Day 50

July 31, 2003

We broke camp and set about repairing the flat. We found that the tube had ruptured on the side opposite of the rolling surface, near the base of the valve stem. It looked like a manufacturing defect. I applied a patch, but decided to install our spare inner tube because I didn't trust the ruptured one. The patch was not in a good place for a lasting repair.

With the bike in good working order once again, we carried them over the weeds 30 feet to the road, then lashed our packs to the racks. Just then along came four bicyclists, wondering if we needed help. We talked for 20 minutes. These fellows were experienced cyclists and we learned quite a lot.

We peddled 4½ miles into Ephraim and proceeded directly to the x-mart at the north end of town. A lady working at the front door said she would watch our bikes for us. So we bought a few inner tubes, a helmet for me, and a few other odds and ends.

We rode through town, stopped at the hardware at the south end of town and bought a can of lubricant that one of the cycling fellows had recommended. Then we went into the bowling alley next door and had a wonderful breakfast. We peddled south 7 miles to Manti, which was another nice town, but we didn't stop. Then another 6 miles to Sterling, where we stopped for cold drinks.

The next eight miles with a bit of uphill walking took us to Gunnison. There we stopped at the city park for a long rest in the shade. I actually took a short nap lying on a bench. We had been watching heavy clouds building over the mountains to the southwest and southeast. But they did not look threatening when we left Gunnison.

The two miles from Gunnison to Centerfield was a bit of a challenge because the road was all torn up and the construction crew had made only two narrow lanes for traffic. Then as we rode south from Centerfield we had certain misgivings about proceeding into the storm ahead. The cloud dump wind was sending a lot of dirt and dust high into the air. The sky was black and lightning was spattering into the mountains. The further we went, the stronger the wind became, until it was all we could do to stay on the bikes.

The terrain was open farmland with no shelter. We stayed on the bikes because riding was faster than walking. And we needed to get ourselves to a safe place. Traffic was rather heavy and even the drivers were having trouble holding their own. Several of the vehicles came much closer to us than we would have preferred. The passing vehicles made the peddling all the more difficult because of the turbulence behind them. One moment we were leaning in to the wind, the next minute a truck would whiz past and it felt like we were sucked in to it.

We were determined, so eventually we reached the community of Axtell. We had seen a church steeple from a distance so we headed for it. We pulled behind the building taking shelter from the wind, then rested in the sheltered picnic area. The storm gradually abated but away to the south the sky remained very black. We knew it was raining hard there. After about an hour we set off again, wearing our rain jackets. We had headwinds and a light rain for the seven miles to Salina.

This stretch of Highway 89 had a much better, wider shoulder.

We check in to a motel in Salina. The motel clerk said it had just rained one inch, the hardest he has ever seen it rain here. We cleaned our bike tires with a rag before taking the bikes into the room. Then we walked half a block to Mom's café, which, as it turned out, has quite a reputation for its excellent home cooking. So we had a very good dinner.

We are enjoying the trip immensely. The bikes are a lot of fun and a very good way to travel. We like coming in to the towns, seeing what is there, meeting people. People are always interested by what we're doing, often intrigued by the idea of cross-country biking. And it's quite a unique pleasure to check in to a motel whenever we feel like it.

Day's mileage: 40

Day 51

Aug 1, 2003

We set off at 6:15 am and made the mistake of going south on Highway 89 to Interstate 70. At the Interstate exit there were quite a lot of amenities. We took a back road that zig-zagged west to Highway 24. Now on the proper route, we followed that to Aurora which had no amenities, and then Sigurd. Sigurd had a very small store, and we bought a few things. At the junction of 119 and 24 we stopped at a café for breakfast. The fellow cooked up an extra large meal for us; we had to take some away for lunch. The theme of this café/store could be described as rustic. One indication was the sizable collection of sweat-stained cowboy hats.

From here, Highway 24 led gradually but steadily upward for 24 miles. People had been warning us about this stretch, and indeed we found it to be good exercise. The road topped out at about 7,000 feet at the town of Koosharem, where we arrived at about 2:30 pm.

