We left the Phoenix area last Tuesday, well rested and totally ready to be back on the road. OK, I'll admit it was a bit hard to leave the comforts of a shower every day, TV, free laundry and a well-equipped kitchen, but in reality once we were safely away from civilisation again, we were glad to be on the road. The weather was beautiful, perfect conditions for the big climbs that we had into Globe, AZ. We climbed up about 1000ft over ~35 miles and stopped for lunch at a rest area in Superior, before tackling the real climb of the day to Globe. The second half of the day consisted of winding up and up rocky and desert-y yet beautiful roads, with hairpin corners and no shoulder. The scariest part of the ride was through a tunnel, also up hill, with no bike lane or shoulder. We peddled so hard to get through before any big trucks plowed us over (we did have lights on however), that I almost threw up lunch on the other side. After a few more hours of this kind of climbing, we reached Globe, around 3pm. The only 'adventure' on the way in was Matt getting stung by a bee on his face while flying down a hill. An ice cream at a service station on the edge of town seemed to make it all better! Apparently Globe is a place you go 'to feel better about yourself' (the words of my unnamed 2nd cousin, haha), but in reality it's an old mining town, with a historic downtown that has definitely seen better days. By no means was it the worst place we've been yet! We camped at a primitive RV park on the train tracks, and managed to get through the night when the temps dropped to about 31F. We awoke to our tent engulfed in frosty ice, but warmed up quickly once the sun was up.
The next day's ride was to Safford, and was mostly flat and a comparatively easy 75 miles. Arriving in town we stopped at the visitor's information center and had our first taste of genuine hospitality. The woman working at the desk was reluctant to send us out to camp at the 'sketchy' RV park in town, and thought it would be too cold to camp anyways, so she offered the floor of a spare room off the back of her house. We were totally appreciative and happy to have a night out of the cold. We slept well and left early, for another big climb the next day. Our next destination was Buckhorn, NM. To get there, we had to climb almost 5000ft over 78 miles. It was a long day with a LOT of climbing. We went up 1500ft over 40 miles, stopped for lunch at a roadside store aptly named Three Way, as it's the convergence of 3 highways, and then in the next 14 miles we climbed 2500ft. The climb was beautiful, on a road with almost no traffic (I think 4 cars went past the entire time we were going up, and I can assure you that we weren't setting any land-speed records on that climb!). It took us about 2.5 hours to reach the top. We did get a few pity honks from the cars that did pass, which is actually a bit inspiring to keep pushing on! The top of the pass was at 6,300 ft, our highest yet, and then we proceeded over the border into New Mexico (wahoo, state #3!) and over rolling hills another 28 miles to our destination for the night. The highlight (for me) was stopping at a general store next to the RV park and finding Girl Scout cookies for sale, which we wolfed down in about 10 minutes, as a pre-dinner snack. :) That night was our coldest yet, dropping to around 20F, freezing our water bottles solid.
We had an easy ride the next day into Silver City (40 miles), and over the Continental Divide. That meant going back up to 6300ft again however, but we met some local cyclists on the way into town who made the ride go a lot faster, but definitely pushed us along at a quick pace, as they were riding without any load. Once arriving in town, we stopped at the library to use the internet and have a picnic lunch on the lawn, when a cyclist rode up and asked us if we needed a place to stay. Again, we were totally blown away by the generosity of people towards cyclists. We are now staying for 3 nights in Silver City, waiting for a snow storm to move through tomorrow, in a local cyclist's guest house and enjoying checking out town on foot, rather than bikes!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Some photos from the first week on the road
Sunday, February 20, 2011
1 state down, many to go!
We set out from the shores of the Pacific for a 3000plus feet climb. Our sense of excitement had faded now that the daily grind had begun, leaving only the feeling of anxiety. The ride out of San Diego was relatively straightforward but despite this, we decided to take an early turn up one of the steepest hills near the football stadium. From here the only way was up, literally. Construction workers were giving us great support or jip near Alpine. Perhaps it was because they were relieved not to be dragging a heavy trailer up a mountain on Valentine’s Day!
Weather conditions favoured us with a subtle breeze from behind and clear blue skies above. We slugged into a small Pine Valley hotel as dusk was upon us. The sun now gone with the only remnant of its existence now tattooed on our skins as the bike shorts, shirt and helmet lines began to radiate. This was a moment when you think of all of the good advice you have heard or given others, such as – “never get sun burnt on the first day of a trip.” If only we had reminded ourselves of this earlier.
