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Published: October 7th 2006
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Shawne and Jo say...
Day 7
Mileage Today: 63.8
Total Mileage: 272.8
Flats Today: 0
Total Flats: 4
We expected a hard climb right away so we left just before sunrise. Many people had warned us about the road ahead. They told tales of winding roads with no shoulders and extremely steep grades. We were warned to be very cautious of rude drivers that do not give bicyclists room to breathe. What we found was just the opposite. The grade was very manageable with shoulders wide enough for us to ride side by side. We spotted a dead bat on the shoulder and snapped a picture. We conserved our water last night (our $8.00 of water!), and even though we were both very thirsty, we only sipped. The hype about this road left us worried that we would not have enough water to reach the next town. We hoped that the Border Patrol Checkpoint that was located at a midpoint to Palo Verde might have water, but we weren't taking chances. We reached the checkpoint with ease and were told to stop. The Border Patrol Agent asked us if we were U.S. Citizens, and we affirmed. Even though we still
had a good amount of water on board, we asked if there was a chance we could top off. There were about four or five agents at the checkpoint and as one carried our empty bottles into the portable building, the other shot off with all sorts of questions about our trip. We answered all we could, then the agent emerged with our bottles full of fresh cool water! We continued on with this amazing stretch of road...most of the way the pedaling seemed effortlesss. We were flying at 25 mph on flat ground. We are sure that the Border Patrol Agents warned all drivers that came through the checkpoint that we were on this lonely stretch of road, and to be cautious and courteous. After the checkpoint, every driver in every vehicle ranging from small cars to big rigs would pass us by driving completely in the opposite lane. Thank you U.S. Border Patrol, and thoughtful drivers!
We biked up a small grade and came to some Cal-Trans road construction. The two lanes became one with flaggers at each end of the mile-or-so stretch. Unexpectedly, the flaggers shut down traffic BOTH WAYS and let us coast down the hill
Our home for the night.
Camping on the banks of the Colorado River. with the whole road to ourselves. As we reached the other end of the lane closure, there was a line of big rigs and cars waiting impatiently, wondering what the hold up could be! We smiled and waved at the drivers as we pushed on.
We stopped in Palo Verde for a bite to eat as the gas station. The gas station was the only store of any sort in this tiny town. We enjoyed our microwaved burritos and sat at a table inside the station, watching The Price Is Right on an old, static-ridden television set. Once again we filled our water bottles with ice and rode off. Miles down the road we stopped at another store to fill up with ice. Once inside, the owner told Jo that the ice machine was broken, so he went to the freezer and pulled out ice that was bagged for sale. He opened it and filled our bottles free of charge. Outside, Shawne talked with a Pepsi delivery man who was blown away by our story. A few miles down the road, as we pushed toward I-10, the Pepsi driver passed us, blew his air horn, and waved.
We passed over
Dead Bat
This little guy's sonar did not detect the approaching truck. I-10 and into the city of Blythe, CA. We asked a man repairing a bus stop where the library was. We followed his directions but still couldn't find it. We spotted a Fire Station, then the Sheriff's Office. We went inside the Sheriff's Office, but they weren't much help when Jo asked them about local spots to pitch a tent (hopefully for free). Small towns are funny...when we asked where the library was, a woman said to her husband, "It's where that car broke down on the corner." We shrugged and went further down the street to the Police Station. The dispatcher made a dozen phone calls and found the spot where the bikers ahead of us stayed, AND it was only $5.00! So, we finally found the library and worked on updating our blog. The 1991 computers they had were very slow and the USB ports did not work, so we couldn't download pictures. The girl behind the desk was hassling us abou the "You only get one hour of internet us a day" rule...even though nobody else was waiting for the computer! Jo talked her into giving us an extra half-hour, but she wouldn't budge beyond that.
We bailed out of the library and found our campground. It was right on the banks of the Colorado River at the California/Arizona border. There were dozens of renegade, ferel cats attempting to infiltrate our food cache. We set up camp, talked to some locals who once again informed us that 14 guys on bikes were "Just here last week doing the same trip, but they were much older than you guys. They were, like, 50". We ate a great dinner of green beans, chips and salsa, top ramen, and beer. We looked across the river into Arizona, thinking about our last day in California. We thought that for once, we'd get a good night's sleep, but just as we were drifting off, some creep had to ruin it. He pulled into the campground in a pickup, pulling a fifth-wheel. He had a dog which barked non-stop, and he couldn't seem to decide which of the 10 spots (8 of which were empty) looked the best. He drove around and around and around, and finally settled on the spot directly across from our tent. Like a champ, he left his high beams shining directly on our tent the entire time he set up his fifth-wheel despite dirty looks from us through the mesh window of the tent. Then he sat around outside talking to his family for at least another hour while we mumbled under our breath about his ancestors.
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momand dad
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bat
Hey, I think that's a Little Brown Bat!