self described prospector/geologist. Apparently between rock-hunting gigs, he was manning the front desk of the motel office, a charming old tiny log cabin.
I went in with the intention of asking about a next-night lodging possibility. What I got was a ten minute analysis of why I (we) were riding cross country.
"I've watched you guys come through here for years," he said, "and I've tried to understand why anyone would do this."
Then he looked at me and said, "Now I know. You do it for you. You have an ego."
Much more was said by him as I tried to back out, that this was something that was self-centered and did no good for anyone.
Wow.

Yep. All About Me. Brushing my teeth in the bike storage bathroom.

I have my own motivations, and yes, they do include meeting a personal physical challenge. But it is so much more. Actually SEEING this crazy country, meeting and talking with California winery owners,curious Apache Indians (one who said he would pray for us) and curious kids who for some reason just love our tandem)creates a fascinating experience I could not get in a car.
If anyone out there actually reads this, what are your thoughts?

The road to nowhere

Lunch on a guardrail

Are we there yet?

Leads to Lordsburg.
Today was climbing a series of gradual grades, sun, winds both tail and cross.
For miles, looking up: blue sky. Looking out, a sea of scrub and agave. looking down, asphalt.
When I closed my eyes to take an on bike "nap" I still saw asphalt.
Stats include 72 riding miles, 1800 feet of climbing and 12 water bottles. Thanks Rick and Lisa for the collapsible ones. Much appreciated.
Only one snack stop available between Safford and Lordsburg in beautiful downtown Duncan. Much as in other towns along US 70, billed as the Old West Highway, we saw some sadly neglected authentic cowboy architecture, abandoned 50's and 60's era concrete block buildings and basic, but operating, mini marts.
When we arrived in Lordsburg, much of the same, but discovered great eating at a place called Mexican Restaurant facing the railroad tracks. I am learning to love authentic, mouth warming South of the Border cuisines. No more Taco Bell.
We discovered I-10 was nearby and found some luxe lodging at a Comfort Inn. When we rolled up to the entrance, two men in Lycra were entering too. I called out, "Wow, two men in bike shorts," and they turned around, surprised to see two psychos on a white tandem.
They're headed east to west, but we'll be verbally cycling with them tonight. They had already found the local beer outlet and were looking forward to a few cold ones.
Tomorrow is a choice of 113 miles or breaking it up into two days. If it's more chip 'n seal asphalt, we'll probably go for the "easy" plan.

Bonus Miles!

Eighty seven miles. Half through the Apache Indian reservation, half agricultural and old Western style towns. Total elevating 1900 feet, most of it to get out of Dodge, er, Globe. And yes, we did some of it on the available sidewalk.
We regretfully released Bill to his brother and he is on his way back to Cincinnati for orthopedic care and general healing. The person who got away with this crime not only hurt Bill but robbed us of his companionship and unique humor.
We semi-reunited with the Clydesdales who share our concerns about cycling US 60. After our detour to Lordsburg, we'll probably see them again on the road eastward.
Now we're in Safford, enjoying the wonderful hospitality of another Warmshowers host. And another home cooked meal is promised. Life is good.

Just the two of us

Looks like we're pushing on. A return to Tempe would require riding the same (the only) route as yesterday. I will nevereverever be on that road again.
For the record, we travelled 80 miles and climbed 4,000 plus feet.
Tomorrow it's a push to Safford, another 80 miles, thru the San Carlos Apache Reservation. We should have quieter roadway.

And Then There Were Two

Original 1950's mining road to bypass a dangerous tunnel with no shoulder.

Still climbing, 2 to 3 hrs that day in granny gear

Today we must bid good bye to Bill. Yesterday he was clipped by an irate driver on our last downhill into Globe AZ.
First, he is miraculously pretty okay. Damage to his right upper arm, an impressive display of road rash on his running sculpted right leg, a deep gash in his elbow, and assorted other booboos. Also a lot of pain.
The truck assault caused Bill to lose control of his bike. The bike skidded , he went over and landed in the middle of the roadway. He managed to scramble over to the side before getting hit.
Many road angels appeared: The driver of a Qwest van who saw the assault from the opposite side of the road and turned around, called 911 and stayed with him until emergency crew arrived; the policeman who was monitoring for speedsters right before the site, and the copper mine employee who saw the injured cyclist and took time to come down to where we were waiting, inform of of what had happened and transported us back and forth until everything was settled.
Bill's brother is in CO and will take "custody" of him soon.
Now that he's taken care of, we aren't sure how to proceed. We had commented early yesterday that the ACA routing frankly sucked and would be figuring out some alternatives. Unfortunately, too late to avoid this incident.
Now it's time to decide what is best. Sorry all that this is a "down" post. By the way, the available roadway out here doesn't offer any options. Unless we buy a mule.  In our opinion the southern tier should not be promoted unless an alternate route can be found for this one day.  
Karen

FINALLY, A Comment from Intrepid Marathon Man Bill!

(Karen's note: this man is irritatingly phenomenal. He has maintained a perfect pace with us. To gain an advantage, we are shipping home half of our pannier load)

THE VALUE OF TRAINING----
I had only ridden my bike total of 55 to 65 miles in 2010 so I knew I would have to train really hard to prepare for this cross country ride. My base training was 25 miles per week on the Little Miami Bike Trail for three weekends in March. On the last weekend before leaving for this trip I ramped up to 15 miles on the bike trail and about ten miles in my neighborhood which has a few low hills. I was afraid I might have over trained but yesterday when we rode 94 miles I really appreciated all of that hard training. My advice for anyone contemplating a trip like this kind of trip is to follow my training program.
Cheers,
Bill

Monday thru Wednesday, Notes from Tempe

Karen brushing her teeth after putting the bikes in the bathroom.