The following day we gained a little more elevation (it must be said that on a bike you feel that there is no such thing as “a little more elevation”) before we began to make our way along the California-Mexico border. There were more border patrol cars than there were cracks on the road. We were even greeted by a helicopter circling in the sky. It was gratifying to know that my last name was not Sanchez. In the heat of the day we descended the mountain pass. Our legs now enjoyed a short rest whilst our hands seized the reigns to ensure that our trailer remained straight in the cross winds and that we did not gain an uncontrollable amount of momentum on the way down. This was reinforced as we passed a truck parked upside down and its load askew on the embankment halfway down.
After refreshing ourselves with some water fresh out of a dirty gas station bathroom, we saddled up for the flat transit across a section of the Yuha Desert (part of the Sonoran Desert). ATV’s prefer to tear up the terrain adjacent the highway for a good reason – the road is terrible. There are potholes that make the moons craters jealous and cracks that do the same to the Grand Canyon. Somehow, we managed to bounce our way along reaching El Centro in daylight minus a few teeth fillings that had rattled out.
In the past, my butt has usually been a conversation breaker but now it was now beginning to be a conversation starter. Everyone, including Alison, relatives, friends, and strangers were actually beginning to be concerned for its safety or wellbeing. The ischial spines were certainly beginning to remind us of their existence. Unfortunately this is something that will have to be endured for the remainder of the trip.
From El Centro we continued through the Imperial Valley crops and in to the Imperial Valley sand dunes (Glamis Beach). The road was smooth but the shoulder room was nonexistent. We took turns sharing the bitumen with the trucks and cars, namely hiding/leaning into the scrub as they passed by. If the Yuha Desert was a playground for ATV’s then this was Disneyland. Too bad their fun, and ours, on this particular day was reduced by a blustering sand storm. On the bright side, it was an easy way to exfoliate. In the centre of all the excitement, we found refuge at a small store filled with food and drinks (just do not expect to be allowed to eat or drink this inside). As soon as the winds and sand settled we pedaled through the desert, past the base of the Chocolate Mountains (yes, they really are brown, but no they are not edible) and onto our campsite near Palo Verde on the banks of the Colorado River. We were exhausted but invigorated by the sights of the moon rising over Arizona and the sun setting over California.
The following day we cycled onward, through various crops, through Blythe and over the Colorado River into Arizona. It must be said, that so far truck drivers have been the most courteous to cyclists. When they can, they will give you a wide berth or slow down if they cannot. They certainly earn their title as being professional drivers. Perhaps another gross generalisation is that the least considerate (to be honest though the difference is not all that great amongst road users) are those who drive huge coach RV motor homes. The same people who not only didn’t forget the kitchen sink, but they brought a spare one just in case. They also decided to pull another vehicle behind, along with a motorcycle and a trailer to maximise their road use. It seems that despite being retired with plenty of time to explore and a comfortable place to rest anytime they stop, they are not happy lose a few seconds time for a poor bugger cycling like crazy to keep on the road.
Reaching Quartzsite we found out where they were headed. These snowbirds/ grey nomads were flying south for the winter. They had left their freezing climates in search of gems or a melanoma, whichever came first. Not satisfied with the grey hairs on their head they were now trying to bleach them white with the sun. We met quite few while filling up on one of our stomach tanks. They were definitely friendlier off the road than on it. Further east we had our first puncture. After the relentless pounding with built up debris on the roadside it was always inevitable. It was not too long until we found Hope, a small, friendly and cozy RV park where we would pitch our tent for the night.
Now that we were in Arizona dawn was an hour later by the clock but to the body it feels like an hour earlier. On this day we continued along the RV trail to begin our descent into Phoenix, but first we had to go up, albeit gradually, to Wickenburg. Our legs were heavy, our backsides battered, the wind was in our face and the road kept teasing us with peaks we were hoping would be the signal for our descent. Only the promise of a night in a hotel kept us powering on. It proved to be our biggest day to date at just over 90 miles when we reached our surprise, or the town of Surprise outside of Phoenix.
Rejuvenated with a sleep in we had a late start on the bike, after all we only had to get to the other side of Phoenix. We thought, “surely, this can’t be too far”. This proved to be a gross misjudgment. Phoenix is huge and coalesces with many surrounding developments. Not only was the distance against us, but so was the weather. For the first part of the ride we were riding sideways in a sand storm, only to be followed shortly by unremitting rain that chilled us. If it were under any other conditions, the ride through the canals and bike friendly streets would certainly have been more enjoyable. We were and still are so grateful to Alison’s cousin Caroline (and Brian) to host us with a warm house, warm shower and friendly place to stay on the east side of Mesa for a few days to rest up before our big climb in New Mexico!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Pre-departure jitters!
