El Centro to Ocotillo

April 12th, 2013. 

We woke up in the morning to a beautiful blue sky day. I was in no hurry as I only had 30 miles to get to Ocotillo. I exited the RV campground at about 9:30 a.m. and arrived in Ocotillo about 1:00 p.m. Actually, I went slower than I felt I should have---it was primarily a slight descent almost the whole way and yet I still had to push relatively hard. Even with the chain cleaning I had just given it last night, it was not enough and there was so much gunk on the chain that it added quite a drag. 

Ocotillo was a little spot in the road. Funny thing: I meet the most interesting people in these one horse towns. I got to Ocotillo much earlier than Shannon expected and she was still in El Centro working on communications, writing, etc. So, she picked it all up and went to Wallyworld to grab some more chain lubricant/cleaner, and came and met me in Ocotillo. By the time she had arrived, I had spent a good half hour chatting with a local: Paul Martinez. More on him in a moment.

Lodging? What to do, what to do. There was an RV campground, no tent or car camping allowed and all the RV spots were filled with residents anyway. They had a 2 room motel, $50 for one person, $60 for two. I’m sorry, but this was worse looking from the outside than the NoTell in Gila Bend. I would rather find a dirt spot and hang the tent. So, we crossed the street to the Ocotillo RV and Campground---there was a single RV set up on a kind of foundation on the corner---I don’t know if it was even a part of this “campground”, several empty camping spots, and an abandoned office building. The sign had a cell phone number with some of the digits missing. There were empty envelopes--old and dusty---by the office door. So, we simply chose a campspot in that semi-abandoned lot and parked it. No bathrooms, no running water, but the campsites were clean and someone had tried to develop it at one time. It held promise. Out of the 10-12 sites, we found one that had a working electrical outlet by the road. While we camped more out of the way, we used the outlet to recharge my phone--well, I used it anyway. 

I spent a good part of the late afternoon cleaning the chain and cogs. Jeez, what filth. I think a trip to a bike shop in SD with a thorough tune up might be a good idea. The desert sand and wind may necessitate more cleaning than usual. Ya think??

Shannon made a killer salad with butter lettuce, veggies, and a balsamic glaze she picked up in El Centro. We munched tortilla chips and ate salad and watched Bomb Girls--we are totally addicted. True to form, we shared our commentary with each other, even pointing out deviations from character development. One of the things we like about this show is that all the women are just people. There is no heroine, no perfect person. Like real life. We are all perfect in our imperfection (You coined it, Brian!). I think it’s important to remember that we are all “flawed”--jeez, we expect so much out of ourselves, holding up an ideal of some perfect thing that we can not aspire too. I say, WHO WANTS TO ANYWAY??? Perfect people are soooo boring. Following the rules of what is supposed to be the right thing is just formulaic. No fascination. No interesting contours. No wonderment. 

So. Paul Martinez. Nice guy, Viet Nam vet who acknowledges the reality of PTSD. He has trouble sleeping at night, but he loves life. After the VN war, he was apprenticed and then unionized at a steam--something pipefitter. Meaning, he could fit and lay pipe meant for high pressure use. He did various jobs--going where the work was found. With this type of job, the work is generally semi-temporary. Once the pipe is laid succesfully, your job is done and you go somewhere else. Well, he helped lay the pipe in Ocotillo---Paul says there are several geothermal spots here, lending the area superb for his type of work. There is a windmill farm here, and he played a part in that. But, after the job was done (took several years), he decided to stick around and semi-retire. He has lived a hermit’s life for a good 8 years and has a fenced compound. He has a generator and solar panels and lives off grid for the most part. His daughter lives in Utah and he is moving there over the next few weeks. It is time to be with his grandchildren he says.

What does he enjoy? Working on mechanical things: engines, motors, trucks--you get the picture. We talked for awhile about his pickup truck. He also enjoys solitude---or “has”, stating he is now getting lonely and looking forward to being with family. 

What gives him JOY? His grandchildren--they are young yet and he wants to be there as they grow up. He says that when his grandchildren give him a hug and a kiss, there is no hidden agenda. They love him without strings or any reason, other than the fact that he is “Grandpa”. He loves that kind of simplicity. 

What gets him up in the morning? The opportunity to play with his engines. He just enjoys being alive. He now also purchased a mini DVD player and he has discovered the joy of watching movies and documentaries. He can pick up 14 DVDs from the Ocotillo library for free. He can make requests for DVDs on the library interloan program. He may have to wait a few weeks for the requested movies to arrive, but he is very happy and grateful. 

I love the fact that happy people are easily satisfied. That they don’t sweat the small stuff. That they enjoy the little chat here and there. 

It was nice meeting you, Paul. May you enjoy your time with your grandchildren.

I miss mine. Little Aoife and Ciara. So precious. So funny too---they make me laugh with their antics.

