In Benson: Cascabel Road

January 27, 2020

There were a few hiccups, but our plan to take the train to Benson came off successfully. I wasn’t so sure though last night, when I realized I didn’t remember where I’d put the train tickets. I was starting to feel panicked when I finally unearthed them.

This morning we packed up, left our suitcases behind and biked off in the pre-dawn for breakfast at Melvins Market, the cafe next to the Amtrak station. An hour later the train pulled in and we headed next door to prepare for boarding. We had plenty of time - this is the meal stop, and the train is in station for an hour.

The agent took our tickets, looked approvingly at our folded bicycles, and pointed to our car. No problem. With them folded up and secured with a strap so they’re easy to handle, they weren’t difficult to board the train with and just fit into the largest slot of the baggage space at the end of the car.

No problem, as long as there’s an empty slot available.

Looks like we have the train to ourselves this morning, but Tucson is the meal stop and everyone is indoors at the cafe. Works well for loading the bikes - plenty of time to shuffle everything around.

An hour later we arrive in Benson, right on time. It’s the briefest of stops, the train only staying in the station long enough for passengers to exit and enter the train. We hustle, unloading our panniers and then our bikes one at a time while the boarding passengers wait for us to get out of the way.

Once we’re off, Rachael reaches for her glasses, realizes they are missing and dashes back onto the train. After searching around in a panic without success, fortunately another passenger spots them. A narrow escape from what would definitely count as an adversity!

I assemble the bikes and start preparing for us to ride off while Rachael walks over to a store to get sandwiches for lunch. Then, it’s my turn to panic. I can’t find the camera. I look everywhere, empty out both panniers, rummage the rucksack. Nowhere. I must have stuffed it in the seat pouch after unloading a few pictures, and then forgot it. I feel really sick, a bit like crying.

Then I find it. Everything’s fine, let’s ride!

The current Benson Amtrak stop offers limited services: two benches and a bit of shelter from the elements. There’s the historical depot a few hundred yards further east, but the train doesn’t stop there any more.

It’s only about eleven when leave the ‘station’, so we have time for a normal ride. The plan for the day is to ride north on Cascabel Road to the end of the pavement 22 miles away and then back to town again. Possibly we won’t make it to the the end though - Rachael still isn’t fully over her cold, and it’s quite windy in Benson. It’s a west wind so hopefully it won’t be too bad biking north/south, but we’ll see.

The first few miles of the road are through the outskirts of Benson and then through Pomerene, a tiny community (Wikipedia describes it as ‘a populated place’, which seems a bit dismissive). It’s open, a bit dusty, and Rachael steams through it. I keep getting held up by Pomerene’s interesting collection of attractive junk though, so I soon fall well behind. I won’t see her again for nearly two hours, after she’s turned the corner and headed back.

Heading north from Benson on Cascabel Road. The plan is to bike to pavement’s end and then return. One will make it that far, one won’t.

In Pomerene, an unincorporated community just north of Benson. A place of many attractions.

Pomerene (population 140) is large enough to support an elementary school. It appears to be in session.

An old Dodge pickup with an interesting load, Pomerene.

So is this a functional contraption, or a work of art?

Another curious construction in Pomerene. Those wheels must be at least six feet in diameter.

A low pitched wind chime, Pomerene. The wind is strong enough today to activate the clapper and create a very appealing deep tone.

A classy mailbox, Pomerene. See, I told you it was a community of uncommon attractions!

Beyond Pomerene, the ride just keeps improving the further we ride. It’s a low profile ride, but it does include a several hundred foot climb to a low divide over the ridge north of town, and then a long, gradual descent back to the basin on the other side. It’s ranch country, and here and there I bike past horses, sheep, goats, and exactly one cow, standing alone on the shoulder of the road.

The scenery is quietly dramatic, with the Rincon Mountains bordering the basin to the west. It’s very quiet, save for the sound of the wind and the rare passing car. There are very few birds about, maybe sheltering from the wind. Just the strong fliers: the ravens, a red tailed hawk, and once again what I think must have been a Cooper’s hawk perched in a tree just ahead. Like yesterday, I’m just about to take his photo when he flies off down the road. No other bikers were around to blame for flushing him out this time, so I blame Trump. Not too reasonable, but somehow it makes me feel better.

Looking west to the Rincon Mountains, the range we see from the other side in Tucson.

Video sound track: Long Time Comin’, by John Hiatt

The view north on Cascabel Road, after crossing a low divide.

Still looking north on Cascabel Road. Great riding, and better the further north you go.

