The morning started routinely, we were up at 6 am, and packed and ready to leave shortly before 7. The Salome Restaurant didn't open until 7 or 7:30, so we thought we'd take our chances a bit further on the route at the small town of Harcuvar.
We had an easy climb for four miles into town without much breeze and temperatures in the mid-50's, and of course the sun was just peeking over the mountains, casting dramatic shadows.
The restaurant in Harcuvar was a bar and grill that hadn't opened for the day, so we just continued on, starting a pleasant descent into the next valley. That's where we had our first unexpected encounter. Andy an east-bound cyclist, came rolling up the grade toward us and stooped to briefly say hello. He'd camped at Hope the night before and was getting an early start as well. He mentioned that Graham another older cyclist was behind him and to pass on his greeting when we met him.
We continued our descent and next rode by a guy camping by the side of the road, with all his gear in a shopping cartcart. He hadn't awakened as far as we could tell, and didn't stop to get his story. But we'd heard of more that one person walking and camping cross-country using a shopping cart. Still it's a little jarring when you actually encounter it.
We stopped at the convenience store in the little town of Hope for coffee and a prepackaged roll, eaten standing in the corner with an chest freezer for a table. The sign leaving town indicated that we were now beyond Hope.
Four miles west of Hope (beyond Hope, if you must) we passed a restaurant that addendums to our maps said was closed. It had. But just a half mile further was the Dos Amigos restaurant that was open and advertising Mexican and American breakfasts. We still had an impending climb into Brenda and onto I -10, so we stopped for a more substantial breakfast.
We had just ordered and started a conversation with the other customer seated behind us, a contract self-taught mechanical engineer from Wyoming who prospects gold and gems when he's not building geothermal turbines, when a familiar face arrived, our young friend Jake.
We had expected Jake was already in California, but he'd been shopping for turquoise and was delayed. Jake joined us for breakfast and then we enjoyed a pleasant morning cycling into Quartzsite together.
On the way, we met another east-bound cyclist, and knowing what Andy had said immediately began hailing him, asking if he were Graham. Oops, wrong cyclist. Mark, from Birmingham England started five days ago in San Diego. He'd run into warm weather crossing the California mountains, and was much hoping for cooler weather.
We wished Mark well and he was on his way. Later Barb snapped one more photo of Jake and I. The thin, attractive young man with the full auburn beard isn't me.
We reached Brenda, but still needed to climb further to reach the pass on I-10. I was running a little short of water, so I stopped at the store and picked up a quart of cold Gatorade. Rather than finding room for it in my panniers, I tucked It under the elastic cargo net I have strapped to my rear rack. Then we were off climbing again.
The descent wasn't overly steep, so we were able to coast without serious braking at 16 to 18 mph. It was glorius. We went under an overpass and on the other side I could see we were rapidly approaching a rather sharp bump in the asphalt. I called out "Bump" to alert the others and lifted myself out of the saddle to reduce the jarring effect. As I went over the bump I heard a clunk, then watched as my newly purchased Gatorade rolled across both lanes of 70 mph traffic and over the far shoulder and into the median. So long Gatorade.
The remaining descent into Quartzsite was uneventful. As we pulled off the interstate to head through town there was a sign "Book Oasis 1/4 mile ahead". Knowing that Barb's been trying to get a new paperback for a few days, I suggested we pull off and look, and soon were stopped in front of a used book store that appeared perfectly mundane. That's when the 60ish proprietor stepped through the front door to greet us. He was comfortably attired in absolutely nothing, save for a knitted black cod piece that covered, but hardly hid, his genitals. Modesty, one supposes. Then he retired back to his stacks. Barb invited me to choose a book for her, but not knowing her literary taste I politely declined. Fortunately, she was able to find something adequate on the 'Free' table outside the store, and we were soon on our way. Paul, we later learned, is well known in the area and is happy to pose for photos with visitors. My blog is G-rated and you'll have to check the Internet for his photos independently.
One of our warmshowers hosts suggested that we check the Quartzsite Yacht Club for accommodations. So while we stopped at a convenience store, Barb called and learned the rooms were very reasonable. So we finished our sodas, and began riding towards the Yacht Club .
That's when we ran into Graham. He's an older gentleman who's been touring on his bicycle and limited budget since April, first cross-country east-to-west, and now back in the other direction. He declined lodging at the Yacht Club, or eating at their restaurant, but happily went on his way seeking camping and groceries. You can tour in many styles.
We made it to the Yacht Club and said goodbye again to Jake. This time probably the last on this tour. There's a Halloween party in San Diego he's trying to attend and has some serious riding in the next few days.
The Yacht Club is one of those quirky places, that seems to have found its niche in an equally quirky town. Their motto "Long time no sea" is prominently displayed. Their rooms are mostly converted mobile home trailers in a variety of configurations, though they do have a few permenantly dry docked yachts that are available for rent.
The associated bar and grill has a nautical decor, and fish and chips is a featured menu item.
We're resting comfortably in the USS Constitution, our room for the night. It's been an interesting day.
We have 250 miles to go.
You didn't chase the Gatorade?
ReplyDelete