Tacna Trials

Tacna Trials: April 9, 2013

Upon leaving Gila Bend, I had a long trek to Yuma, 116 miles away. I couldn’t make it in one day, so targeted the town of Tacna for a sleepover. My sister Katie warned us that Tacna is like the black hole that sucks her in every time she passes through it. She usually had car breakdowns, resulting in an unintentional visit. In fact, there is a single, ragged motel--The Chaparral Motel---with a single internet written review. It was written by someone who also had a car breakdown there. But, the writer gave the manager a thumbs up for being so nice, stating the mechanic was pretty helpful too. 

Now, the road to Yuma is pretty rural--not many places to stay between Gila Bend and Yuma. Dateland is about 30 miles from Tacna, but I wanted to get further than Dateland. So, off we went. Shannon stopped at Dateland and picked up, you guessed it, locally grown dates. They have several varieties, but she was being kind to our pocketbook and got the cheapest ones. Still wonderful. Dates are one of my most favorite foods. 

The day was windy and long and I arrived in Tacna to our tent. There is a gas station, farm workers, and the Chapparal motel off I-8. The motel was full of the farm workers, so the owner let us set up the tent behind the motel for free. It was a junkyard back there: tires, metal, broken down vehicles, abandoned mobile homes, and all sorts of stuff that a hoarder would love. Still, I was grateful that the gas station was close by. We were pretty exposed behind the motel, with people coming and going half the night. But, all in all, it was kinda fun. Mind you, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend the night there twice! But once was a novelty and lent itself to the excitement and craziness of the adventure. 

To combat the soreness in my legs, I did leg lifts and crunches and stretches for a good 40 minutes in the tent while Shannon was in a phone meeting in her car. Amazing how that helped. I was pretty whupped when I pulled into Tacna. Wind trials, you know.

The people at the gas station were friendly. In the morning, the lady at the counter was in a great mood and giving the local farm workers a run for their money with her teasing.  She and the man also working the counter gave me the low down on the ag activities there. Some miles from town, in fact, off and on since Dateland, I had noticed these desert bushes planted in rows! They were brown and dry looking, but definitely had been planted by human hands. They are jojoba bushes. I remembered in the 1970s how the jojoba nut and its oil were touted to be the cure-all for a number of maladies and to be the greatest snake oil for the skin! Well, these desert bushes are thorny, as most desert plants tend to be. And the jojoba nut is kinda small. The cash crop turned out to be so expensive to harvest, that the fields eventually were abandoned. Now, they are still growing, but wild--or at least untended. And unharvested. Sad, huh?  The lady at the counter used to pick the nuts years ago and still remembers the pain of being pricked by the sticky bushes. 

There are so many wonderful plants out there, and wonderful fruits and veggies, but it is pricey in our economy to plant, raise, and harvest them. Thus our fields are converted for cash crops like corn and soybeans. It’s all about economics. Until someone gets hurt.

Well, then, it’s still about economics. Lol.

The next morning--on to Yuma. I got on the Internet in the morning and snagged a room at the Shilo Inn Hotel. (Inn Hotel--is that redundant?). The ride to Yuma was not so many miles, but the wind was heftier than expected, so I was ready to be done! The Shilo is a great ole place, reasonably priced--perhaps because they have a pool, jacuzzi, sauna, and steam room--with none of the above working or available that day. But the washer and drier worked and I needed to wash our laundry. Shannon grabbed a carryout from an Oriental restaurant and we truly feasted that night to a shared styrofoam container stuffed to the brim, plus the salad she put together from our cooler contents. We happily munched away while watching Season Two, episodes 1&2, of Bomb Girls. BTW---this was filmed in Canada and was about the Canadian efforts--not the USA. It is just so similar to the USA stories that I missed the obvious. 

I slept past the alarm in the morning and didn’t get out of Yuma until 9:30. But, my goodness, what a fantastic day. We crossed into California today. It was like coming home. The Imperial Valley is known for agriculture, and I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, about 15 miles or so from El Centro, I noted a marked change in the air. It felt just a little heavier, not as dry. I wouldn’t call this area humid by any means, but the air definitely has more moisture in it than the Arizona desert. The only real wind I encountered today was experienced while cycling through the dune area---Henry David and I took a little sand on the chin, so to speak. I have got to clean him up again already. 

Just past the border patrol and truck check, about 10 miles from Yuma, I stopped at a little gas station--I think it is in Felicity. There is a friendly lady named Pam who works there. She and her husband lived in Montana for several years, then Nebraska. Pam’s mother needed her help and Pam and hubby were ready to move out of cold country. So, they packed up and moved to the little gas station on the hill just west of the border check. 

Pam enjoys starry nights in the desert, peace, and quiet. She enjoys the people who live in the RV park near the gas station. What gives her joy? Those star-filled nights.