Another view west toward the Rincon Mountains. I’m not sure what colorful feature we’re looking at here: Mesquite Canyon maybe?

Eventually I see Rachael coming back at me and we start looking for a spot for lunch. Not much to choose from, but we find a bare patch of ground beside the road opposite a signpost we can lean the mounts against and squat down in the dust, enjoying the serenity and the views.

When we pack up to head back to town, I start to put my helmet back on and discover that the plastic strap-holding apparatus has snapped through. It started cracking a few days ago, but I didn’t pay that much attention to it. I’m due for a new brain box anyway, so I’ve been planning to just start over when we get back home in two weeks.

It’s a goner now though, and unwearable. In one of my less environmentally conscious acts I hurl it off into the sage, well out of sight. Surely it will decompose in a few thousand years, right? On the ride back to town, I’m thinking through the options here. There’s a bike store in Sierra Vista where I could get a replacement, but we’re not due there for six days. I could just bike helmetless until then, or the day after tomorrow we could bike down to Sierra Vista on a day ride from Tombstone. Neither idea is appealing, really.

Yes, Rachael. You look very fetching in that bike shirt too. A shame there’s only me out here to appreciate it.

Lunch break, looking west to the Rincon Mountains. Just the other side must be Saguaro National Park.

A tragedy: dead helmet in the road. Thank you for your service, old guy.

The view east, toward what I think are the Mae West Peaks.

Southbound, on the return to Benson, near the summit of the divide. We’ve got a nice tail wind blowing us up, but we’ll face a stiff headwind once we cross over.

Back in Benson, looking north along San Pedro River. Not much water here at the moment.

We check into our motel at about four. Rachael sets to work, does some research, and discovers that Benson has a Walmart and amazingly enough it sells bike helmets. Perfect, if it works out. She sees that it has an apparently suitable one in stock, but if not I can probably get one with a Stegosaurus fringe instead. So, we have a plan. We’ll head over to Walmart on the way out of town tomorrow and hope for the best. If that doesn’t pan out we’ll think again when we get to Tombstone tomorrow night.

For dinner we walk about a kilometer to Mi Casa, a Mexican restaurant with the best reputation of Benson’s small collection of eateries. It’s a great choice. A tiny family-run place, the restaurant is packed when we arrive and there’s a line waiting. It’s an extremely efficient place though, and they have us seated in about ten minutes and serve our orders about fifteen minutes later. And it’s delicious.

We’re out by seven, walking back to our room, and it’s cold! The wind has picked up again, the sky is clear, and the temperature is dropping fast. I imagine most of the coming nights will be like this. Almost everywhere else on the itinerary is at a higher elevation than Benson.

A great little place for a meal in Benson. Stop in the next time you pass through.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 45 miles, 1,700’; for the tour: 1,386 miles, 68,900’

Today's ride: 45 miles (72 km)
Total: 1,386 miles (2,231 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	5

Jen RahnI hope you get the Stegosaurus fringe helmet!

Did you really leave your old one out in the desert to be eaten by creatures who mistake it for a tasty ostrich egg?
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4 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Jen RahnYes, and I feel bad about it. A weak moment, but maybe the birds can make a nest out of it. Probably we should bike back and retrieve it along with that rusty bicycle for you, but we’re booked for hotels in the other direction.
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4 years ago

Tricia GrahamTo Scott AndersonI have been reading the 1991 journal you wrote of your tour of NZ what a lot of changes Your mode of travel is so different then you now seem so less interested in the distance you travel, your photos while good then are so much better and now you travel in so much more comfort. For me it was alittle like time travel NZ has really changed considerably though some of the things you point out as oddities seem perfectly normal to me. You should visit the country again and you could always use our place as a base.
Keep safe
Tricia
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4 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Tricia GrahamYou’re right, we do travel differently now. It’s nice having more time and resources than we did then, and perhaps it’s nice that being older encourages one to slow down and look around more.

NZ is on the table, actually. We’ve been talking about when the right year would be to come down again and see what 30 years has done to the place. We’re likely to either come there this year or to Australia, depending on the state of the world.

Thanks for the offer of using your place as a base. I’ve forgotten - what part of the country do you live in? And if our election goes badly this autumn, how would you feel about adopting us?
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4 years ago

Tricia GrahamTo Scott AndersonWe like nearly everyone in this country are hoping the election this year goes well for you
We live in the country about a 40 minute drive from Auckland airport , where you would most likely arrive and a similar distance from Auckland city . If you are thinking of travelling in NZ a good time to avoid is from just before Xmas t about mid Jan as it is summer holidays and the place goes mad.
Tricia
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4 years ago