Today was about as weird a riding day as one might face. Our fearless leader, Paula, gathered her flock promptly at 7:00 as the both the sun and spirits were rising. After perusing her sturdy lot, all covered from head to toe in anything to be found, she proclaimed us fit to proceed and wished us well. The weather held until just before reaching the end of the motel parking lot. It was 34, I think, so what came down was mostly sleet and those little snow balls that go clunk against you helmet. At the risk of sounding a whiner, it got a bit tough at times. Note, it is possible to ride a road bike in slush: not recommended, but possible.

The only good thing happening was a 20 mph tailwind climbing higher as the day progressed. This allowed us to get out in front of the storm until the next flat change. So it was cruise at 30, go flat, get hammered by storm, lather, rinse and repeat. The amazing thing was an average speed (just bike time, not flat time) of 20.6 mph. Which meant we covered 93.5 miles in 4:32. So now that I am warm in my room, I can confidently say, it could have been worse.

Now for the moment you have all been waiting for. Despite the storm, we took the time to stand on a corner in Winslow Arizona.

Thank you for riding along.

We are in the midst of out first rest day. Knowing this, I awoke at 4:45, and knew it would be no use trying to get back to sleep. What I learned; there is no wait for the motel washing machine at 5:15 A.M. Yesterday I mentioned it might snow. Well, it did spit a few flakes, but we are now at a not so balmy 42, with a steady rain and gusty winds. Tomorrow promises low 40s with snow showers at 7, and rain continuing through the day, without much rise in the temps. A trip to REI was made by all. I now have Gore-Tex gloves, a warm head band and a reluctant acceptance that it is, what it is. So to make the most of the afternoon, many are in the motel lobby taking advantage of the amenities.

America is truly a study in contrasts. This fact is one of the reasons I chose to make this trip. But from the be careful what you wish for vault, I did not count on contrasting 106 degrees with 36, within a week’s time. Tomorrow we start out getting our kicks on Rt. 66, to coin a phrase. This is now a path less taken and I am looking forward to a slower paced view of our country fading past.

Tomorrow is Monday, so it’s a work day, and I am as ready to work as I can be. I will leave you with a last picture taken by Charlie somewhere out on I-10. Thank you for riding along.

Leaving Cottonwood behind, we traversed the valley toward Flagstaff. In our way was the town of Sedona. This picturesque valley can be thought of as a cathedral to Red Rock, or as the Gatlinburg of the West. These definitions need not be mutually exclusive. Undoubtedly, it is one of countries great treasures. We stopped at a little coffee shop perched on the side of a hill with a view to the west. The shop’s unique view competed only with its mascot, pictured below.

From Sedona, we started our climb. There has been much discussion among the riders as to what constitutes a climb vs. a mere hill. According to Howard, our obligatory Brit, we are just “popping on amongst the hills,” while it is my belief if a man spends more than an hour, continuously in his lowest gear, he is doing a climb. In the world according to Greg, today was a climb. All in, we gained 5,093 ft. in 47 miles. A significant portion of which came in the 7 miles of switchbacks taking us to just over 6,400 ft.

At this altitude, we reached our Sag which was perched at a scenic turn off. We spent a good deal of time here in self-congratulation and carbo reloading. We took in the views as well. What I learned on the way; steep, up to 9 degrees steep, narrow roads with no shoulder are not a good mix for cars and bikes. Especially when both the pedalers and the drivers are gawking at the scenery. Which was worth a good gawk.

From our Sag we were left with 9 miles and 700 ft. of rolling terrain into Flagstaff. I am not going to get into the definition of rollers here but, suffice it to say, these were dandies. Our hardy band arrived at their appointed motel, and well appointed it is, early, so we soaked our faces in the sun and our feet in the hot tub, until the rooms were ready. What else I learned is that on the road, life can be so sweet. Tomorrow is our first rest day and it is supposed to snow. Thank you for riding along.