The ride from Yuma to El Centro was a joy for me. It was inspiring to cross the border into California. Passing thru the sand dunes in east Imperial County was fascinating. There was a bit of a crosswind and the left side of my face was gritty in seconds. I could even feel the sand grinding between my molars! I popped over to a rest stop and “re-met” a man whom I had met at the Felicity gas station while chatting with Pam. At the rest stop, we had the opportunity to talk. He was originally from Mexico. He was a happy, cheerful man and told me he was a devout Christian. He was injured in a working accident---tore his right biceps muscle and damaged a few fingers. So, now he collects bottles and cans and lives out of his pick up truck. He said he is very skilled with landscaping and setting up sprinkler systems. What does he enjoy? His faith and just being alive. It was wonderful to meet someone who appears to be truly happy and who lives out of his truck. He has no demands of life; he has just decided to be happy. And this works for him. We can take a lesson from him.

We stayed in an RV park in El Centro. It was fantastic. We camped in our tent on the grass. There was plenty of hot water in the shower and, don’t get me started on the jacuzzi. Heavenly.

There was a grocery store nearby and they had Perrier by the liter. We drank a few. We are wild that way. 

My Brother Sean

In Tucson, I had the absolute pleasure of sharing an afternoon and evening with my brother Sean, who at 56 is now attending college classes to become a radiology technician. He is kicking butt and taking names in school and we are immensely proud of him.  Sean is a sensitive man---he will cry over a sad story (usually one he is telling), a sad movie, or even a sports event. He can be pushy and loud (sounds like a Kearney) but with a heart of gold. When I was little, I was his shadow. He taught me things, protected me, and gave me a hard time. He was great fun to play with: hide and seek, marco-polo, cops and robbers, and “Barbie under Attack” (I had the Barbie dolls; he had dozens of litte plastic military “action figures”). We would pull practical jokes on each other---like setting buckets of water on top of the bedroom door and then calling the other one into the room. I still laugh when I think of the drenching we would give each other!! Anyway, Sean, if you ever read this blog: I love you!

Corekshuns, coructchins, corrections

I have some corrections to make on former writings, etc. 

First, the lovely cycling couple I met out of Las Cruces: they are Marty and Jim. Not Patty and Jim. Or Jo and Jim. Ooops!

The deer along the road heading to El Paso were desert antelope, small and spry. I labled some photos as oryx. But, sorry, they were Not oryx. The oryx are more “colorful”---usually with tan bodies and black and white faces and weigh 400+ pounds. They were introduced to the White Sands Missile Range in the 1960’s as an exotic animal for hunting. There are now more oryx in NM than in the Kalahari--from whence they originate!  We keep trying to outsmart Mother Nature. But she’s a pretty savy Lady and we oughta just trust her judgment. 

Prairie dogs in the Sonoran Desert? Nope. More like “round-tailed ground squirrel”. Lol! I am off by about 500 miles. 

Fun in Gila Bend, April 7&8

The ride to Gila Bend was very pretty; mild headwind but made good time. I cycled on hwy 84 out of Casa Grande, going through Stanfield--which appears to be cow country, both for beef and dairy. Everything is self-contained, ie, the ranchers and dairy farmers grow their own hay and even sell cow manure to hopeful gardeners. The scenery was really lovely---heart of the Sonoran Desert coming out from Casa Grande. I saw some old, decaying adobe buildings; this is becoming a common sight through the southwest. I stopped to refill my water bottles near the I-8 jct with hwy 84. There is a gas station there. And don’t forget the Dairy Queen. That is also another common sight---you can’t hit a gas station in the desert without a Dairy Queen nearby. I must admit, a Blizzard has been sounding very tempting, but I don’t need the extra weight! When you exercise to this level every day, what you eat becomes very important. Each thing needs to have serious nutritional value---whether it be fructose and mega vitamins from the fruits, to protein and fats from the nuts, to electrolytes from the seaweed. And don’t forget the water. Sometimes I crave Perrier---naturally sparkling water. I think it’s due to the electrolytes, like sodium. It is also a nice tummy tamer (naturally occurring bicarbonate of soda). 

After turning onto I-8 and heading uphill, a very nice lady stopped to offer water. She had seen me on the road a bit earlier refilling my bottles; she must’ve stopped at the gas station. Her name was (is!) Sharon and she is from Oregon. She had just finished visiting her sister in CG. She does not really enjoy travel, but feels the trip was worth it. I think she was alarmed by the dry heat, being from the Pacific Northwest. She teaches college classes: CPR and dental assistant coursework. She enjoys the teaching! And I think she was ready to go home!