Well, here we are in San Diego the night before we start riding and contemplating what the hell we have gotten ourselves into! No...mostly kidding... We are both super excited and I think a few nerves at this point are completely normal.
We've spent the last 3 days driving from North Bend, OR down the 101 South to San Diego, through Napa Valley, San Fran, LA and then somehow made it through the sprawl and arrived in San Diego. The good news is that the weather is beautiful and totally cooperative for good cycling, about 75F (~25C). The bad news is that we have had to change 4 tubes already, despite not even having cycled a mile in the last few days. Turns out we had some faulty tubes and had therefore swapped out to have 'thorn resistant' tubes in all of our tires. Combine that with 'puncture proof' tires and fingers crossed that we don't even have to use our pump on the trip! :)
Today we saddled up our bikes and trailers with full gear, like we'll be doing for the next couple of months, and rode from our hotel to the start of the trip, at Ocean Beach. Randomly, we met 3 Oregonians who had also just arrived in SD to start riding to Florida! It was reassuring to know that someone else is doing the same thing at the same time. Perhaps we will meet up with them along the way, at least once.
Our 'last supper' was graciously hosted by some family friends, John and Marty Batchelder, who live in SD - chicken wings, ribs, pasta, bread, salad, beer, and cake. Sounds like a good recipe to power us up the hills tomorrow!
We are aiming to ride about 70 miles tomorrow, most of which is uphill. It may be a bit ambitious, but we will see where the wind blows us I guess... Anyways, we will sign off for tonight and be back in touch once we have internet access again!
Big thanks to Mom and Dad Richards for driving us all the way down here and hauling our gear along the whole West Coast, and also to the Batchelders for feeding us very well during our time here!
We've spent the last 3 days driving from North Bend, OR down the 101 South to San Diego, through Napa Valley, San Fran, LA and then somehow made it through the sprawl and arrived in San Diego. The good news is that the weather is beautiful and totally cooperative for good cycling, about 75F (~25C). The bad news is that we have had to change 4 tubes already, despite not even having cycled a mile in the last few days. Turns out we had some faulty tubes and had therefore swapped out to have 'thorn resistant' tubes in all of our tires. Combine that with 'puncture proof' tires and fingers crossed that we don't even have to use our pump on the trip! :)
Today we saddled up our bikes and trailers with full gear, like we'll be doing for the next couple of months, and rode from our hotel to the start of the trip, at Ocean Beach. Randomly, we met 3 Oregonians who had also just arrived in SD to start riding to Florida! It was reassuring to know that someone else is doing the same thing at the same time. Perhaps we will meet up with them along the way, at least once.
Our 'last supper' was graciously hosted by some family friends, John and Marty Batchelder, who live in SD - chicken wings, ribs, pasta, bread, salad, beer, and cake. Sounds like a good recipe to power us up the hills tomorrow!
We are aiming to ride about 70 miles tomorrow, most of which is uphill. It may be a bit ambitious, but we will see where the wind blows us I guess... Anyways, we will sign off for tonight and be back in touch once we have internet access again!
Big thanks to Mom and Dad Richards for driving us all the way down here and hauling our gear along the whole West Coast, and also to the Batchelders for feeding us very well during our time here!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Help us support the Red Cross!
Check out our fundraising page(s) and help us reach our goal of raising $1 per mile during our ride:
American Red Cross:
http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/alisonandmatt/cycle-usa-1
Australian Red Cross:
http://www.redcrossfundraising.org.au/alisonandmattcycleusa
American Red Cross:
http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/alisonandmatt/cycle-usa-1
Australian Red Cross:
http://www.redcrossfundraising.org.au/alisonandmattcycleusa
Friday, February 4, 2011
Setting off on one of our many training rides. Not bad weather for a winter's day in February! We've been trying to do as many 60 mile (100km) rides as possible before we head off. That means we've ridden to: Bandon, OR, Reedsport, OR, lots of loops around the bay, Allegheny, and other combinations of those. So far so good! And the highlight was a whopping chocolate malt, guilt-free!, mid-way through our longest ride yet. :)
The Route - overview
The Route - overview
This is an overview of the route that we will be riding, as published by the organisation Adventure Cycling Association. It starts in San Diego, California and finishes in St Augustine, Florida, passing through Phoenix, Arizona, Austin, Texas and close to New Orleans, Lousiana along the way. We are hoping to have enough time to take a few detours, if we can handle a few extra miles of riding!! The whole route, without detours, is 3,092.5 miles (4977 kms), which is more than enough if you ask me!
