Next Gas: 110 miles. We anticipate we'll see this sign sometime after starting our ride tonight, east from Twentynine Palms where we're waiting out the hottest part of the day in an airconditioned library. Twentynine palms is an oasis in the mojave desert just north of Joshua Tree national monument. The oasis has dried up, perhaps due to increasing demand on the aquifer via drilled wells, or shifting of the tectonic fault which goes directly under this area, but the parks service waters the palms still, and so some semblance of a desert oasis remains. But its not like it used to be. A hundred twenty years ago, surface water would pool several feet deep around the palms, and then run over the surface up to a quarter mile into the desert.
The next town east is Parker Dam, on the south end of Lake Havasu City, and there is literally nothing on the map between here and there. There is also an extreme heat advisory in effect, with 115 to 118 degree heat expected in the colorado river valley on sunday, where we're headed. Thankfully, there's also the colorado river to cool off in, and Lake Havasu city, which we will take shelter at. We'll be bringing almost three gallons of water each for this crossing (25 pounds of water!) as well as a large white sheet and ropes and stakes, with which I feel confident I can rig a shade structure between the bikes if, for any reason, we don't make it all the way across the desert before the sun rises too high. If the winds are calm or in any way behind us, we should be able to do this completely before dawn. If we average 20-30mph, like we did in anzo borrego, we may be in Lake Havasu by 2 or 3 am! I'll be using the spot GPS beacon device, and if we do need help, I can summon roadside assistance with it.
But the stories we hear. Its a desolate area, and in two separate accounts, locals said its like "the hills have eyes", out there. Another described it as an area people go to dispose of the errant couch, or to go shooting. The parole officer we had lunch next to - an impressive giant of a man, probably close to 280# - with shaved head and texan moustache/goatee, and the body armor he wore stuffed with radios and batons and mace and sidearm - said that there's places they just don't go alone. He said we might see people, but if so, "just keep on riding". Another local at a poolhall last night said we'd be fine, "just don't go at night". Sheesh.
All anticipation of risks aside, we will have favorable conditions. The forecast is for 10-20mph westerly winds (from the west, that is), and with those it should be possible for us to average 20 or 30 miles per hour. 120 miles goes fast at that rate! We were actually disappointed when we finished our Anzo Borrego ride, and route 79 east ended on highway 86. We'd have happily steamed along at our superhuman 30mph wind-assisted pace for a hundred miles then, and now we get our chance. We're also well fed. We ate at a diner here, and decided to really dig in. I had a full bowl of clam chowder, an "All American" omelette (with mushrooms, sausage, bacon, ham, peppers, onions, and three eggs), some hashbrowns, a slice of watermelon, and a short stack of pancakes and butter. This is probably the biggest meal yet for this ride: I actually couldn't finish the last third of the omelette. We'll have digested our meals and be ready and powerful when we start riding around 7 tonight.
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Enough of anticipation however. Yesterday was awesome! We saw the 29 palms oasis in a rare moment, at the end of an interesting day complete with desert monsoon, and the ink still drying on what will surely be an ensemble of lifelong memories. We met Tod Gordon the evening before, a kindergarten teacher and cycling enthusiast... he toured from canada to mexico by bike about 30 years ago, and clearly was excited to see us. He's quite the rock climbing enthusiast too, and had an entire wall of a large room in his house covered with shelves, with each available spot fille with rock climbing books. He also wore an ironman triathlon cap when we met him at the gas station opposite the park entrance, while refilling our water. He offered, and we accepted, hot showers and shuttle service up the 2000 foot climb to the park lands proper. We considered declining, but were glad to have a few hours more to sleep that night, and to do so clean. The camp site was spectacular: in the shadow of a huge - several story tall - granite rock cluster, all edges rounded, and there was absolutely no light pollution, once the aerial flares that could be seen on the sky over the marine base to the north burnt out (they were doing night battle simulation excercises, I hear). I've never seen that many stars so clearly, and fell asleep on my back on top of a concrete park bench watching them.
Joshua Tree park is amazing. We cleared out of the campsite by 7:30am. We found a turnoff by Cap Rock, (a several story tall granite obelisk) and were the first people there that day. The traction on the rocks was so good, and the rocks so large, that it really felt like, if one were more confident and skilled, one could literally run up the rocks, not stopping. Many holds going up the rock that I judged impassable from a static perspective were simplicity embodied with a little headstart: inertia is a valuable climbing tool! I let a strong leg thrust's speed carry me up some spans that my reach alone, if static, couldn't have, but held back the full force of my rekindled childhood love of climbing the monkey bars, aware that though it was favorable conditions and I was feeling strong and competent, the consequences of error could be a dealbreaker for the continuation of the trip. We got to the top of a few of a few boulders maybe 60 feet up, then came down and drank. Lydia, a seasoned climber, was only slightly slowed down by not having other than cycling cleat-shoes and flip-flops; She climbed on the cheese-grater-like granite in bare feet.
We toured the park at a leisurely pace, and climbed on or around Cap rock and Skull Rock. Pictures will be downloaded as we get the cable or reader for Lydia's camera; My camera is dead till I pick up the charger which I left at Mauricio's place, and which he's mailed to us (and is probly now waiting) at Lake Havasu City Post Office. As we were on Skull Rock we heard a thunder peal from a different direction - west! - than the storm we'd seen on the horizon, maybe 50 miles to the east. Down off the rock we came, and considered whether to shelter in the valley between rocks, or descend further. Lydia was concerned about being on the bikes but I timed the lightning - thunder lag and determined we were still 5 miles from the excitement, and could warrant further descent. It was impressive how the storm can form: the clouds didn't so much roll in from anywhere, as form directly overhead.
We were on the downhill out of the park, and that means about five miles over which 1500 or 2000 feet is shed. The trouble wasn't so much coming down, but slowing down! As we descended several hundred feet below the tall rocks we felt less concerned about lightning, but wet brakes on such heavy bikes meant we had the stopping distances of 747 jumbo jets. We did stop, and several times, sometimes because we needed to put on warm clothes (I put on a fleece, and gave lydia my gloves and hat), and sometimes because the hard rain made it impossible to face forward - the driving rain felt like as many BB's or nails, stinging hard with each impact, nevermind its effect on visibility. The wind blew rain at 30 degrees from HORIZONTAL, with each droplet stinging so much that I imagined it must be hail. Looking down, I saw white stuff on the road, but it was just a froth washing off the asphalt. No hail, just really, really hard rain. The side of the road turned into a river, and the desert seemed to exhale a pheromone-like musk. Lydia asked if I smelled the asphalt and then we both realized this was a much more pervasive odor. Smoky, sweet, earthy, spicy... words fail me. A helpful youth at the park office, when we got down, said he thought the dominant note of the perfume was creosote bush, and indeed it did smell similar, but this was a very complex odor of several hundred different floral and mineral exhalations, I'm thinking.
Anyway, they only give you so much time on these computers, so I've got to sign off for today. Wish us luck, don't worry too much, and check the GPS position updates for our OK messages if you are worrying. We'll call for help if we need it, but I think we'll be fine!
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