We wanted to stop here for the day because the sky was again telling of severe afternoon thunderstorms in the works. Also we were tired from the hill climb, tired enough that we would appreciate an afternoon's respite. The only motel was a small one and it was fully booked. So we went to the Koosharem café for lunch and asked the waitress about local accommodations. One of the customers piped up that she had an apartment we could stay in. When I asked the price, she said $25.00. This was half the rate of the motel and it turned out to be 10 times the accommodation.

Kendall and Lorna S. were very generous to let us stay in their apartment. After lunch we met them at the apartment and were quite surprised to see it was in brand new condition. It wasn't an apartment at all, but an add-on to their home built for their elderly parents. But now the apartment was empty. It had all the amenities of a house including a VCR player and hundreds of movies. Lorna invited us to pick out as many movies as we liked. So we watched 3 movies, all or in part.

The town's store was sparsely stocked. We bought a couple items, then went back to the Koosharem café for dinner. This town is a pit-stop for the ATV Piute Trail. Today there were three large groups, so the café staff was kept hopping. The rain held off in the immediate vicinity, but we heard that the area to the south got a major deluge. Also we heard that 2 campers had been killed by lightning sometime during the week. They has been sitting under a tree during a thunderstorm.

Day's mileage: 41

Day 52

Aug 2, 2003

We set off quietly at 6:00 am. The morning was chilly, so we rode in our shell jackets, and I had my shell mitts on. The sky was mostly cloudy. Traffic on the road was minimal, and the road led slightly downhill, so the going was excellent. We made good time all the way to Otter Creek Reservoir café, where we arrived at 8:30 am.

We stopped for breakfast and had a nice chat with the ladies working there. Their local info on the road ahead, however, did not prove correct. It was definitely not downhill all the way. Maybe all the way back, but not all the way there. And it certainly was not a 45 minute trip to Ruby's Inn. It took us the rest of the day, 6.5 hours. The one thing they did get right was that the road was paved all the way.

This stretch took us a long time because of unremitting headwinds. Headwinds make for slow going; and headwinds plus uphill grade make for walking. The waitress had told us that the temperature here had been in the 100's until 3 days ago, when the monsoons began. Now the temperature was in the mid 70's. The day was not hot, even though the sun came out and we got our usual daily sunburn.

Mainly due to the wind, the road just seemed to go on and on. At one point we were walking the bikes up a hill when Jenny found a $20.00 dollar bill off the side of the road. A short while later I found a $1.00 bill. So at least this trek is starting to pay off.

As the road led higher we entered areas of pinion pine and juniper, and then a little higher still Ponderosa pine. We stopped for a rest under a roadside Ponderosa and found that it was giving off the most wonderful scent. And lying under this tree was very restful and soothing.

Eventually we reached the junction of Highway 12 and a short ride up the hill took us to Ruby's Inn.

Nothing on this trip had been anything like we expected, and Ruby's Inn took us by complete surprise. What sounds like a quaint, out of the way establishment was actually a huge complex, reminiscent of Disneyland, teeming with tourists.

We collected our small packet of maps, and went to the restaurant and asked to be seated by our bicycles parked outside. The two hostesses could not seem to comprehend our request. We explained in some detail that we wanted to keep an eye on our bikes. Permission denied, so we gave up that idea and went in to the store.

The store was very well stocked and we picked out an Arizona highway map, because we were unsure of what route to take from here, and a package of cookies. A couple of tourists rushed ahead of us to the cashier, cutting us off. We could only shake our heads and wonder what we were doing here. We felt alien.

We went to the burger joint next door and seated ourselves at a booth immediately next to our bikes parked outside. We enjoyed burgers, fries and shakes. We spent about an hour studying the maps. The route from here was a dilemma. One fellow cautioned us not to go on Cottonwood Canyon Road because the recent rains had turned it into mud. No doubt most dirt roads and trails are muddy and possibly impassable right now.

We peddled back down to Highway 12. We had decided to go down Cottonwood Canyon Road anyway, but when we turned right on Highway 12 and started peddling toward the town of Tropic, my intuition said that this was not the right thing to do. It was such a strong sensation that I stopped and told Jenny that this doesn't feel right for some reason. Right away she realized that the Cottonwood Canyon Road was probably impassable.

She reminded me that the last time we ignored my feelings and hiked up the Blackfoot River a full day, we had to turn back.