Some specifics about the route
In case anyone is curious about what the route involves (copied from the Adventure Cycling Association website):
The Southern Tier Route can be ridden between early fall and late spring. In September and May, there still might be some very hot weather to contend with at either end of the route. Note that snow can occur at any time in the higher elevations in the Southwest during the winter, and the highest pass in New Mexico is over 8,000 feet. If you are doing a winter trip, remember that you will have short daylight hours. Due to changing local conditions, it is difficult to predict any major wind patterns, but here are a few known observations. In California, dry easterly winds predominate in the fall, blowing west from the desert. In western Texas, winds from the Gulf of Mexico will cause headwinds for eastbound riders. Be aware that hurricanes can occur from July through November along the Gulf Coast of the Florida panhandle and can also hit the Atlantic seaboard.
After climbing away from San Diego on the California coast and topping out at 3,800 feet, the desert appears. The route travels through the Yuha Desert and the below-sea-level, irrigated Imperial Valley, before splitting the Algodones Dunes Wilderness Area in half. In Arizona, the snowbirds abound as the route travels through Phoenix and its surrounding communities, and the copper-mining towns of Miami and Globe. The Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park east of Superior and the Besh Ba Gowah Archeological Park in Globe are attractions not to be missed. You'll be riding through dry, sparsely populated ranch country where every town will be a welcome sight and a chance to top off your water bottles. New Mexico offers Silver City for the latte drinkers, along with the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument, some of the best preserved Mogollon cliff dwellings around.
The ride along the Rio Grande into El Paso, Texas, is a treat for bird lovers, especially during migration season, when the birds are flying north or south. Texas dominates this route, taking up an entire third of the mileage. Starting in El Paso, just across the Rio Grande River from Juarez, Mexico, the route follows the river southward before turning east and heading through the Davis Mountains, where some of the friendliest folks on the whole route reside. You'll pass the McDonald Observatory atop 6,800-foot Mt. Locke. There's a visitor center with daily tours, and evening "Star Parties" three days per week. After the Davis Mountains, towns are few and the country desolate, full of sagebrush and tumbling tumbleweeds. As you travel through central Texas, the terrain starts to feel like the Alps, but this is actually the famous "hill country." This diverse area serves some great barbeque and is the training ground for Lance Armstrong, seven-time Tour de France winner. If you take the alternate route through Austin, make sure you go hear some of the diverse music available at the nightclubs on Sixth Street.
Louisiana is like no other state in the United States due to its history, language, culture, and food. First of all, they have parishes instead of counties. Traveling right through the middle of Cajun country, in places like Mamou, a stop in a cafe is a trip unto itself. The crowd is speaking English, but you can't understand the words. Try to hear some lively Cajun music if you have the time. Mississippi offers rural riding all the way into Alabama, where the route crosses a bridge to Dauphin Island. From there it's a ferry ride across Mobile Bay to Gulf Shores and some of the whitest beaches in the world. If the ferry is closed due to inclement weather, you will have to take the alternate route through Mobile.
The scenery varies greatly across Florida, from the historic coastal city of Pensacola to the alligator-filled waters of the area around Palatka. The route ends in St. Augustine, a city full of interesting buildings and the Castillo de San Marcos, a fort that has guarded the city's waterfront for over three centuries.
Terrain
The route offers challenging terrain right from the start, with some longer climbs leaving San Diego all the way up to In-ko-pah Pass, about 70 miles east of the Pacific coast. There are two mountain passes in New Mexico, the highest being Emory Pass at 8,228 feet, which is also the route's highest point. The route just north of Silver City, New Mexico, which goes to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument, offers some steep, challenging, rolling mountains, as does the hill country west of Austin, Texas. East of Austin the route flattens out as it meanders through piney woods, by bayous, along farmlands and woodlots, and past the Gulf Coast all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.
Logistics
Isolated stretches, especially in the western states of California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas are not uncommon. Services are infrequent and can dictate long miles on some days. The 144-mile stretch from Marathon to Comstock, Texas, calls for specific planning and carrying of food and water. Bike shops are not as plentiful as one would like, and there are none for the 450 miles between El Paso and Del Rio, Texas. There are also none between Bastrop, Texas, and Orange Beach, Alabama (870 miles), unless you go off route into Baton Rouge, Louisiana, or Mobile, Alabama.