Six days and 494 miles under the saddle. No, I won’t do the rest of the math yet, but you may if you wish. I will start by saying that it was a great day. The early finish yesterday, and a relaxing evening in Prescott did this boy a world of good. We didn’t start until 7:30, but the temperature was still just 37. No, I am not complaining. I will, just not right now. The peddle today was mostly just a climb of 2,830 feet up Mingus Mountain. In 6 miles, we gained most of that altitude. However, we were climbing into pine trees, jagged rocks and the deep blue of thin air. And I thrive on thin air. The route switch-backed with little traffic, save a small contingent on Kawasaki crotch rockets, that roared up and down, and up and down, even faster than me. Thankfully this crew stayed low on the mountain so peace and calm followed us to the top. At 7,185 feet, we paused for a long SAG and breathtaking views offered up by the top of Mingus Mountain. One rather off-beat offering was Sir Sampson, and his humans enjoying a morning ride.

We now faced 4,851 feet of descent to get us into Cottonwood. It was steep, cold and oh, so exhilarating. So exhilarating in fact that my hands began to cramp from squeezing the brakes. The only time I took my hands off the bars and my eyes off the road was at rest overlooking the valley below.

Half way down the mountain is the town of Jerome. This hamlet was built to support the Gold King Copper Mine until the ore played out. Now it is a funky little tourist stop built entirely into the side of a very steep mountain. Our destination was the Haunted Hamburger. This restaurant is at the highest point in town with a moderately priced burger and a million dollar view.

From Jerome, we went down an even steeper stretch of even windier road coasting, and braking, all the way into Cottonwood. Once again we arrived with some extra time. I used mine for laundry. I felt strong for the first time since dipping my wheel in the Pacific. But, I am not nearly as cocky. Tomorrow is only 47 miles but we have to regain all of the real estate we lost today. In the last 12 miles, we climb 3,864 feet into Flagstaff. Tune in tomorrow and I’ll let you know how it went. Thank you for riding along.

Today started with cool air, weak knees and a sore butt. I focused on the cooler air. The first 20 miles out of Wichenburg were easy rolling two-lane which was just what was needed. The whole team was really beat, but I am sure that no one was more tired, sore or grumpy than me. At mile 19, we faced our first climb. We were to gain 3,400 ft. in about 15 miles. It was very slow going, but the air was cool and I will trade a steep grade for cool air on any day. This was a pretty steady 5 to 7 degree climb, with no real breaks. Did I mention it was slow? As I passed Tom, our logistics guy who was cheering us on, he said, “only 5.4 miles to the top.” I looked down at my speed and replied, ” I will see you at the top in exactly 1 hour.” Do the math.

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We had a SAG in Yarnell which is exactly what you would expect a town called Yarnell to look like. But, when we left we had a screaming downhill that went on for miles. While nobody hit 50 mph, it wasn’t because Peyton wasn’t trying. We are now in the Arizona high country and peddled past beautiful and vast ranches that appeared to have rolled out of an old western. We wound up at the Country Corner store which was at the base of our final climb of the day, which we hoped, would end in Prescott. Yes, I did have an ice cream bar.

We started climbing once again and I finally found some umph. I am guessing it was the ice cream bar. While this climb topped out at 6,100 ft., it really wasn’t too bad. This is because it was actually a series of tough ups and rockin’ downs that made it all worthwhile. Something about seeing a yellow road sign with the arrow stating 20 mph and looking down and noticing you are doing 27. Life’s a Blast! After topping 6,100, we started another wonderfully steep decent through pine trees and rushed into the city of Prescott. And what a cool little town. A 60 mile day with time for a cold beer after the ride. It was even better than the ice cream. Tomorrow should be another fairly easy day. It’s only 44 miles, which is the shortest day on the ride and with only one climb of 1,200 ft. Thank you for riding along.

We started at 7 AM, not remotely recovered from yesterday. But we were only 4 miles from our first state line which we climbed into right out of the blocks.

The road was a mess and we as a group had 8 flats in the first 7 miles. This is what changing a flat looks like on I-10.