So there by the side of the road we turned around and peddled a short ways to Bryce RV Park and Motel. After much deliberation, we took a room for the night.

Rode 66 miles today.

Day 53

Aug 3, 2003

We set off at 6:15 am. The dawn was very chilly because the sky was clear, allowing for radiation cooling. We peddled west on Highway 12, passing several establishments where we could have gotten food and drink, were it not so early or a Sunday. At one point we passed a sign that read: Summit 7,200 feet.

Soon we came to a sign that read: Bicycles must exit highway." This seemed strange, until we realized that we were being directed onto a beautiful, paved bike trail.

This bike path led down through Red Canyon. Initially the ride was quite exhilarating as we sped downhill along the curving, winding path. Never mind that the morning was so cold that our hands were painfully numb from the cold. Our feet were cold also, because we were going downhill and we could not peddle to generate warmth. The scenery became more spectacular every mile with beautiful pink and red sandstone cliffs and totems. The early morning light brought out the colors. Unfortunately the bike path ended and we found ourselves back on the highway. But the traffic was minimal and we soon found ourselves at the junction with Highway 89.

At the junction were more motels and cafés, but we didn't stop. We turned south and before long the sun began warming us. At the town of Hatch we stopped at a gas station/c-store and went in for warming hot cuppas and microwaved burritos and pastries. We also bought a few extra snacks for the road.

Highway 89 was a challenge because the shoulder was minimal. So along the way we found a few pieces of bright, fluorescent green cardboard - once someone's yard sale sign - and mounted these on the bikes to make ourselves more visible to the traffic.

From Hatch, the road led uphill several miles, then began a long descent where we were able to make excellent progress. At the town of Orderville we stopped at a city park behind the Senior Center for a long rest and lunch. Then at Mt. Carmel Junction we stopped at a store and bought fruit and juices. From there, Highway 89 led up four miles, much of which we walked, pushing the bikes and dodging the hoard of impatient drivers. Then the road led down, eventually through a beautiful canyon of pink and red sandstone cliffs.

The final couple of miles before Kanab were a challenge because the shoulder was virtually non-existent. Kanab was a tourist town, and ironically most businesses were closed on this Sunday. Their best day of business, and they are forced to attend church. For the Mormons it is a day free of filthy lucre. But of course the lucre is not filthy when it is the tithe. :)

We stopped at a sandwich shop for second lunch. Then we took the bikes to the car wash and sprayed down the gears and chain, which were getting grimy again. Three miles farther south, we crossed into Arizona. This was our 11th day on the bikes and we had crossed Utah in 9 days. In the next four miles we passed by a few bars and liquor stores, open on Sunday. Then we rode into Fredonia which was more of an Arizona-type of town: pleasant, but a little more crusty. We took a room at the small Ship Rock Motel. Subsequently we found that we had picked up a few mites.

Today was our best mileage so far: 82.

Day 54

Aug 4, 2003

We set off at 5:25 am (now on Pacific Standard Time), the morning was only chilly, compared to the previous morning. Within half an hour we had removed our shell jackets. We had hoped there would be very little traffic on this Highway 89A, but that proved not to be the case. During the first hour, the traffic was light, but it steadily grew heavier throughout the morning.

The road climbed gradually up rolling prairie lands of sage. At one point we found a tarantula on the road, so we stopped and quickly ushered it off before the next car came along. It was a very nice creature. As soon as we came close it got alarmed, but soon it seemed to realize we meant no harm.

The road at Fredonia was about 4,500 feet elevation, so we definitely had our work cut out for us, climbing to 7,900 feet at Jacob Lake. That, and dodging the traffic. Nevertheless it was an interesting ride and we enjoyed watching the ecology change as we gained altitude, from sage to juniper and pinion, and finally to the beautiful Ponderosa pine forest. The temperature was probably in the 80's at Jacob Lake so the air was cooler.

Once into the Ponderosas the road roller-coasted for several miles, and we found that we had 3 speeds. One was zooming downhill faster than we could peddle, and often requiring the use of the brakes. Two was grinding up the next hill in low gear. And three was walking the bikes when the hill was too steep. It always felt good to get off the bikes and walk, as a relief from the strenuous peddling, and as a relief from the seat. We still have not figured out how people sit on bicycle seats. Also today, my feet were sore in the usual blister-prone areas.