Again, great scenery in the hills. Buckhorn, or it may have been Staghorn, Cholla is just beginning to flower: red or yellow. My Lord, it is lovely. Wild flowers border the interstates and highways here. The Jumping Cholla, also called Teddybear Cholla, is a lovely cactus. It looks soft and fuzzy. But it isn’t. I’m wondering why “Jumping Cholla”?The Teddybear name I can understand. It looks cuddly, but I refrained...

Some of the Saguaro cacti grow arms that wrap around itself. Quite comical, as if protecting itself from the heat and the cold and holding its water.

I understand the holding water part. I am frequently on the lookout for a bush big enough to hide my bare bottom when the urge to go, comes!

I pulled into Gila Bend about the same time as my daughter, actually, I beat her by about 15 minutes. A windstorm was forecast for the next day (Monday, April 8th) so I thought we should stay in a motel in town. They were quite pricey so Shannon wanted to stay the night at Augie’s RV & Campground and pick up the next day to move into town. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but I met some fascinating people at the campground, living in RV’s, so it was definitely worth the trouble. The next morning, we picked up our camp by about 8:30, with the winds kicking up a bit earlier than the weather reports suggested. Shannon went to MacDonalds and I followed slowly---building headwinds were kicking up dirt and dust by the time I made it to Mickey’s. We checked the local motels via Internet and phone---all filled. But I tried again around 11:30 am and found one at the PayLess Inn. We grabbed it. The sky was now brown and dirty and the wind was raging outside. Around 1 pm, we braved the storm and went to the motel. Luckily for me, the wind was now at my back, so it was a quick 1 mile trip!

The PayLess Inn is an old, decaying motel, pretty dirty, no ice. However, there was plenty of hot water and the floor was tiled. And the room was fairly sizable so I was able to pull Henry David inside and service him. He was covered in dirt. It took a few hours just to clean him up and clean and lube his chains. The tire pressure has remained excellent!

I made a trip outside in Shannon’s car to look for some groceries. There is no grocery store in Gila Bend. Locals shop in Buckeye, about a 40-45 minute drive away. The dollar stores have a limited grocery, so I checked out the Dollar General and found what I needed. While there, I ran into the fireman we had met the night before at the campground and we talked for about an hour! More on the people in a sec.

That night, we watched the final Netflix episodes of Bomb Girls. Apparently, there is a season 2, but it is very recent, so it’s not available on Netflix. We enjoyed discussing the era, the changing of womens’ roles, WWII, etc. We like every single character, except maybe the head boss of the bomb factory. But, I also understand that we are products of our own culture, so I can rustle up compassion for him. Sometimes we struggle so...

I did not sleep well at the PayLess Inn. I kept wondering if cockroaches would come pouring out of the walls and crevices and crawl on my face. So, I kept the bathrooom light on and slept lightly. Shannon slept soundly. So did LouDog. It was probably also the fact that I knew I had a very long ride the next day and the winds were going to be a challenge. The storm was over, but the leftover winds were still substantial.

The people at Augie’s RV and Campground:

The lady at the desk was most helpful; she was concerned we would get caught in the storm. She was from San Francisco and moved to Gila Bend for her husband’s health--cardiac issues. She said she would go wherever he wanted; wherever he would be happy. Wow! From San Francisco to Gila Bend. Now, THAT is love!!

Craig Liddle is a special ed teacher for the GB school system. He is retired from the military; specialized in artillery. He then got his Education degree and has been doing consultant work with the Arizona schools for several years. He has his fingers in a lot of pies and his mind never stops planning, working, dreaming. He owns a small pig farm near Sholo, AZ. For 6 months, before funding went dry, he had several troubled young men, who were failing the school systems and getting in trouble, live on the farm and learn discipline and responsibility by taking care of the pigs. Craig enjoyed this “work” but says it wasn’t much work at all. I think his idea of work may be different than most. 

Craig raises pigs to order; whatever you want in your pig, you tell him and he provides it. If you want your pig raised on a specific diet, he follows it to the tee. Right now, he has about 10 pigs, raising them for 10 different people. You can even tell him exactly how you want “their life terminated”. This is a great service for those carnivores out there who want their food raised well and in a humane way. As humane as possible, anyway. Isn’t it funny when we use the word “humane” when we are gonna take someone’s life? 

He also raises cage free chickens and sells the eggs. Or the chickens. He plans on adding goats to the farm, to sell goat milk. 

His home is available as a vacation spot. If you want him to cook for you, there is a small added price for that. If you want to help with the pig feeding, the cost is reduced. He also has a fishing boat and says he will take people on fishing expeditions for lake fishing. You just tell him what you want to catch, and he knows where to go.

He is working on a website. When that is up and running, he hopes to stay busy, doing what he enjoys.

So, what does he enjoy? Pig farming, fishing, being outdoors, problem solving of any kind, working with kids. What gives him joy? Avoiding untrustworthy or “false” people.

That is the first time someone told me that gave him or her joy. That may mean that, if you work it right with WHOM you work, you may have joy all the time. At least, that’s my take.

