Denise's comments: So the riders crossed into Arizona on day 5. An 80 mile day. They camped at the Salome KOA Campground and pitched their tents on gravel. They had showers - no wi-fi but did have a bit of electricity. Here is the day's map.
This is what Alan sent:
I’m still thinking about yesterday’s ride. The ride tested me both mentally and physically. Being dropped by riders is depressing, even if they are younger and stronger riders. Although no one is really young on this trip; there are three people older than me. Dan is 79 and is like the energizer bunny. He rides a strong and steady pace and his wife Shirley is not much younger. They are remarkable. Mark is 73 and rode in the first Bikecentenial ride across the US in 1976. Then there’s me.
When I was dropped, I could have slowed down until riders behind me caught up and Dennis was riding sweep. I elected to go it alone. There’s a lot to think about when you are alone in the desert. It’s hot, windy, cars and trucks whiz by while we are riding on very narrow shoulders. I felt like Simon in “Simon of the Desert,” a 1965 film by Luis Bunuel . Simon stood on a column of rock for six years, six weeks, and six days to show his devotion to God. I only went 40 miles alone and I didn’t have a religious epiphany, but I did dig deep into myself. Why am I doing this? What kind of idiot am I? It’s not even a week into a two month ride. As I was riding along I felt myself sinking deeper into depression. I kept pedaling and pushing on. The climbing was hard and relentless in this stretch of the route. I’m riding a crank with three chainrings in front and nine in the rear. I used every gear climbing the hills. It was getting hotter and I could feel the back of my legs start to burn (yes, I was using sunscreen).
The desert looked so empty. No signs of animal life. Just traffic whizzing by. Finally, I crested a hill and James and Sharon were there taking a break. What a welcome sight! We are becoming more than a group of individuals, we are becoming a kind of family.
That was yesterday. Today we left Palo Verde for Salome, Az. One state down, seven to go. We still have a lot of mountains and desert to ride through. After yesterday, I was physically and emotionally drained. The RV park we were at had minimal facilities, though we were able to camp near the Colorado River. As the river gets closer to Mexico, it is almost gone and at this point it becomes a lot of irrigation canals for Imperial Valley. I included a short video of the place.
Today’s ride was 79.3 miles with 2,872 feet of climb. Almost as long as yesterday’s ride. We started off early, it was cool and overcast. The first few miles were flat and the group I was riding with averaged 16 mph. There was a 4% chance of rain and it started to sprinkle. It felt refreshing. We came to an intersection and to our left was a crop dusting airplane taking off on an asphalt runway that ended close to the road. It flew very low right over us. What a way to start the morning. Unlike yesterday, today was a good ride. Not quite as desolate and there were small towns. We spent a good chunk of the day riding on I-10. There was a good size shoulder which made it safer, but it was LOUD. Once again I had lunch with James and Sharon in Quartzite outside of the Coyote Fresh Food store.
Tom and Chuck weren’t so lucky. Both had rear tire flats from I-10 road debris. We had a great day of riding and saw some Indian petroglyphs on a rock in a canyon we were riding through near the end of the ride and near Salome. The KOA campground we are at is a lot nicer than last night’s campground. What a difference a day makes.
Here is a video of the Palo Verde RV park.
Here is a video of I-10 showing how loud it is and how fast traffic moves. Note Alan is wearing sun sleeves to protect his arms from the sun and he wore his tights to prevent any more sun burn on his legs.
The emotional toll on an adventure like this cannot be underestimated, hence I take Alan's reference to depression quite seriously. On an adventure like this, one is surrounded by a dozen people that know exactly what to do in the case of flat tire, but are unlikely to even recognize emotional exhaustion, let alone know how to offer help.