Finally we reached Jacob Lake. This is another complex, not very large, but heavily inundated with tourists. We walked in to the restaurant area. The place was packed and customers at tables with no food. It was ironic to spend the morning on the road with the heavy-footed tourist practically flying up the mountain, and then to see them congregating here en masse, waiting to be served. All that speed did them little good. We decided not to join them in the restaurant.

Instead we shopped in the small store and half filled a hand basket with groceries. Then we sat in the lobby drinking cold juice, with our bikes parked visibly just outside. It had taken us 6-1/2 hours to bike the 30 miles from Fredonia to Jacob Lake.

We peddled on and soon came to the Arizona Trail crossing. The region at the crossing is nothing like what I had imagined. It was in the beautiful Ponderosa forest.

After another stint of uphill, the road led downhill in earnest. This is where we began to make some real time. The hill was too steep for freewheeling, and we had to stay on the brakes quite a bit. But still we moved fast, and at such times we could not pull over for the traffic coming along behind us, because of the lack of shoulder. Getting too close to the edge at that speed would be very dangerous. For a ways we had to let the traffic back up behind us. On the way down we could see the cumulus clouds to the east all had red or pink colored bottoms. By this we knew there was a great deal of red or pink colored desert terrain ahead.

Eventually the canyon opened to reveal a spectacular view of magnificent red sandstone escarpments, the southern edge of the Paria Canyon and Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness. We stopped at a view-point where we could see the road stretching east for a great many miles through the House Rock Valley. It looked very imposing. It was fairly hot down here, about 95 degrees, and it looked like it could be a real ordeal getting across the desert valley.

A few switchbacks led us out onto the desert with the bikes going full tilt. Contrary to expectations, the bikes kept right on going. It didn't look like it, but the terrain was downhill almost all the way across the desert valley. We made outstanding time. On this 30-mile stretch we averaged 15 mph, but we also descended 4,000 feet. It was quite interesting peddling along the escarpments towering above us in sheer sandstone cliffs. All along the way, the road passed over concrete culverts that would have been good places to rest in the shade. We only stopped once, though, to take a few photos.

Eventually the road rounded a corner, and suddenly there was the small town called Cliff Dwelling. We pulled in to a gas station and went in for cold drinks. There was also a motel and restaurant here. We peddled another four miles to the small town of Vermillion Cliffs, which had a restaurant, and then another 4 miles to the town of Marble Canyon where we checked into a motel. This complex had a very nice motel, restaurant, gas station, post office, c-store, laundromat and showers, and a nice boating-oriented sporting goods store. It was all run by the native Navajo Indians.

The first 30 miles this morning up to Jacob Lake had taken us 6 1/2 hours. The second 30 miles downhill took us 2 hours.

Day's mileage: 69. We had arrived at Marble Canyon about 4:00 pm.

Day 55

Aug 5, 2003

We set off at 5:00 am. In less than one minute we reached the Navajo Bridge crossing the Colorado River. This took us by surprise. The river here flows through an enormous slot canyon, so it is hidden from view. We stopped on the bridge to admire the river gorge and canyon walls. The river was quiet, and it also seemed the water level was quite low.

From there the road led south. It felt good to be pointed south again after a full day of going east. The elevation here was something like 3,500 feet and the vegetation was extremely sparse and low lying.

The road climbed for 14 miles to Bitter Springs, paralleling a huge wall of sandstone.

Nearing Bitter Springs we could see Highway 89 from Page descending a remarkable wall on a blasted out diagonal.

Bitter Springs was a Navajo town of government built houses. It had no amenities for the traveler. Now on Highway 89, traffic about doubled at that point. We continued south to Cedar Ridge - no amenities - and The Gap, which had a grocery store, bathrooms and laundromat. The Gap was just that: a gap in the long escarpment we had been following since Marble Canyon.

We stopped at the store and bought juice, milk, canned fruit, and some other snacks. The day was hot and we were glad to buy the moist food and drinks.