For now, Craig lives in an RV at Augie’s during the week and goes home or to see his mom on the weekends. He is 50 yr old and hopes to be financially set in 5 yrs so he can sit back and drink beer and manage his businesses, maybe from afar. Like from a tropical beach!

Now, for Michael White. He is a former Marine, currently working as a fireman in Gila Bend. He is from the East coast originally and has stories that he does not divulge from his military time. Suffice it to say that he has been dealing with a serious history. My heart goes out to him. He is a young, attractive man who absolutely loves people. He is a real conversationalist, and quite interesting. He is the kind of young man you could chat with for hours and wonder where the time went. That happened repeatedly. We met him within minutes of our arrival when he came over to meet LouDog. Personally, I think Shannon may have been part of the attraction. I’m just sayin’...

That being said, he apparently is just a friendly guy overall. Out here in Gila Bend, he works as a fireman but also does some inadvertent first responder work when needed. He is interested in going back to school to become an EMT. He would like most to work on a flight line saving lives. I wish you well, Michael!

What does he enjoy? People, helping young people, especially those in whom he sees a “spark”. People are just drawn to him, it seems. He has the kind of demeanor that will make you feel safe and cared for, should he come to your door on a 911 call. He likes to encourage young folks. He enjoys a good story and listening to people. He loves his dogs. He has a rescue dog that is currently living with his East Coast mom. He has an energetic chihuahua here in GB. 

We met an “interesting” older fella in MacDonalds. We didn’t try to meet him; he just walked up to our booth and leaned way into Shannon’s personal space, asking her to basically justify her existence in the GB MacDonalds. When she said she was working, he suggested she go on unemployment because the Prez is just giving the money away. Then he wanted to know why she was in the restaurant, using up the electricity that he is paying for. I didn’t note that he had bought anything, and we had---so I’m not sure how he was paying for the electricity and we weren’t. Anyway, he was an angry, half crazy guy and we were taken aback by his vehemence that maybe we skedaddle along. We didn’t stay much longer---we were very grateful for the PayLess Inn!!  

For the most part, I am meeting the most interesting, kind people. And we all need blessings--the angry ones as well as the joyful ones. 

I need to do a blog soon just focusing on the truths of the day...I have so much time to think out there on the road. This is a great blessing. I am very grateful for this incredible opportunity; this incredible moment in time.

It is Saturday, April 6th. I cycled from Tucson to Casa Grande today. Highlights: a several mile trip along the Rillitos dry bed River in Tucson, then the frontage road all the way in to Casa Grande. It was a gorgeous, warm day and the wind was minimal to none. Little prairie dogs had built their little homes all along the side of the frontage road (in the dirt, in the dirt---no worries!). They scurried to their "doors" as I cycled by. The young boys in Casa Grande start feeling their oats on Saturday afternoon, well before the sun sets. The honking and yelling out the window at the ladies can be quite entertaining. And uplifting for a 54 year old...

Tucson is a great city---funky little town, full of art, music, local culture. We checked out the thrift shops and ate ourselves silly at night with veggies, salad, and rice. I fell in love with my sister's dogs: Jesse and Daisy---such sweethearts.

It was delightful visiting with family in Tucson. My sister Katie opens the door to all family and anyone they bring with them. She is a real peach. And brilliant.

Shannon and I stuffed our faces at the salad bar and now we sit to watch Bomb Girls on Netflix while I try to compose. Great TV series about WWII and the ladies who work in a bomb factory.

Tomorrow, we are off to Gila Bend. The next day has a dower forecast---30 mph winds. Hopefully, the  winds will change. They do that, you know!

Whew!! Shannon, LouDog, and I are drinking coffee in Starbucks in Tucson, about 1/2 mile from my sister Katie’s house. I obviously haven’t made an entry in several days. Upon leaving Las Cruces, I had 3 very long riding days to get to each desert town with either campsites or motels. I collapsed into bed each night and just wanted to eat and sleep, knowing I had to get up again and ride in the morning. Then, a “brief” 35 mile ride into Benson; got there by 2:30 pm. We arrived early enough that I set up camp this time--Shannon got a break to take care of her own career business. Today, I rode about 47 miles to Tucson. We decided to camp out here at Starbucks so we could write before we meet and greet the family after a year of semi-separation. Nowadays, with the internet, facebook, email, etc., we can stay connected.

OK, so let’s backtrack. 

