I woke up with tourists whispering all around me. The first thing I did was check the alarm clock I'd set on the bench next to my head, thinking I had overslept my 5am alarm. 4:59 then Bleep bleep ble... and i shut it off. I knew i was going to need it after the night I'd had. I unzipped and slipped out of my sleeping bag, still dressed and still covered in desert grit. I stuffed away my bed and put my boots back on. A short, shy middle-aged woman tentatively looked up at me whilst she scurried by my Baby who was so rudely blocking the path around the ranger station. I groggily shuffled over to greet her (my bike not the tourist) and to strap my bed back on. "Hey, Baby. We better get you out of here before the ranger shows up. We'd had a fight the night before, but this early in the morning one can't help but feel tender towards loved ones.
I lazily threw a leg over and without firing up the engine just rolled down the hill from the Yavapai Point lookout to the parking lot below.
It was like this. Since
...about 1400 meters down there. (4,600 feet)
I had decided not to risk squatting in a designated campground for fear that I might get forced into paying, I'd spent the evening since sundown scoping a good spot to crash. This meant avoiding those pesky - friendly, informative and always helpful but still pesky in as much as their paycheck depends on fees collected - park rangers. I'd decided that Yavapai was going to be too heat-score in the morning, being the closest major viewpoint to the "town" so I headed back up the rim east. I tried Yaki point, but that was worse since only tour buses are allowed on the road, not mention no benches.
I was really looking forward to the bench. After spending weeks sleeping on gravel, rock and cold sand
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