Reaching the junction with Highway 160, we were surprised at the amount of traffic. The number of vehicles from that road tripled the amount on ours. We were now on a major highway. Sometimes the shoulder was good; other times it was virtually non-existent. The going was almost always slow because we were climbing steadily uphill, and into a headwind.

At one point we stopped to rest in a concrete culvert under the highway. The culvert would have been cool were it not for the strong wind blowing through it. The wind was so hot that it felt like it was coming from a furnace. But at least we had shade and could lie down to rest. When traveling by bicycle, we greenhorns do not rest by sitting on the butt.

Eventually we reached the Navajo town of Cameron, and took a room at the Trading Post Hotel. Ironically, this was a very high quality establishment reminiscent of the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite. The entire Cameron Trading Post complex was quite beautiful. The room was fairly expensive for the likes of us, but we decided to treat ourselves. It was a beautiful room, nicely decorated. We ate dinner in the restaurant. Jenny ordered the Mini Navajo Taco - a large piece of fry bread covered with the typical taco ingredients, with all the ingredients fresh, nothing out of a can.

Day 56

Aug 6, 2003

This part of our trip is a curious mixture of strenuous and challenging days on the bikes, and pleasant evenings in motels as though we were tourists like everyone else in their cars. The problem is that the nights are short and the days are long. We would have liked to linger and lounge at this motel all morning, but we had to take advantage of the cool mornings and could not waste a single minute of them. So dawn found us peddling south on the highway after a 5:10 am departure.

It was a long 9-mile climb up to the town of Gray Mountain, where the highway left the Navajo Indian Reservation. Even though we were no longer in the reservation, everything south, almost to Flagstaff, seemed to be Navajo. The road continued climbing and the wind continued blowing from the south, so again the going was slow. The highway led up a long grade, maybe 15 miles long that in places was too steep to peddle comfortably, so we walked at least a mile of it.

Finally we reached summit at 7,200 feet. Meaning we had climbed nearly 4,000 feet from the Colorado River. We were now in Ponderosa forest again. The highway then led down, but the wind was so strong that we had to peddle downhill. We reached the outskirts of Flagstaff and stopped at a gas station for a sandwich and cold drinks. Then the highway led up another long hill. We had to walk some of it because of the wind.

Eventually we stopped at a motel at about 3 pm. The town was not built with the bicyclist in mind. There was no shoulder on the road, although for the last mile there was a sidewalk. The traffic was fierce. We had a lot of cloud cover, which really helped keep the temperature down, as did the altitude. Flagstaff is at nearly 7,000 feet.

Day 57

Aug 7, 2003

Layover Day in Flagstaff. We slept in late, went to the restaurant next door for breakfast. Rested a couple hours, napped, then packed up and re-located to the Townhouse Motel downtown, in order to be closer to the library. Later we rode our bikes south for 3 or 4 blocks to a c-store and fast food restaurant.

Day 58

Aug 8, 2003

Our motel room was very small and the train tracks very near. Trains passed by all night and were loud. And so was the traffic on the highway, also nearby.

The eastern side of Flagstaff was one long strip of motels and restaurants, there must have been a couple hundred of them. The train tracks paralleled that. Downtown were a number of shops catering to the tourists and a number of eateries, catering to the downtown coat and tie set. The south part of town was a lot of newer construction, more motels, big chain stores, more interesting college campus oriented businesses.

This morning the sky was clear, the morning very chilly, the streets were quiet and perfect for riding. We set off at 5:20 am and followed Milton Road south, following signs to Lake Mary Road. After about 45 minutes I finally stopped to put on my shell jacket to warm up. Jenny had worn hers from the start.

Lower Lake Mary was dry except for a meandering creek that had attracted 3 or 4 Great Blue Herons and a number of ducks. Yesterday's rain had left a beautiful veil of mist hanging over the dry lake bed and a welcome freshness to the air. The lake bed comprised grasses in various shades of green, and was surprising long and narrow. It went on for mile after mile.

Eventually we reached an earthen dam which this marked the end of Upper Lake Mary. This was a genuine lake, although not a very deep one. And again, it went on for mile after mile. The whole region was very clean. No litter or signs of abuse from ORV or loggers. The local forest protectorates (Coconino National Forest) were doing a great job taking care of the region.

