| This weekend (10-17-09) I officially opened what I hope will become an ocean to ocean bicycle trip. I rode from where the pavement ends on San Pedro River Road (the point where I often turn around on my lunch rides), up the San Pedro Valley to Benson (note that "up" is the operative word here). It was a taxing day, and I hope this inauspicious start is not a bad omen. I would not be surprised if this short route turns out to be the hardest leg of the whole 3,000 mile journey. |
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The main problem can be summarized in one word: Washboards. The next most important requires two words: Loose Sand. Look closely, and you can see both in this image (and when you can see loose sand on a hilltop, you have to know that the wash bottoms will be challenging). |
| I also encountered three, rather territorial, canines (the third one is not shown). Barking dogs usually play a bluffing game, but if you run, they are very happy to chase you. I dismounted to confront them, and then pushed the bike the 300 yards or so it took me to pass the gate they were protecting before I was able to continued on my way. While I did not have to resort to even the threat of violence; it was reassuring to know that my CCW permit was functional. (If you look closely, you can just make out the washboards on the road surface.) |
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One casualty of the trip was my desert waterbag. I had suspended it off the handlebars, but apparently it rubbed on some sharp portion of the brake assembly. Because the bicycle (and rider) experienced an exceptional amount of shaking, the waterbag lasted less than ten miles. I also carried an additional 4 liters of water in soda bottles in my basket. That turned out to be sufficient for survival, but cool water is much more potable. I hope to be able to repair the damage to the water bag, and I obviously have to re-engineer the support system. |
| Road construction is a bicyclists worst nightmare, and I did not expect to encounter it on a back road in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, there was only a very short section. |
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I knew the trip would be difficult, but I still wasn't prepared. Any speed faster than 4 mph and the washboards shook you until your brains rattled (that's an oxymoron, as no one with brains would have attempted the ride), and at any speed below 4 mph your tires sank into the sand. Did I mention, it was uphill? And, of course, there was the omnipresent headwind. And, you may have heard of muscle cramps... At the end of the trip, I noted that the rear rim was bent to the point that it rubbed on the brake on one side, and then the brake on the other. |
| My original plan was to ride to Willcox, but after 36.1 miles of washboards and sandtraps, I encountered smooth pavement. Then, about 150 yards after the start of the pavement, the dirt road leading to Willcox turned off (3 E Links Road). I could see that the first 100 yards of that road was deep, soft, sand and it was evident the road was starting a long steep climb. I tried my best to make the turn, but the bicycle simply refused to go there. So, we (the bicycle and I) followed the pavement the next 22 miles into Benson, where I was rescued by AJ and Brittney. After attempting to compose a description of the anguish inflicted by that dirt road, I have concluded that English lacks words adequate for the task. So, I'll just close by saying, "Note to self: Don't ever try that again!" |
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