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Day 1

This was the week of the great bicycle extravaganza, where we (Nathen, AJ, and I) were to cover the highways between Mexico (Douglas, Arizona) and Muley Point, Utah. The plan was that we would use the first day to prepare, build a rack to transport the bicycles on the outside of the truck bed, pack the food, sleeping gear, etc., and travel to Ameilia's.

That was a really good plan, but the execution left something to be desired. Using an old cooler frame and some salvaged gas pipe, we designed and built a bicycle rack. This, and other endeavors, took longer than planned (as these types of things always do) and as we finally prepared for departure, AJ noted that two of the five lug nuts holding the front passenger side tire on the truck were missing.

Further, the studs to which they attached were broken off... That was not an auspicious observation at the start of a 1500-mile drive. When five trips to Tucson and circa $100 in tools failed to remedy the problem, we decided to sleep on it (given that we, like our options, were exhausted).

There is a principle in mathematics that says, "When repeated iterations fail to solve a complex problem, the solution can often be obtained by inspection." And thus it was with us. We could not find a socket that was large enough to fit the retaining nut on the axle, and at the same time small enough to fit down the opening where the nut resided. So, we tapped a couple of times with a hammer and chisel and the nut came right off... Some times it is difficult to decide which is more frustrating; the insolubility of the problem or the simplicity of the solution...

Day 2

The next day, Wyatt and Nathen joined us, and things progressed smoothly from there.

In Eagar, we put the truck in Wyatt's garage to keep small, four legged critters out of the food. Fortunately, the rack fit through the door (at least it did after we loaded sufficient weight on the back of the pickup to depress the leaf springs).

AJ prepared for the trip by cultivating his facial foliage. Given that his beard is red, if he were to lose the sunglasses and change the style and color of his hat, he might pass for a leprechaun. What do you think?

On his last trip to Oracle, Nathen complained of the tediousness of chopping the ingredients in salsa. After some thought, I created this salsa cutter. This is model 1-a-14. Perhaps when Nathen has reached revision 15-h-32, he will have a tool that will remove the tedium from salsa preparation.

In Eagar, I handed a camera to Ethan, showed him how to use it, and told him to take some interesting photos. The photos in this box are images that he captured.

He thought a cousin playing with a new toy should be documented.

And the toys themselves might be important.

I think this image might be illustrative. Look at the perspective. From a three-foot child's point of view, a parent is truly a towering figure, composed mostly of torso with relatively little head.

In fact, all adults seem to loom from above.

Even those crouching in chairs...

How about this image? I suspect some professionals couldn't compose this well. (Beginners luck?)

Present at Ameilia's were a motley collection of grandchildren. Unfortunately I neglected to employ my camera in a timely manner, and most of them escaped photo documentation...

...but I did manage to a couple with a propensity to dress up.

Day 3

On day three, we finally straddled a bike. This is the, "before" photo...

...and this is the after. Aside from our clothes being able to stand up by themselves, several layers of sunscreen mixed with dust from every passing car, and seven days worth of facial hair growth, there isn't really much difference.

First, the equipment had to be checked out by the child inspection team,...

...and then we started the ride by climbing the hill leading out of Eagar. Now, why we would choose to start a ride billed as, "all downhill" by climbing one of the meanest slopes on the trip, I don't know. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.

At the top of this first hill, we encountered a group of cyclists unloading their bikes for a trip to Tucson. There is a certain degree of camaraderie between cyclists, but given our propensity for "non-standard" attire, we don't automatically qualify for inclusion. As we rode by, one of them asked another, "Where's the camera?". That's ok, because at the bottom of the hill we loaded our bicycles on the truck, and they never saw us again. Somewhere, one of them is wondering how a couple of scraggly old men could stay ahead of a highly trained cycling team...

We rode mostly downhill on Highway 191 (which used to be 666), and is also called the Coronado Trail.

In places it resembles a snakes back, except that the curves are tighter and there are more of them.

This route traverses a mountain range, and while the overall slope was downhill (Eagar is at 7000 feet and Clifton is at 3700), we encountered plenty of significant uphill sections.

The plan was to throw the bike on the truck for the uphill sections and, contrary to what AJ seemed to think, that is mostly what we did.

This route runs right through the mine at Morinci.

The highway has been moved more than once, and there has been talk of moving it again, this time to another canyon entirely.

On the one hand, I am surprised that the State and a business could agree to cooperate that well, but on the other, the mine is a huge revenue source, taxpayer, and employer, and in a democracy, money talks...