As the morning began to wear on, the mist lifted, the paved road began to dry, and our hands began to warm and regain feeling. Soon we came to Mormon Lake, a vast lake bed, dry except that the recent rain had created some spongy areas. Along the road we saw quite a lot of scat that looked like bear. All through this region the forest was Ponderosa.

We followed the main road south past Mormon Lake. The further we went, the more the traffic began to build. The highway had virtually no shoulder south of Mormon Lake, and this was the case all the way to Payson. Also there were a number of uphill stretches so we did a fair amount of walking.

In a downpour we reached Clint's Well and stopped at the restaurant there. It was thronging with customers. We parked our bikes by the window where we could see them from inside, as usual. We dried our arms, heads and faces with a hand towel, then went inside. We enjoyed a very nice and expedient lunch. We never know what to expect on the road ahead. This restaurant was a very pleasant surprise. Also there was a nice gas station/c-store.

The next 10 miles had many uphill sections. The traffic was much heavier now that Highway 89 had joined our route. The rain continued, and at one point was cascading from the sky. We found that the drivers were intolerant of bicyclers in heavy rain. From the top of the last hill the road started leading down. In the heavy traffic we could not go fast because of the danger of falling off the side of the road. The drivers were about 50/50 between considerate and not particularly caring if they killed us. Three or four of them even blared their horns. This made things worse for everyone. By law, bikes are not illegal on such roads, but the drivers tend to be extremely possessive.

The final couple of miles to Strawberry were steep, as it descended the Mogollon Rim on its western edge. Peddling through Strawberry and Pine felt very strange because we had scoped this region out earlier in the year with the intent of hiking through here. The thought that we would be bicycling instead of hiking had not crossed our minds. From here to Payson the traffic was almost unbearable, but we were even more determined to reach Payson. There were quite a few hills we had to walk up, but no more rain.

Eventually we rolled in to Payson. It was rush hour and the place was absolutely jammed with frustrated drivers. Just to see the look on their faces reinforced the thought that automobiles do not belong on this planet. At least that was our thinking at the moment. About one mile south we checked in to a motel.

Day's mileage: 95

Day 59

Aug 9, 2003

From the motel in Payson we set off at 5:20 am beneath clear a sky. The early morning was cool, and we wore shell jackets, along with the usual polyester shirt and shorts. Asking around, someone had told Jenny that the road to Mesa had a large shoulder all the way, and that the town of Sunflower, midway along the 80-mile jaunt, had a grocery store. The road began with virtually no shoulder, and this persisted for several miles. We continued on the hope that a shoulder would soon begin. Which eventually it did.

The road began descending at the standard 6% grade, and at one point we happened on what looked like an overgrown burrowing owl sitting on the shoulder ahead. We braked to a stop, right in front of what turned out to be a barn owl. Obviously it had been hit, or at least grazed, by a passing vehicle, for it did not fly away from us. It was in a stupor, and after a few long moments it flew away - but only to the other side of the road. So at least it's wings were not broken. I approached it again, and gently encouraged it to fly farther away from the dangerous road. Which it did, but again only 20-feet. But at least now it was safely off the road. So we left it to recover, and continued on our way.

The descent was long and we used a lot of brakes, as we did not trust our bikes at much over 20 mph or so. Obviously they were not built for speed, and we were not inclined to experiment. So we had to stop a few times to allow the wheel rims to cool. At each stop we found them hot to the touch. I could see the advantage of disc brakes, as they would not heat the rubber tires and tubes.

The country we passed through was very interesting, with mountains and deep valleys. But we had to focus mainly on the road's shoulder immediately ahead, because it was littered all along the way with broken glass and shreds of blown tires. These pieces of tires were ubiquitous, and because they contained steel wire they were dangerous to run over because the wire could puncture a tire. Several times we found bits of wire embedded in one of our tires. As the morning wore on the traffic increased, but the wide shoulder allowed us to essentially ignore the traffic, and zone it out.

The town's grocery store proved an illusive figment of the fellow's imagination; at least we did not find it. But since we were making excellent progress we counted it no major loss.