Las Cruces visit: we stayed at the Quality Inn, managed by “Jo”, yay! a kindred spirit. She is a delightful woman and has had this job for just a few months. She is a people person and takes her job seriously. She was very accomodating of Henry David and all of our needs. On the first night, a local power outage made using the internet and even the tv difficult! But, we had our computers for writing. So, we did--or Shannon did. I downloaded photos onto my macbook. The next morning, I cycled over to Outdoor Adventures.  I had spoken to Rod Miner, from Lightfoot Cycles, about 10 am and got the skinny on the very easy fix for Henry David. In 2 minutes, HD was ready to roll! I purchased some actual cycling gloves as my knit gloves were not doing the job---I can’t use my phone when I have them on! And we just can’t have that, can we???

Well, I left the shop by 11 but it was way too late to make it to Deming. So, what would I do but go get a workout! I did my back and abs and shoulders in the tiny little fitness room. No aerobic equipment there so Shannon and I took a long walk with the LouDog. LouLou is managing fine: getting used to the rhythm of our current dance. Sometimes he gets a little nervous and he is very clingy to Shannon. He is minimal maintenance. What a sweet dog. 

That night (let’s see, that would be Thursday, March 28, 2013), we ate salad and cheese and tortilla chips in the room and watched a video we rented from a RedBox (I love those things---finding them all across the SW--I hope I can continue to find them!). It was “Seven Psycopaths”, with Colin Ferrell (an Irishman who is kind to my eyes), Woody Harrell (who can play anything!!), Christopher Walken (Shannon says he will be gorgeous till the day he dies), and a few other great actors. This movie was the epitome of black humour. If you like that sort of thing---this is a fun movie. If you only like Hallmark movies, don’t watch it. Shannon and I are still commenting on the film. 

The next morning, while getting packed up for Deming, I met “Tom” in the parking lot. He is a former principal of Carlsbad High. He knows my BFF, Truth LaClair, and said she is a phenomenal teacher and a real sweetie. I hear that from everyone who knows her. I am humbled to have such an incredible friend. 

Deming!: Good Friday, we headed for Deming. It was a very long, hard day. I rode on hwy 549 for part of it, with a rough road and a headwind. For several hours in the afternoon, I just kept my head down and pedaled. There are days when I spend much of the time looking at the scenery. March 29, 2103, not so. Shannon set up camp at Rock Hound State Park, about 13 miles from Deming, 6 of it uphill. By the time I got there, the sun was setting and I was pretty wasted---muscle wise, that is!! It was another day to just eat in the tent and lie down, hoping my legs would recover by morning. That night, I started having knee cramps in the middle of the night--and every night since then. I think it’s getting less painful, though!

Highlights of the ride to Deming: about 15 miles from Las Cruces, there is a Bowlin’s Trading Post. These are scattered all across the southwest and always bring back memories. When I was 6, we moved from Chicago to La Mirada, CA along Route 66. As children, we, of course, wanted to stop and look at the “Indian” geegaws (often made in a factory in China). My dad wouldn’t let us stop, being of the mind of many dads that, when traveling, the point is to get there. Ever since then, I made up my mind that it was the Journey, not the Destination. Now, I stop at almost all of those silly Trading Posts, even if just to use the bathroom and smile and my “independence”. LOL!!!!

Anyway, at Bowlin’s, I met Patty and Jim, a cycling couple about my age. She is a sonographer (medical ultrasounds) and he is her support system. We talked bikes, traveling, routes, the kindness of travelers, and Patty’s goal to cycle to Deming, her “home town”--- and her mom still lives there. I suggested they just Do It, as it is definitely within their capabilities. What a nice couple. 

Amanda is a pretty young lady, mother of one, who works at Bowlin’s. She came rushing out to see HD--sometimes he catches people’s eye!! (His sleek green frame and sturdy backwheels definitely draw more attention than my own chassis!). I was having some trouble with Google Biking Maps as they had led me down a merry path to a fenced dirt road a few miles earlier. Amanda pulled out a NM map and showed me hwy 549, about 10 miles off I-10. She was a special blessing and inadvertently caused a shift in my traveling decisions. Because, after riding on the Interstate, I was hooked and have stayed on the Interstate whenever possible since then. I am sure it won’t be every day, but crossing the desert on the interstate is much quicker than the state and county roads. While this trip is not about speed, I need to make a certain amount of mileage daily in the southwest, as habitable towns are far apart. It is amazing how the pavement affects your speed. You often don’t notice this in a car--the difference between well maintained asphalt and less traveled byways. But, in a cycle, esp with a headwind, it makes a heck of a diff!

On the Deming trip, I began to travel next to the railroads on the I-10. I can say this, products are being moved in the USA---dozens of trains, hundreds of semi-trucks. It was actually kind of exciting to see all this commerce happening. And all the people doing their jobs, delivering stuff across the country. Go USA. 

Also, after a week of traveling roads, I understand even more about the necessity of the country’s infrastructure involving, in part, maintaining and building roads and rails. 

