So, we're a week in. A week into my first tour with someone else. It's been good so far. There's been some struggles resulting from our different approaches to things, but we've been working toward a balance. I would rather go a longer day if it means getting a night inside with a Warmshowers host, Joel is happier to camp night after night if it means shorter days in the saddle. I like riding continuously, eating and drinking while I ride, and mostly stopping for scenery, while Joel prefers to stop for more regular breaks. I am more open to spending money, while Joel is as frugal as I used to be. I eat junk food, while Joel actually cooks. ...Honestly, despite being 18, he's probably the responsible one. I'm trying not to corrupt him too much.
Dwight took us to the beach in San Diego, and after a quick photo op, we were on our own. It was a good ride through the city. The ACA route steered us mostly along bike trail through the city. It was a good route. We had to do a little rerouting because all the rain had caused a street we were supposed to cross to be flooded, but it wasn't far. I did find it somewhat annoying that at streets the trail would direct you on sidewalk to cross at the nearest intersection and work your way back on the other side rather than have a crosswalk straight across, but I find that sort of thing common in urban settings where the trails are a retroactive installation and the biggest concern is not affecting car traffic. And while we did see some bicyclists using the trail, it's worth noting that we saw far more homeless people living on it. I warned Joel that once we got to the edge of San Diego we would be doing some serious climbing, but having never done a climb like that before (with or without gear), he wasn't fully ready for it. But he got through it like a champ. We slept at a nice campsite on a Native American reservation, and I was at least mostly comfortable in the 40 degrees (figured out a couple things to do better for future nights).
We had even more climbing the next day. I would ride my pace, then stop and wait for Joel before our next turn. In retrospect, I probably should have dropped gear a little more to be easier on my old man knees, but they're holding up okay. At the end of the long day, we were rewarded with a great stay in a RV, hosted by the owner of the Desert View Tower. If you're ever in the area, I can not recommend it enough. Heck, he's selling, so maybe you should buy it. There's a stunning view overlooking the desert (get it, desert view?), a tower full of eclectic historic pieces, and some interesting caves. It was a great spot to stay.
Day three our rapid descent downhill didn't gain us as much time as I had hoped, and we ended up a little off my plan. But, it meant instead of camping out in the desert dunes of Glamis, we had a nice night in a cbeap hotel in Brawley. The owner was a no nonsense gentleman with about two dozen security cams watching everywhere. His vending machine was broken though, and wouldn't let me have the soda I dearly wanted. I ended up paying a ridiculous $3 for the few cents of sugar water at whatever the heck fast food thing a Carl's Jr is.
The next day we rode out of the heavily irrigated farmland and into the desert dunes, land of ATVs. I made the mistake of assuming the store in town would have a restroom, and passed one for the ATV people out on the sand. I ended up going back for the restroom and telling Joel to go ahead when he was done with the store. He got done quicker than I expected. I was chasing after him, just out of sight, for damn near an hour, going increasingly slow as desert headwinds sapped away at me. I came upon him at last resting under a tree taking lunch. Not far after that, highway 78 turned from fairly straight with wide shoulder (if not always in good condition), to next to no shoulder, rolling hills, 65mph traffic. It was one of the worst roads I've been on (and I've been on some bad ones), and I was cursing the ACA route for taking us on it (even though there's realistically no other way to go). There was no way to know what was coming up over the hills, so vehicles (all too many of them semis) couldn't pass us safely in many stretches, but you better believe that didn't mean they were going to slow down. It was scary, and adrenaline definitely pushed us harder up those hills, no need for the honking horns. I was really glad that I had my mirror, so we could know when cars were coming up, and here and there get off on the all too few little turnoffs provided. We passed a border patrol inspection station, asking the officer if we got shoulder up ahead, to be told no, not for yet another 20 miles, and that he was surprised there weren't more accidents on the road than there are. You can believe how encouraging that was. It was a harrowing experience, and I was glad when we finally got through it. We pushed hard toward late in the day and slept that night at Peter Mcintyre Park on the edge of the Colorado River (my phone couldn't decide on what time zone it was as we were so close to the border).
I had thought we pushed daylight that day, but we pushed it much further the next. I had a host set up for us, but at a distance further than I felt we could really make with our short Winter daylight hours and having not made it as far as I'd hoped the last couple days. We followed I-10 for awhile until getting off onto highway 60, passing one little desert town after another, each filled with RV parks. I kept pushing us forward to see if we could reach our stay in Aguila and be inside for the night, or at least get closer to our stay in Phoenix with my family. I couldn't get ahold of our hosts, so we decided we'd stop at the last RV park along the way if they didn't get back by then. They hadn't by the time we arrived, so we pulled into the RV campground...and they turned us away. They told us they were strictly RV only. Yep. Even if we set up our tent freestanding on a concrete RV pad and paid exactly as much as if we had an RV, we weren't allowed. It brought up sour memories of running into three such RV parks turning me away in the South on my last tour. And worse, it left us with nowhere to go but back, or onward 20 miles to Aguila, with very little daylight, and having not been able to get ahold of our host. We gunned it for Aguila, with the sun getting low. Thankfully, our host got back to us (though there was some poor signal phone tag). It became just a matter of pushing against the approaching dark. We made it into town with the sun already set, following directions to the gated community they live in, and being led by the light of her truck through their neighborhood in the dark. In the dark, I didn't even realize we biked over a runway, or that every home we passed had a hangar. Our hosts turned out to both be pilots living in a community for pilots. They made us a great meal and a very good night's stay, which felt all the more so for the nearly 100 mile ride to the edge of daylight and beyond.
Yesterday was a fairly uneventful ride, downhill for a good amount, to Surprise, to stay at my aunt and uncle's (though sadly they had just left for Cancun). And today was a rest day here mostly spent doing various chores of the road (route planning, maintenance, groceries, the like) and watching mindless shows like Family Feud.
Tomorrow, it's back to the ride, onward through the Phoenix metro.
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