Diapers, Deserts, and Dehydration

So in the time that has expired since my last blog we have crossed the desert of California and Arizona, or at least part of it. We originally thought it would be a good idea to get up early and bike then find a place to rest for the hot part of the day and then bike as long as we could stand into the night, find a place to sleep and then do it again. Our first night we tried it we faced probably the biggest climb of the ride. A ten mile ride up a ten percent grade took us three and we pulled into a rest stop around midnight totally exhausted. It looked like a downhill was coming up so we considered continuing the ride bit decided to stop and get very little sleep next to the rest stop and freeway. It wasn't quite as bad as the night we accidentally slept right next to the train tracks but it was close. Although the sleep was bad it was good that we did be cause two miles down the road we ran into road construction so we jumped off the freeway, it is the only paved road that goes through this part of the country, jumped a barbwire fence and then found a dirt road and pushed, rode and carried our bikes for two miles where the road construction had stopped pushed our bikes back over the desert jumped the fence and started riding again which brouht us along to the highlight of the trip for me thus far, The General George S. Patton Memorial Museum! Oh it was so cool. So you are probably wondering as I was why is there a Patton museum literally in the middle of nowhere California. Well the answer is that shortly after WWII started or at least after the U.S. got involved Patton set up a training camp of 18,000 square miles to get American soldiers ready for the African desert. The soldiers called it "the land God forgot," and I whole heartedly agree. So there were a bunch of cool old tanks and stuff to look at totally worth checking out if you are nerdy like that. So we spent most of the hot part of the day at Chiriaco Summit hanging out at the museum and talking to strangers at the gas station. Dan had some particularly good advice about traveling since he had hitchhiked and walked all over the country, much of which we have already applied to our travel. So this point was the start of our desert travel since after Chiriaco Summit it was 50 miles of desert to the next certain water source. It ended up that we were able to get some water from a run down cafe that charged to use the bathroom so our total distance without water was cut in half and we made it the 50 or so miles to water that was not handed out by a failing restaurant owner. We found a rest stop ate in the yellow glow of a lightpost and crashed. He next day we made it to a real town, Blythe, California, and got our groceries where a lady asked where our biking clothes were. Apparently the huge pad that and is the only thing that even attempts to make my bike seat comfortable is not visible underneath the pants I wear over it. I think that is a good thing? So we put Blythe to our backs and jumped in the Colorado river marking the stateline between California and Arizona and promptly got stuck at a truckstop not wanting to bike in the 107 degree heat. Okay it is late I'll finish this story later.

Training

Prior to the trip many people asked us how our training was going and what we were doing to get in shape for the ride. The answer was always the same. "Training? What for?" We did plan however to start a little slower and gradually work up to big mile days. It is only our third biking day of the trip but we were both were feeling good and made it 68 miles. We were passed by a few unladen, Lycra clad bikers today as we were flying up hills and both came to the awakening that we would rather not train than train without gear and than constantly have that thought at the back of your mind telling you how much faster and easier this would be if you weren't carrying your life on the back of your bike. Another awakening was bike trips are considerably more fun when the ride is downhill. Other than a few roads ending, trespassings, freeway biking, dinosaurs, and warnings from tattoo sleeved ladies of "tweakers" in the area today was pretty uneventful.

P.s. Is if bad I had to ask Drover what a "tweaker" is?

Adventure Time

So when the crap really hits the fan at work in an effort to reassure myself that somewhere unicorns are frolicking I'll say to my co-worker "well I guess this is just adventure time with Christian and (fill in the blank)." Just before coming on this trip I left my credit card at a restaurant. I haven't got my check from work and won't until I bike back to Mesa so that left me with 80 dollars to live on for two weeks. Adventure Time! I know that probably sounds like a lot but it has been dwindling quickly especially with some last minute bike expenses. I'm actually really excited for the opportunity and so far it has been very rewarding. First my aunt and uncle that live in Los Angeles bought me lunch and then we found a Samoan wedding reception at a church we wanted to camp at and they gave us some free food and to top it all off California has winco's spread through out. We found our first Winco on the drive down and Nate had never been so we insisted on stopping and immediately went to the big bins of trail mix and rice they have. And were we excited about all the delicious candies and things like that? No. We nerdy trailwalkers immediately found and started extracting food from the apricot and almond bins.* ** So thanks to Winco and the generous donations of others I hopefully won't arrive in Mesa looking like an emaciated hippie. Looks like we will be camping at a Stake center tonight and hopefully the bishop will let us shower and get cleaned up so we can church it up with the Samoan ward tomorrow.

* dried apricots and almonds are part of the Anasazi food pack given to all youngwalkers and trailwalkers. In other words we eat them all the time.

** I get my asterisk skills from reading Maggie Franz's blog. If you don't read it you should if only to be amazed by her asterisk skills.

It's official. Were doin it!

Biking across Los Angeles at 11:00 at night is a once in a life time experience probably because it should only be done once and then you learn from your mistakes. Despite the lack of training we made up and down the small hills of Los Angeles and to our destination for the evening. I met up with an old friend on the pier and she offered us a place to stay for the night and refused to let us camp in their front yard. Drover and I were down for either. We said our goodbyes to Nate who dropped us off and filmed our departure from the pier. The ride was nerve racking but uneventful except for a ride past a lot where they store cars for movies. Drover and I got pictures taken next to a swat van straight outta Gotham. It was late so we didn't stay long and I didn't have to detain Drover from investigating further. 24 miles down, 2700 to go.

September 15, 2011

My forgotten blog has been rembered once again on the eve of my trans-continental bike tour. Brief catch up on my life; I'm nearly a college grad, argh, working as a behavioral health para-professional at the original wilderness therapy program, Anasazi, about to drop life as most people know it to ride my 27 speed surly long haul trucker from Santa Monica pier, California to St. Augustine, Florida. I dumped my blanket and boots wednesday night and loaded up my bike gear Thursday afternoon and headed off after a last supper graciously provided at my expense by Texas roadhouse. Then finally and suddenly I was sitting in the truck of a friend headed to our jump off point and that catches me up to now, my excitement only exceeded by nervousness. I can never help but be slightly terrified before jumping into the unknown but am comforted by the possibility of someone stumbling upon this blog and then offering millions of dollars to reproduce my life on the silver screen and then haunted again thinking of the outcomes of two of the more recent wilderness warrior films where one protagonist removed a limb and the other starved to death in a bus. Anyway adventure beckons and the call is to irresistible to ignore.