At any rate, the ride through Morinci was lots of fun. The grades were steep and the curves were tight.

Through lack of foresight more than faulty planning, we arrived just after shift change. The traffic was a bit intimidating, but there was no shortage of "gawkers." I find it amusing to watch the expressions displayed by the youth of Small Town America when they are confronted with something "new."

Our route took us right by the employment office of Freeport-McMoran (the new owners of Phelps-Dodge) and interestingly, the next day Nathen received an invitation for a telephonic interview. At the time, we considered stopping, but decided that our cyclist costumes and malodorous presence might not be the best "first impression" to convey.

We camped in the "Gila Box," and paid $5 for a self-serve camping spot. On this portion of the trip, the water bags worked quite well.

Day 4

The next day we rode down to the new (at least new to me) bridge over the Gila River, then transported the bikes to the saddle of the Black Hills. We rode past this formation. I don't know if it has a name, but I think it should be called "Sleeping Cat."

There used to be another formation along this road that resembled a long eared dog, but when the highway was widened, it was demolished.

From the saddle on, it was basically downhill all the way to the Safford junction. It was a long downhill ride, marred only by a pesky headwind. We sent AJ into Safford for supplies while Nathen and I took Haekel road towards Bowie. On this road, we had our only flat tire of the trip.

After AJ rescued us, we drove to and through Bowie, through Apache Pass and somewhere along this route managed to lose a water bag. At the pavement, we rode towards Chiricahua National Monument, then Camped in the Chiricahua Mountains.

After supper, although we weren't hungry, and didn't partake of them, we made date bars. The next morning we discovered that they turned out quite well.

AJ is becoming proficient in the art of Dutch oven cooking.

AJ objected to the campsite the previous evening (Why camp in the desert?), so he got to choose this one. Actually, it worked out quite well.

Hard work makes food taste good, but sometime it increases the need for sleep. Does this look like one of those "morning after" photos?

Day 5

This day yielded few useable photos. In attempting to set up the self-timer on my camera, we inadvertently changed the exposure settings, and now have 50+ grossly over exposed images.

We rode a short section running east and west, then drove to the edge of the United States at Douglas but, lacking passports, we didn't cross the border.

While driving down the road, AJ managed to stun this bee by smashing it with his eyeball. After both he and the bee recovered, we drove to a campground on Mt. Graham where we met Karren, Jim, and KD.

Day 6

When they joined us we visited, ate lasagna, and date bars. Karren brought strawberries and very soft ice cream (which we had no trouble consuming). She also loaned us a replacement water bag for the one we lost.

It was later than our normal bedtime when we retired, and I was too lazy to stow the food in the cab of the truck. About 4 am, I was awakened to the sounds of something rattling the camp stove. Upon throwing some light on the situation, we noted a black and white tail waving over one of the food crates. I arose to confront the intruder, but he/she/it fled before I could get my feet shod.

The skunk was in the process of clawing and chawing the dipping chocolate for our macaroon cookies, but didn't eat much. In fact, you might say it barely scratched the surface. I washed it, but AJ, being squeamish, refused to consider consuming anything contaminated with skunk saliva, so I postponed making the macaroons until after returning home (where the cookies did seem to have a faint eau de skunk, but that may have just been my imagination).

I looked at the curves while ascending Mt. Graham, and decided against riding down it (it has always been a mystery to me why survival instincts tend to increase with age). Nathen and AJ did not share my concerns, and easily beat me to the bottom.

From the bottom of Mt. Graham, we drove to the saddle in the Black Hills, then rode the steep grades to the Bridge over the Gila.

From there, we drove north, riding the downhill stretches, and (mostly) completed ride to Eagar. As unlikely as it seemed (after the ride north in the oven from Douglas), we encountered snow banks along the road.

As this plaque attests, this highway was completed in June of 1926 (83 years ago). I suspect that at the time, it was a major accomplishment. Now, it would surely not meet code.

I have heard much about the "Arrow Tree," and if I'm not mistaken, one of the abodes that I frequent has a photo of it, but this was the first time I actually saw it. Being the scavenger that I am, my first impulse was to acquire climbing equipment and return, but after some effort, I suppressed that desire. I think I can count 48 arrows... What was the archer thinking?

We also ran across a herd of elk, but managed to avoid hitting any (the Linear bike will fit nicely under their belly [but watch the hooves]).

The ride was wild and exhilarating, this part alone was worth the price of admission.

I think this is close to Hannegans Meadow. Pine forests are inviting in the summer...