Rock Hound State Park was a beautiful spot to camp. I would have enjoyed staying for a few days. When I drug HD up the last 20 feet (deep, loose gravel not good for HD...), I met Pat and her husband Glen. They just purchased a big RV--a mansion on wheels---in January. They enjoy trading rocks and gems and love to “camp”. Their plan is to travel 6 months of every year, and then hang with family/grandkids, etc. This is not uncommon among the retired couples I am meeting on the road---travel half the year, park it half the year. Glen is Native American and gave me a small, almost spiritual stone, “Apache Tears”. It looks like a smooth, several sided black stone, as if tumbled down mountains and rivers and creeks. But, when you hold it to the light, it is opaque. There is an energy about this stone; I felt rather weepy holding it up to the light. It is aptly named.

Lordsburg, March 30, 2013:  I left Shannon still snoozing, or trying to snooze, the next morning, around 8 am. I cycled down into Deming while searching for a coffee shop. The ones listed on the net were OOB. By then Shannon had packed it up and was searching in Deming for the holy caffeine grail. We settled on McDonalds. By the way, Mickey’s has good coffee and it is inexpensive. Many of the stores have wifi and plug ins--this is another draw. So, I let my phone partially recharge while drinking coffee and eating hash browns. I got out of Deming later than perfect, about 11 am. Then, on into Lordsburg. Shannon had gone ahead, this time with all my gear (gosh, the weight loss made a marked difference!) and picked out a room at the Comfort Inn. I arrived in the dark, close to 9 pm, but energized. The desert winds have been starting around noon or 1 pm and continuing till about 6 or 6:30 pm. While the work was hard, it was just encouraging. I had 13 miles to go before Lordsburg, when the wind died down. I was exhausted and was barely moving. I gave myself a mental shake and told myself, “This is the point that tells if you are an athlete or not. Continue on at this slow pace and you are determined and strong and it is good. Push it now and you reach for the stars”. So, I reached for the stars, literally, as that was the light, along with semi truck headlights passing me on the way, and my own little LED lights! I gave it all I had, arrived at the motel room door with an exhultant “Wooha!”, and was welcomed by Shannon’s sweet face, telling me to get into the jacuzzi before it closed. My Lord, did that hot water feel wonderful on those tired legs! I lay face down, then, in the sauna--which was only a little warm, but good enough to make me smile, again! After a hot shower and another scrumptuous salad, I was almost giddy with delight. 

Shannon read me a rough draft of her latest film script. Gosh, she is SOOO good. She is incredibly creative and imaginative. I love the dialogue among characters. And she paints such a picture with her descriptions. It was a great bedtime story. Nevertheless, while there were no ghosts in the story, I had a great ghost story dream that night. I wouldn’t call it a nightmare, but it was exhilarating. Cool!

On the way to Lordsburg, I stopped at a another Trading Post of sorts. I ran into a work colleague, “Ben”. He is a fantastic physical therapist, employed at Carlsbad Physical Therapy (owner Tory Smith and Bob Pattillo). He saw HD parked outside and wondered if I was connected as we had conversed about this trip several months ago. For some reason, in my mind, he has always been “Sean”. That has never been his name and I should never forget because he is a live ringer for Ben Afleck, but younger and probably better looking (!) as he takes very good care of himself. He was very helpful when I did some contract work at CPT: I needed his guidance through the computer documentation system on more than one occasion!! Bless you, Ben. He and his family were returning from visiting family in Phoenix. It’s a small world.

Willcox, Easter Sunday: Another long day, this time without much to-do as far as the ride was concerned. Headwinds half the day as usual. Pretty scenery but tiring. 

I stopped at Bowie to get water and a potty break. I met three delightful gents and we had a brief natter outside the store while they sat at the picnic bench. There was the gentleman who owned part of the store---he runs 4 businesses, at least 2 of them selling local made/grown/harvested/fermented foods and drinks in similar stores. I asked him what gives him joy; he said “making money”. He and his wife take little trips to visit their businesses. He likes to set them up and have someone else run them. He checks on them from time to time and visits with the locals. He enjoys his work. Fantastic!

The other man was a “youngster”. He was maybe 18-22 and a real cutie in a lovable geeky way. I always love the geeks. They are so interesting. I can imagine him playing the modern version of D&D. He works at the counter and, when I brought my purchase to him, he was very friendly. He said he was “living the dream out here in Bowie”. He smiled so big, flashing his pearly whites. I asked him if, really, was he living his dream. He said “Of course! But, sometimes a dream can be a nightmare!” He was grinning when he said it and he actually looks like quite a happy guy. I love that! Outside the store, he joined us for his smoking break. He said that “Family” is what gives him joy. He loves his Grandma and his Great Grandma and he is said he is blessed to have them all living near each other in Bowie. I found this especially heartwarming, as young people tend to be naturally restless, but he was happy as is. Excellent. 