The Southern Tier Route can be ridden between early fall and late spring. In September and May, there still might be some very hot weather to contend with at either end of the route. Note that snow can occur at any time in the higher elevations in the Southwest during the winter, and the highest pass in New Mexico is over 8,000 feet. If you are doing a winter trip, remember that you will have short daylight hours. Due to changing local conditions, it is difficult to predict any major wind patterns, but here are a few known observations. In California, dry easterly winds predominate in the fall, blowing west from the desert. In western Texas, winds from the Gulf of Mexico will cause headwinds for eastbound riders. Be aware that hurricanes can occur from July through November along the Gulf Coast of the Florida panhandle and can also hit the Atlantic seaboard.
After climbing away from San Diego on the California coast and topping out at 3,800 feet, the desert appears. The route travels through the Yuha Desert and the below-sea-level, irrigated Imperial Valley, before splitting the Algodones Dunes Wilderness Area in half. In Arizona, the snowbirds abound as the route travels through Phoenix and its surrounding communities, and the copper-mining towns of Miami and Globe. The Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park east of Superior and the Besh Ba Gowah Archeological Park in Globe are attractions not to be missed. You'll be riding through dry, sparsely populated ranch country where every town will be a welcome sight and a chance to top off your water bottles. New Mexico offers Silver City for the latte drinkers, along with the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument, some of the best preserved Mogollon cliff dwellings around.
The ride along the Rio Grande into El Paso, Texas, is a treat for bird lovers, especially during migration season, when the birds are flying north or south. Texas dominates this route, taking up an entire third of the mileage. Starting in El Paso, just across the Rio Grande River from Juarez, Mexico, the route follows the river southward before turning east and heading through the Davis Mountains, where some of the friendliest folks on the whole route reside. You'll pass the McDonald Observatory atop 6,800-foot Mt. Locke. There's a visitor center with daily tours, and evening "Star Parties" three days per week. After the Davis Mountains, towns are few and the country desolate, full of sagebrush and tumbling tumbleweeds. As you travel through central Texas, the terrain starts to feel like the Alps, but this is actually the famous "hill country." This diverse area serves some great barbeque and is the training ground for Lance Armstrong, seven-time Tour de France winner. If you take the alternate route through Austin, make sure you go hear some of the diverse music available at the nightclubs on Sixth Street.
Louisiana is like no other state in the United States due to its history, language, culture, and food. First of all, they have parishes instead of counties. Traveling right through the middle of Cajun country, in places like Mamou, a stop in a cafe is a trip unto itself. The crowd is speaking English, but you can't understand the words. Try to hear some lively Cajun music if you have the time. Mississippi offers rural riding all the way into Alabama, where the route crosses a bridge to Dauphin Island. From there it's a ferry ride across Mobile Bay to Gulf Shores and some of the whitest beaches in the world. If the ferry is closed due to inclement weather, you will have to take the alternate route through Mobile.
The scenery varies greatly across Florida, from the historic coastal city of Pensacola to the alligator-filled waters of the area around Palatka. The route ends in St. Augustine, a city full of interesting buildings and the Castillo de San Marcos, a fort that has guarded the city's waterfront for over three centuries.
Terrain
The route offers challenging terrain right from the start, with some longer climbs leaving San Diego all the way up to In-ko-pah Pass, about 70 miles east of the Pacific coast. There are two mountain passes in New Mexico, the highest being Emory Pass at 8,228 feet, which is also the route's highest point. The route just north of Silver City, New Mexico, which goes to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument, offers some steep, challenging, rolling mountains, as does the hill country west of Austin, Texas. East of Austin the route flattens out as it meanders through piney woods, by bayous, along farmlands and woodlots, and past the Gulf Coast all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.
Logistics
Isolated stretches, especially in the western states of California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas are not uncommon. Services are infrequent and can dictate long miles on some days. The 144-mile stretch from Marathon to Comstock, Texas, calls for specific planning and carrying of food and water. Bike shops are not as plentiful as one would like, and there are none for the 450 miles between El Paso and Del Rio, Texas. There are also none between Bastrop, Texas, and Orange Beach, Alabama (870 miles), unless you go off route into Baton Rouge, Louisiana, or Mobile, Alabama.
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