Honestly, we were 10 hours and 12 minutes from motel to motel and I am completely worn out. Tom and I both got the 115 done. It was cooler, 104 was the highest we recorded. But this cool front brought a wind shift from the south. Western Arizona is desolate and beautiful, but I am ready for some green. Tomorrow we start to climb. I will leave you with a dust devil and a saguaro cactus. Thanks for giving me your time and good night.

Wow, the boy has hit the desert! And the desert hit back! Call it a draw. Apprehension oozed through the small band of riders this morning as CamelBaks were adjusted and cleats clicked into peddles. The ride started at 7:00 with a 28 mile climb at a fairly steady 5% grade. This took us to Chiriaco Summit and our first SAG. As you can see from the picture below of my riding partner: so far, so good.

Did I mention that the ride today, all 97 miles of it, was on I-10? Yes, a 4 lane, 70 mph, divided highway. In reality, the terror of trucks passing at 85, remember the speed limit is 70 so, you know, waned after the first 30 minutes or so. This was due to the climb and later, but not much, the heat. By 11:30 we hit our second SAG at a place called Desert Center. More aptly named Deserted Center. By this time people were reporting temperatures on their bikes from 104 to an outlier of 129. It was getting pretty tough.

Somewhere after the second SAG I found my first piece of steel wire, which scatters when truck tires explode. It litters the shoulder and is very good at worming its way into bicycle tires. But we made it to SAG three at 78 miles, took a rest and pushed ourselves on, well, because that is what you do.

Not long after this I slammed into a hole in the pavement for flat #2, followed a few minutes later by #3. Here a big thank you is due to Peyton, our 22 year old bike mechanic/stud, who rides around looking to help people like me, who have run out of tubes. And since it was 106, with no shade anywhere and we were on the side of the interstate, to expedite the process, he changed the tires.

Tom and I are making it so far. The desert truly is breathtaking, literally and figuratively. Tomorrow is the biggest day of the ride. We will leave the California desert for the Arizona desert and hopefully peddle the entire 115 miles. Thank you for riding along. I am going to bed.

Morning in Riverside dawned cool with a fine mist hanging in the air. Yes, a great morning for a bike ride. We started with a climb that, at the time, seemed pretty hard. Today I learned that relativity pretty much defines, pretty hard. The other thing I learned is that the bike lane in front of an elementary school at 7:30 is reserved for mothers, running late, dropping off their kids. Respect this rule. After our first SAG stop, which is pictured below, we started what would become a real climb. At least that is what the boys from southwest Ohio called it.

At about 50 miles we dropped onto a front road paralleling I-10. This is a fabulous stretch of the Central Valley and the surrounding terrain is covered by row after row of windmills. We found the reason is a constant 30 mph westerly wind that was the most amazing and welcome meteorological phenomenon so far. While I have been known to enhance a story or two, I am not lying when I say that at one point, I was cruising comfortably at 32 mph, without a single pedal stroke. This pushed us into Palm Springs at high noon, where the thermometer read 104. Now this was in the sun, but only because there is no shade. We all made the 98 mile ride and I am looking forward to tomorrow, since it is only 97 miles. Thank you for your time.

At 8 AM Pacific time, I dipped my rear wheel into the cold water of the Pacific. Note: standing with your back to the surf, likely results in a wave breaking larger than expected. From there, we peddled east through LA streets with the goal of reaching Riverside CA, 79 miles distant. It was overcast and cool with a following breeze for the first 40 miles. It warmed in the afternoon, but was still a gorgeous day for a bike ride. The final 10 miles was smooth and shaded with a bike lane to cap-off the day. My only apparent mistake was not eating enough. Which, you can readily tell, has never been a problem before. Tomorrow, we travel 97 miles with temperatures promising to be 97 as well. It’s what I signed up for.

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This is a shout-out to Dick Church. He is the longest serving mayor of Miamisburg, Ohio, and is retiring on Dec. 31st. Dick is a dapper guy with a penchant for bowties. So in recognition of this, the powers that be have proclaimed 2019 the year of the bowtie. Miamisburg is my hometown and so to celebrate the start of my journey, I donned my tie this morning. Thanks for the indulgence, thank you Dick and thank you readers for riding along.