Fell asleep last night writing the following:
Lodging logistics required a shorter riding day to Quartzsite Monday, followed by a 94 miler Tuesday to Wickenberg.
Monday's 50 miles was distinctive mainly for finally completing CA and entering AZ. And spending a lot of time on the interstate. Quartzite in April is a deserted snowbird/flea market town. Also the home of the world's largest belt buckle.
Our "motel" was half of a trailer, converted to a room. Unexpected bonus was ability to store both tandem and single in the bathroom. I also received my first "criticism" of riding cross-country which I'll post under personal thoughts.
Tuesday was the first day I felt like a real bike tourer. My face was slathered with zinc oxide sunscreen (thanks Deb K). I replaced my jersey with a white Ex Officio long sleeve 50 SPF shirt (gracias Mike S. for the suggestion). With my orange bandanna wrapped around my neck, I am now looking like the geek rider I was always meant to be. The sun out here is brutal.
The 94-mile ride to Wickenberg included three mountain ascents, about 1,000 feet each. David was superb in handling the tandem. Although some consider the stoker position "boring," I found I was able to use all acquired skills, i.e. pedalling perfect circles, maintaining posture and HYDRATING with about two gallons of assorted liquids. Felt really good afterwards until I passed out.

bike path follows a canal in Phoenix

Today's ride to Tempe reunited us at our breakfast stop with the Oakland Knoll District Clydesdales, the Napa winery owners I previously mentioned. They're still riding with sag support and will venture forth fully loaded Saturday. Seeing their sags on the route has been a nice unexpected extra.
To get to our motel, we did the unanticipated (and apparently illegal) route through the Sky Harbor Airport
access roads. Our first 64 miles to Tempe took about four hours. Our ten miles to the Springhill Suites took two. And I have a re-forged bond with my guardian angel. 'Nuf said. Except that I still hate GPS.

Is Woodstock Over Yet?

We were greeted with this question at our first stop yesterday.
Answer: NO.

It took us awhile to find it as we pushed through the North Algodones Dunes Wilderness Area. For the record, I could easily leave out the "wilderness" designation, although the north roadside is a restricted U.S. Naval Reservation. The south vista offers a view of the dunes well scrubbed of all things natural by the constant traffic of two- and four- wheeled testosterone-fueled vehicles loudly proclaiming their presence.

We shared (?) the roadway with huge RV's, trucks and buses necessary to transport these sand-demanding behemoths to and from enormously populated base camps.
Some of my 60's indignation was aroused. And then: refuge.
We spent last night at a trailer in a fishing/hunting camp on the bank of the original Colorado River. Our Warmshowers hostess Nancy Dean Mercury welcomed us to her little oasis with unique hospitality, starting with a rejuvenating drink of warmed water with sea salt and honey. I probably won't get her resume right, but Ms. Mercury is an artist, instructor/dedicated student of Yoga, and more talents that we couldn't cover in our brief visit. She gave us a tour of the Cibola Wildlife Refuge and then carted us over to a local's family barbecue.
Bill slept outside on her enclosed deck. David and I were snug inside on a comfy pallet covered by what I am sure were natural textiles. Thank you Nancy!
More tomorrow. Bill and David are debating the merits of a 91 mile day. Or camping. The Diva Vote needs to get counted.

Biked to Brawley

That's more screaming downhill interstate in the distance.

camera setting got bumped to B & W

That is a  minus sign in front of the 113 ft elevation. 

Finally some semi CA weather. Fifty nine miles, 700' elevation and one screaming six mile downhill. The tandem operates well in a crosswind, David kept speed to 35. Solo Bill was the brave one needing to brake, look out for gravel and endure the interstate traffic without companionship.
Getting the feel of a bike tour now. Eat, eat, ride, eat, ride, eat sleep, repeat.
Our sendoff person at Jacumba was a 75 years young masters racer, meeting two German cyclists at the Oasis and on to San Diego for a national race.
Only on a bike ride will people greet you, express curiosity, disbelief and/or share their life stories with you.
Tomorrow on to Palo Verde and experience our first Warmshowers hospitality. We're informed it will be a tough ride, 70 miles with few services. if we pressed on to a real town, it would be a 110 mile day.
The EAT part of our cycling day must be respected, so back to food foraging. This is my biggest challenge, cramming food into our rack pack.

We be in jacumba

around 4200 ft,  2nd day out of San Diego

So here we are at the jacumba hot springs spa and lodge. We are a a half mile from the border fence. Mucho border patrol, NO danger here. Still struggling with this ipad. And rain. Sleet. Snow. Wind. We decided to push ahead from Pine Valley when the forecast went from 4 to 6 inches and schools were closed and chains were recommended for cars crossing one side of the mountain pass. Got 30 more miles in, thanks to grocery bags wrapped around feet and a $12.95 pair of insulated gloves from the liquor store. 1800 feet of climbing. Napa Valley winery owners were on the route too, four of the nine riders in their group will be continuing to St. Augustine. We may find ourselves again in their company in Brawley. 70 miles tomorrow, or we camp roadside.

Officially on tour!

Jamie, the airplane mechanic, helped assemble the bike.  Maybe it can fly now.

Bill made it in ,too and quickly got functional.

Wheel dip in the Pacific

Heading to our motel, what else but the WIENERMOBILE!

Next day was 4000+ feet, 51 miles. With 40 pounds of gear it is more like a century. We are now in Pine Valley. A loose knit group of Napa Valley cyclists with vehicles following is here too.

Snow predicted overnight. Now happy we lugged heavy clothing here. Foraging for food as this teeny tiny town shuts down. We are hunkered down in the only motel, and two open restaurants within walking distance.
Karen