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Published: October 19th 2006
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Shawne and Jo say...
Day 18
Miles Today: 46.1
Total Miles: 745.3
Flats Today: 2
Total Flats: 25
Waking up before sunrise, we prepared a breakfast of leftover tacos. Forest Service workers began to show up at the Ranger Station for work. Arriving in the dark last night gave us little knowledge of our surroundings. It turned out that this Ranger Station was fairly large, with many outbuildings and 20-30 government vehicles including fire apparatus and ATV's. there were even horses in a corral in the back. The horses! That's what was making all the strange noise last night! We laughed at ourselves because we thought it was someone trying to break into one of the buildings!
As the sun rose, it exposed the enormous Morenci copper mine on the other side of the valley. We saw the lights from the mine last night, and we could tell it was large. In the daylight, though, we realized the enormity of it. We could also see the road we came down last night. It turned and slithered up the mountain like a snake, with a rush-hour stream of mining traffic flowing along it, giving it life.
Jo went off to find
Shock absorbing handlebar grips!
Pipe insulation takes on a new life as our new shock absorbing system. the restroom and talked with a ranger who said he would open the shop where there was a bathroom with a shower. Cool! Another shower! Near the bathroom, Jo discovered a sticky insect trap with millipedes and scorpions stuck to it. After our showers, we went inside the Ranger Station to find a wonderful selection of reading material, trail maps, and stuffed birds mounted of the walls.
We headed for the market for more coffee and blue Monsters. Shawne's BOB trailer had a flat, so as Jo went inside, he repaired the tube. After finishing our drinks, we headed out.
The road was stained with a rust-colored substance which, upon further inspection, turned out to be guts from the Rainbow Grasshoppers. Hoards of grasshoppers covered the roads, and there were so many, it became impossible to avoid running them over. These grasshoppers are not very bright, and many would stare us down until we ran them over. POP! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! Jo initially gagged each time she ran one over. Each of our three tires would hit the body, and the sound would echo in our heads. POP! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! Today they seemed more aggressive than yesterday, and some would jump
toward us as we rode toward them. We would feel them bounce off our chests and legs. We never got used to it and would holler out loud each time it happened. Some would jump right into the spokes of our wheels, TINK!, and then get tossed under the next tire. CRUNCH! They showed an incredible lack of grace with each jump. Springing into the air, sometimes three feet high or more, they would tumble out of control and land on their head, back, or side...never on their feet.
We are continually amazed at the size of all the bugs here. These grasshoppers are enormous! Most were as long as my finger, and as fat as two fingers put together!
The death of one grasshopper would bring several more out onto the road. They were cannibalistic, and would gorge themselves on the remains of their own kind. Then they would mate! The ranger at the station this morning said that in her ten years here, she'd never seen so many. It made us think of the locusts turning the skies black during The Great Depression. We have an idea of what it may have looked like.
The road itself was
nice, though there was no shoulder. There was very little traffic, and we only saw one big rig throughout the whole day. We rode side by side, taking the entire lane. A sign on the side of the road announced the New Mexico border was in 10 miles, but just behind the sign was a huge 6,200 foot summit with steep switchbacks and no pulloffs. We stopped every half-mile to catch our breath and drink some water.
At least we knew we were climbing, and could gauge our progress. The hills that don't look like hills are much worse. It just feels like we are moving painfully slow for no apparent reason. A long gradual uphill can look very level. After climbing it for some time and looking back, it still looks level. We ride next to one another so we can inspect each other's tires, constantly convinced we have a flat tire. An unnoticed flat tire can cause excessive sweating and can wear us out quickly. On this mountain, though, we definately knew we were climbing.
We came across a newly installed section of guardrail. There were skid marks leading over the edge into the abyss below. Crosses and
a memorial decorated the guardrail, and it's date was just a month ago. We stopped and looked over the edge. Uprooted bushes and disturbed soil marked the path of vehicle. About two thousand feet down, we could see the new red paint of an unrecognizable vehicle shining in the midday sun from the depths of the canyon.
We were consuming our water reserves at an alarming rate. We hoped for the summit sign around every corner. The road leveled out and started to decline. The landscape abruptly changed from rocky buttes and scrub brush to rolling hills covered with huge trees. The grasshoppers disappeared completely, and the downhill began. We were really frustrated that after all that work, there was no summit sign to mark our accomplishment. We really wanted a picture of that sign.
Our legs were exhausted, so we enjoyed the coasting ride through the Gila National Forest. The downhill, however, only lasted about four miles, and up we went again. "No More Hills, Please!", Shawne shouted. In the middle of the climb, a yellow sign hid behind the trees. 'Welcome to New Mexico. Land of Enchantment', the sign greeted us. FINALLY! We enjoyed a short break and
took some pictures.
Another nice downhill, and the landscape changed again. The mountain, forest landscape gave way to smaller, steep rolling hills covered with tall prairie grass. Cattle, horses, and fences appeared as we made our way into the town of Mule Creek.
There, we found a very small post office (with no bathrooms and no water). The long, slow grades of these hills were taking their toll on us. We stopped for a PowerBar snack. Shawne emptied the last of our large reserve water bottles into our squeeze bottles. That was it...the last of our water. Our legs were devastated, and we didn't have enough water to camp. We wouldn't be able to prepare food and stay hydrated throughout the night. It was still fifteen miles to Buckhorn, and with no end in sight to these steep, rolling hills, we were getting worried. We stopped at least once on each grade to catch our breath and let our legs rest. At one stop, we saw a tarantula crossing the road, and Shawne captured this award-winning photograph!
Finally, the hills flattened out. We had an incredible, smooth, gradual downhill all the way to Hwy 180. We turned on our lights
and coasted into Buckhorn just as night caught us. We found our campsite...another creepy RV park. We dumped our gear and headed for the roadside market that we'd passed a quarter-mile back. There, we purchased Mac-N-Cheese, milk, and Fritos. The woman at the counter gave us some melted butter in a styrofoam bowl, covered with tin foil, to use in our dinner. A man saw Shawne's baseball bat on the side of his trailer and asked, "What's the bat for? In case a game breaks out?"
"No," he replied, "it's mostly for illegal immigrants".
The RV park had a tent site on the grass with picnic tables covered by car ports. Surrounding the tent site were run-down buildings rotting in the New Mexico sun. Lattice covered the windows, and it made us feel we were being watched. It reminded us of a movie we'd seen titled 'House of 1000 Corpses'. There was a small outbuilding that had two washing machines, two dryers, and a tiny bathroom with a dingy shower. Signs shouted at us from every wall..."HANG MAT UP WHEN DONE WITH SHOWER!!!"..."HOLD HANDLE DOWN FOR FIVE SECONDS TO FLUSH!!!"..."LEAVE HEATER SETTING ALONE!!!"..."DO NOT OVERLOAD WASHERS!!!"..."DO NOT OVERLOAD DRYERS!!!"..."DO NOT
Dinner time!
Grasshoppers like to eat other grasshoppers. TAKE MAGAZINES FROM LAUNDRY AREA!!!"...and the list went on.
Jo was so tired, she could barely cook dinner. After we ate, we were too tired to even secure camp. Our bikes lay unlocked, our bags outside and vulnerable. We didn't care, and we barely remember crawling into the tent...
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Patricia
non-member comment
You go guys
sounds like you're having a great time........