This was the last long downhill slope riding from Alpine to Eagar. We spent the night at Ameilia's. It was my intention to cook supper for her family as well as us, but faulty communications resulted in supper being served twice at her residence that evening.

Day 7

We camped at Ameilia's house and the next morning while we were loading the bicycles, I inadvertently noticed a grinding in the rear axle of the Linear. Investigation revealed that the inner race of the bearing was no longer smooth.

The technical term for this is spalling. I had never before seen this on a bicycle bearing, and I wonder if the bicycle shop that I employed to "tune up" the Linear after changing out the derailleur left the bearing too tight. Note to self: NO MORE BICYCLE SHOP TUNE UPS!

I was surprised to learn that there was a local bicycle shop, but not surprised that it lacked the parts we needed (the owner said they had just conducted a cleaning project and discarded their excess "junk"). So, we cannibalized a bicycle belonging to Wyatt (the younger). He wasn't too happy about that...

The repairs took longer than I wanted to spend, but there are some things that leave little latitude in the choices one has...

After finishing repairs, we were again on the road. We were able to talk Wyatt into accompanying us, and he brought along Wyatt the younger (A bribe for the lost bicycle?). That was good, because things like this are usually more fun with a larger group.

Little Wyatt had lost his first tooth the prior evening, and he was excited that the tooth fairy had been able to locate his abode.

We rode to a point just past Lyman Lake and then drove on to Muley Point, encountering dust storms around Chinle. Riding through this kind of weather would be both dangerous and deleterious to your health. If a car didn't encounter you in the murky mist, the sand would abrade your lungs, eyes, and other mucus membranes. Can I pick the weather to ride in, or what?

After the storm, it was interesting to note the patterns left by it. Each clump of vegetation had a pile of sand behind it, where the air had been slowed enough that it could no longer carry the sand. This leg of the trip also wore a hole in the brand new water bag that Karren lent us, and I have yet to face her wrath over that mishap.

We purchased some hamburger, and other produce, at a grocery store in Chinle, but when we went to cook it that night, it was nowhere to be found. We concluded that that skunk from Mt. Graham had followed us all the way to Utah. It is amazing how some scavengers are so perseverant. We camped in the cedars, near Muley Point, out of the worst of the wind. An "app" on AJ iTouch helped us level the stove. Who would have thought? However, we didn't have any "app" to help us when we discovered that each of our three air mattresses had a hole in it.

Day 8

The next morning we drove on out to Muley Point. The scenery there is nothing short of spectacular.

The next few images speak for themselves. What a neat place!

I had even considered suggesting that the next family camp out be held here, but decided that vertical real estate and small children are not really a good mix.

I was gratified, however, when I heard Wyatt say, "I need to bring Ameilia here," and later I over heard AJ say to himself, "Brittney needs to see this."

Sorry, Terra. I guess Nathen just isn't expressive.

I not sure, but I think the road down below goes out to Gooseneck State Park. I would have liked to have explored it, but that will have to be another adventure for another day.

And speaking of another day, at some point I would like to finish the riding that we planned but failed to accomplish on this trip.

I suspect that if the Grand Canyon weren't so close that it hogged all the publicity, this would be a world-class attraction. As it is, it has all the grandeur, without the traffic and crowds. I love it...

We encountered a few hieroglyphics, and we visited only a single point. If we were to explore the rocks just under the rim for its 40 to 50 mile length, I suspect we would find many more.

I enjoyed the trip, and I think the other participants did also.

AJ got sick the last day, (and if the truth be known I didn't feel too well the day after I arrived home), but other than that it was great. I don't even think that anyone was overly sore. As I learned from years of working in Scouting, any trip that concludes without a fatality is a good one...

I was unable to activate the self-timer on my camera (three website visits after returning home I finally figured it out [never would you guess it by trial and error]) so AJ used his camera to secure some group photos. Here is the master artist at work...

...and here...

...and here are the fruits of his labors.

After some effort, we finally convinced Wyatt to try his hand at bicycle riding. But what a place to start.

The Moqui Dugway is a three-mile section of dirt road that climbs about 1100 feet from the valley to the top of the ridge.

In reality, the road was rough enough, and had sufficient wash boards that a recumbent cyclist couldn't safely go faster than 10 or 11 mph,...

...and speed faster than 15 mph would undoubtedly separate him from the bicycle.

So, we laid on the breaks and enjoyed the scenery.

When we reached the pavement at the bottom, and the road straightened out, we let the bikes roll, and reached speeds in the upper 30's. I may be wrong, but I think Wyatt enjoyed that part.

So, who wants to try it next year?

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