The 3rd gent was an older cowboy. He was a quiet sort and, when I asked him what he enjoyed or what gave him joy, he was taken aback and didn’t know what to say. The business man chortled, saying, “I gotta hear this!” After a minute or so, the cowboy said he enjoyed working in a garden and being outside, but most of all, “This!” And with that, he whipped out a gorgeous pistol. Looked like a classic---but I know nothing ‘bout guns. This baby had a pearl handle and gold trim amongst a polished silver barrel. The business owner jokingly said the cowpoke’s name was “NRA” and he is an avid gun collector. Mr. NRA Cowboy had little to say, but he had merry eyes and I liked him. 

With that, I took the side road through Bowie, but the road was kinda rough, so I was glad to get back on the interstate. Bowie was a pretty little town from a bygone era, but with nice pecan and walnut orchards and, apparently, some pretty good wines. But, it was Easter, and no local wine to be had in that lil town.

In Willcox, Shannon had picked a cabin at The Magic Circle RV Campground. She had wine and a beautiful salad with fresh papaya ready for me. I got a nice hot shower from the communal bathroom there. The owner “John” was very accomodating. Although I had arrived after hours, he came out to say hi, thinking my blinking lights were from a GoldWing HD! LOL! HD: Henry David confused with a Harley Davidson. His initials are apt! I giggled and told him, “Nope, not a GoldWing, but a GreenWay!” I got him out of his house about an hour later to borrow some lighter fluid, as our self-lighting log wouldn’t light! Thank you, John!  

It was a beautiful night and a bed! In a little log cabin. Ahhh. 

Benson, Monday, April 1: Now this was a great day. Very hilly but oh, so easy without my heavy load in the cargo area! I met “Dave” at the rest stop on the top of the hill/mountain, between Willcox and Benson. Dave owns a vending business and was taking a break after repairing some damage to his machines. He enjoys his job some of the time, but finds it very disheartening when people vandal the machines. There is rarely a lot of money in them, that is,  “the take” does not come close to recovering the repair costs when they are broken into. (I’m from the midwest; we are allowed to end sentences with prepositions. I just read that somewhere. Or should I say, “Somewhere, I just read that”? Teehee.). He enjoys hunting and fishing and cooking for his wife and spoiling his grandchildren. He was a real cutie. Nice meeting you, Dave. Happy trails!

It was a fast ride (for HD and I, anyway. It’s all relative.). Shannon, LouDog and I all arrived in Benson about the same time---2, 2:30. We met at the Safeway, because Starbucks and Safeway are good buddies! A hot coffee with cream and I was revived for the afternoon. We camped at the KOA---these campgrounds tend to be pricey, but they do have nice hot showers, a little store, and a laundromat. 

I showered at the KOA and then we hopped in Shannon’s Hyundai Tucson and zipped over to Tombstone, AZ. What fun. This was my first chance to just do a little sightseeing. Just because. These are the things that add honey to life. We wandered the downtown streets of this historical little town. The townsfolk have worked diligently to maintain the old businesses, refurbishing and re-utilizing. It would be a fun town in which to spend the night, like at Crazy Annie’s Bordello, Bed and Breakfast and Saloon. Or The Tombstone Bordello B&B. Or Apache Spirit Ranch. Or T. Miller’s Tombstone Mercantile and Hotel, right downtown in the historic district. We splurged and had frozen yogurt and sat next to the Tombstone Reptile Museum. LouDog continued to be a star and drew lots of attention. We would have liked to mosey through The Bird Cage Theatre which has been lovingly maintained but quite rustic. Wyatt Earp and family, Doc Holliday, all those famous or infamous characters---this was their fave hangout. Drinking, music, gambling, and ladies of the night--it was the hoppin’ spot. But we declined the tour as we are trying to be wise with the money. Tombstone deserves a whole day and night for itself. Shannon’s tummy was not happy, so I couldn’t talk her into a trip into a saloon with live music to have a drink and eat french fries. I don’t need either treat, either!!! I really am behaving! With her help.

Tucson, day one, April 2: I left Benson by about 8:30 am and arrived in Tucson at the Starbucks close to my sister’s house. Shannon left several hours later. Wind was picking up as we both got here around 2:30. We’ve been sitting in here in this popular coffee spot since, writing, etc. Shannon always has work to do related to her business. This was my first real opportunity to write in the blog. So I took it. I knew that if I went to Katie’s house first, I would put off this blog update and would forget too much. So, now, I can go to her house and actually visit, and set up the tent in the backyard. Tonight, I will work more on the photos. I am finding that part quite time consuming and I may continue to be behind in the photo gallery update on the website. 

Better get going! Tonight---family. Tomorrow, maybe a hike? Cycle maintenance? Wander in the quaint areas of town? Eat? All sounds good! I wonder if I can fit it all in. Shannon keeps telling me to drink water. I must look like I’m drying up in the wind and sun...But, what a way to go!