Daily Miles: 58.16
Total Miles: 2996
Avg: 12.8
Max: 30.9
Time on the bike: 04:30:41
I slept well and was riding by 7:00. The sun was right behind me and my shadow was cast long over the pavement in front of me. The wind seemed to be at my back and this was a good thing.
The first 30 miles went fast and I soon found myself in Quartzite, a small town off interstate 10. I had about 12 miles of riding on the actual interstate again to get there, and it was mostly a fine enough ride. The shoulders are very wide and thus cars can safely pass while staying in thier lane. Riding on the interstate is actually quite a bit safer than some of the other atrocious roads I’ve had to ride on.
Quartzite was your typical freeway exit town. It had about 5 different fast food restaurants and about 3 gas stations. It was a busy hub for truckers and RVers and motorcycle gangs. I wasn’t going far today so I stopped for coffee at McDonalds. It was a busy place. People from the highway came in like droves to order Big Macs and McChickens and Fish Filet sandwiches too numerous to count.
When I came out from McDonalds I noticed my rear tire had lost air. What now? I thought. I rode a little further down the road and then took the wheel off. I inspected everything and couldn’t find a hole in the tube or any debris in the tire. It was a mystery and it was making me upset. I put everything back together and started riding again and for the rest of the day the tire seemed fine.
I’m staying at a Warm Showers host tonight. His name is Wayne and he owns a bait and tackle shop 3 miles north of Blythe, CA. He lets cyclists pitch thier tent in the back yard or in his pool table room. I opted for the pool table room since it is enclosed and thusly less likely to have moisture issues tommorrow morning. Always thinking ahead.
Lots of people come to the shop not to fish but to buy beer and sit and drink outside. Wayne lets cyclist have one free beer and something to eat. I chose a frozen pizza. I sat out on the patio drinking my beer and getting to know three colorful locals while my pizza was cooking.
“Bob always used to say, ‘Women are good for two things: fucking and frying meat!'”
Three men with enormous beer bellys burst out laughing. It was a strange conversation to walk into. But I took a seat and listened on.
“Yep, Bob had that cancer,” one of the guys continued. “He had chemo and the whole bit, I remember it. When he died, the state wouldn’t let the family bury him. They said he was radioactive and would contaminate the ground!”
The three laughed again.
“Fucking Bob,” one said, shaking his head.
The men continued talking and didn’t pay much attention to me. There was a lot of foul language and laughing and it was easy to assume they had been drinking for quite some time.
Just off to my left was the canal where people fish. Mostly catfish I guess, which someone told me. The water was aquamarine and flowing south. I couldn’t see any fish swimming around and wondered if anyone really caught anything there. The canal was surrounded by green farmland, and beyond the farmland there were more mountains, looking down on the farms and the canal and all the big green farm equipment.
“I miss Bob,” the largest guy said, taking a sip of his beer. The sun hung in the west and shined on his lobster red face. He had white hair all slicked back, with large comb streaks going all the way down his scalp. “Well, time for my nap,” he said, and got up and walked away.
The other two men talked about some unfamiliar things. About the roads and the VFW. About the cops in town and how they play on thier phones all day and don’t work. They drank more beer and talked more and played some country tunes on the jukebox.
I sat and listened and ate my pizza. It was like I wasn’t really there. If my name was Bob I would have been all set.
Awesome post Thanks for sharing.