The way was not all downhill, however. Several long uphill stretches presented themselves, and one of these in particular was 4.5 in length and so steep we had to walk most of it. This is when the day's heat started getting to us, because when walking, the breeze was zilch. At least with the completion of each uphill push, we were rewarded with a downhill coast. Unfortunately, the more downhill, the lower the elevation and the more oven-like the temperatures.

By mid-afternoon as we were nearing the Verde River, Jenny started complaining of feeling sick and needing to get out of the sun. Yet we could see civilization looming ahead, and I felt it best to press ahead, as I hoped we would soon reach a store with cold drinks. And cold is what we needed to combat the heat. She was gasping and saying she wanted to stop in the shade, and I felt her symptoms were psychological. Later in the day I would learn how wrong I was about this.

Jenny bravely persisted and before long we did indeed reach a convenience store. Stepping inside, we were hit with the cold, air-conditioned atmosphere, and knew we had reached heaven. We bought and devoured a number of cold drinks, but had to sit outside in the heat while drinking them, as the place had no inside seating. I consumed two large cups of soda on ice, and because of the high sugar content, this soon proved a big mistake. So did the hot dog we split between us. By the time we peddled away I was feeling ill.

We continued SW along the road for about 5 miles, and my ability to carry on diminished with each mile. Just beyond the turnoff to Gilbert road I began having difficulty staying on my bike. And once again Jenny was telling me that she needed to find shade. Yet there was no shade anywhere. I laid my bike down by the side of the road, and at Jenny's suggestion I sat down. But the ground was like a frying pan, so I stood back up. Then I began feeling like I was drowning, going under despite my best efforts to remain afloat (conscious). This caused me to nearly panic, because I knew that if I fainted onto the hot ground it would burn me or at least worsen my condition enormously. And looking around I could find nowhere - as far as the eye could see - to lie down out of the sun.

The odd part was the traffic whizzing past, ignoring our plight. Perhaps from the air-conditioned comfort of their cars, the drivers didn't imagine it possible that someone outside could be literally dying of the heat. Perhaps they thought I was staggering around drunk.

I gathered my resolve, mounted the bike, and we peddled a short ways back toward the junction. Right away I spotted a culvert beneath the road that I had not noticed earlier. I steered the bike down the embankment, laid the bike down, and then removed a few tumbleweeds from in front of the culvert. Then I crawled about six feet inside, and laid down on its the sandy bottom. The culvert was corrugated steel pipe about 3-1/2 feet in diameter, and unfortunately the metal was very warm but not hot enough to burn like the ground outside. And it protected us from the killing sun.

Jenny retrieved our foam pads from her pack and we lay on those, for the insulation from the ground heat. The pads were quite thin, but they certainly helped. Fortunately we carried a bottle of ice water, and this I placed on my head. The culvert's interior was far from cool, but at least it was not deathly hot like outside. So we lay there for over an hour, as our body temperatures slowly returned to the operating range. And it wasn't until after the first half an hour that I could begin to properly focus my eyes.

Lying there, I realized that Jenny's earlier plight had not been psychological. She was in the initial throws of heat exhaustion. What fooled me is that at the time I felt fine. But now I did not, and nor do I think that my bout was psychological. Still, there were a few good lessons. One, don't underestimate the heat. Later we learned that the temperature was about 112 degrees. And when feeling the need for a rest in the shade, don't ignore that. To ignore that feeling can lead to heat exhaustion and a collapse into unconsciousness. And I now knew that this can be fatal, and many people must have died in just that way.

We could remain in the culvert only as long as our supply of liquids lasted. And these we needed to consume, to help cool our bodies. So after about an hour, there came a point when we needed to evacuate the culvert and press ahead to a source of shade and water. So we decided to follow Gilbert road south. This had very little shoulder and much high-speed traffic, and I doubt whether the frustrated and aggressive drivers realized that we were occupying a small part of their road, not for recreational purposes, but for our very lives. But we peddled at a good clip, and in about an hour reached an area of stores. There, we pulled into a convenience store, went in and bought cold drinks, without sugar this time.

Now late in the afternoon, the day was beginning to cool, and much refreshed we peddled a few miles east along McKellips road, then south on Country Club to Main street, where we took a room at the Travel Lodge. Right away we plunged into the swimming pool, but oddly the water was too warm for comfort. And undoubtedly it was heated only by the sun.

More to follow ...