Day 4: Thursday, 11 April 2013: And I'll be damned if it did not come true

April 11, 2013

My site at Jumbo Rocks campground allowed me to hide my tent away from the road and other campers. It also proved to be the quietest spot in the park, with no noisy neighbors, no midnight arguments about how to set up a tent, and no howling wind. Good sleeping for a tired boy.

The wind departed last night, but returned with the dawn, still out of the north or northwest although probably not as strong. The morning also felt noticeably warmer, which matched the forecast I'd heard for higher temps today. No water available at Jumbo Rocks, but I'd managed my supplies as conservatively as possible on Wednesday, so I had plenty in reserve for today. That allowed me to devote some extra water to tea, brushing of teeth, and miscellaneous morning hygiene, of which I was sorely in need. Fire hose, large quantities of Boraxo, and wire bristle brush probably would have worked better. Just before I was ready to ride off, Dave—the Canadian from South Africa—walked over with a fresh bag of ice cubes for my water bottles.

When I planned my Joshua ride, the best I could come up with was an out-and-back route, riding out the same road I pedaled in. I had some concerns that might make for a boring, repetitive tour, but such proved not to be the case. Uphills became downhills. Downhills became uphills. Headwinds became tailwinds. Tailwinds became headwinds. The out-and-back route made me realize how much different the ride felt in each direction, and the views gave the impression of being completely unalike. That seemed especially true today. I'd seen all these landscapes while grinding uphill with a tailwind on Monday, but it felt quite unfamiliar when I hit the same road in the opposite direction, going downhill with a headwind.

Leaving Jumbo Rocks, I encountered a bit of a climb, but it didn't last long. Once again, I was in the heart of the park's amazingly eroded rock formations and supernatural joshua trees. The wind wasn't bad, but clouds promptly covered most of the sky, so I had to stop and put on my windbreaker. Before long I reached Sheep Pass, a bighorn migration route. Still no shoulders, but not much traffic. Drivers polite and cautious. Unlike the road across the lower desert, up here the park provides numerous paved turnouts, parking lots, interpretive signs, restrooms, etc. Restrooms are welcome when you drink extra tea with breakfast and can't quite conceal yourself behind a roadside joshua tree.

Many of the stacks, piles, and jumbles of rocks protruding above the desert floor have been given names. Besides Skull Rock, which I passed yesterday, and Jumbo Rocks, where I stayed last night, today I passed the Hall of Horrors. When I ate lunch at Cap Rock on Monday, the place was almost empty. Arriving there today, I discovered a hundred middle school kids from Marin county in the parking lot. They had just returned from a Boojum Institute backpacking expedition, and they were competing with group cheers at maximum volume before boarding buses and heading back to NorCal. I suspect most of them passed out as soon as the buses hit the road. I spent a few minutes talking with one of the Boojum leaders, but today I didn't hang out for long at Cap Rock or sing a little song for Gram.

Not long after that, I arrived at Intersection Rock and pulled over to watch a pair of climbers just starting to work their way up a chimney-like crevice. Quite a few other climbers were congregating in the parking lot and wandering in the vicinity. The Surly wisely decided not to try to ascend any of the rocky mounts.

Beyond that point, the road started to turn more and more downhill. I was in no hurry, so I took my time and paused repeatedly to nibble trail mix and snap photos. At one turnout I met a heavily pregnant woman and her rumpled husband. She slowly strolled around, minutely examining every rock and plant while rubbing her belly. The husband stood beside me with a half-dazed, half-puzzled expression. "She said," he told me softly enough so his wife couldn't hear, "she needed to visit the desert before the baby comes, so I brought her here. We're from Seattle." I guess that explained it.

After that, there was no stopping the Surly. Monday's long grind up from the town of Joshua Tree transformed into a long downhill glide back to town. I soon reached the entrance station—no sign warning of seventy MPH winds—and after that freewheeled joyfully down to the visitor center.

I stopped at the visitor center for a few minutes. An elderly gentleman with twisted legs and metal "polio crutches" strapped around his forearms hobbled painfully over to the Surly and looked the bike up and down. I could see in his eyes how much he wished he could climb aboard and sail away.

Seeing him hunched awkwardly on his crutches made me even more thankful the Surly and I can still ride—especially in beautiful places like Joshua Tree—and sail away, sail away, sail away.

Today's Conditions

Jumbo Rocks campground → Yucca Valley

Time: 8:30 - Noon

Distance: 30 miles

Climbing: Approx 722 ft

Weather: Warm; still windy

Addendum

While battling the headwind and crappy, mostly non-existent shoulder on the four-lane, high-speed Route 62 in order to get from the visitor center to my car at the motel in Yucca Valley—about six miles away—I spotted an eastbound cyclist, lightly loaded but looking very serious. It was a dangerous stretch of road (a local rider had been hit and killed there a few days earlier), so I didn't even manage to shout or wave to the rider across all the traffic.

In retrospect, however, all the evidence indicates that might very well have been Michael Kepinski, another crazyguy rider whose journal shows he was eastbound on Highway 62 in that vicinity at about that time on Thursday. Photos of Michael and his rig pretty much convince me it was him. Still trying to get confirmation via his guestbook.

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/page/index.html?page_id=321116

An overcast morning as the Surly and I leave Jumbo Rocks. According to desert botanists, right now there's a "once-in-a-lifetime" phenomenon with nearly every joshua tree in the park blooming

Sheep Pass. I pedaled up this road Monday. Seeing everything with fresh eyes as I cruise down it today.

Away off in the distance (click the photo to enlarge) a snow-capped peak rises above the desert.

The Surly and I stopped to admire the climbing area known as the "Hall of Horrors."

When I had lunch at Cap Rock on Monday, the place was nearly empty. Today, two busloads of middle school students from Marin County returning from a backpacking trip and performing group cheers in the middle of the parking lot. I didn't hang around very long.

The light speck in the middle (click the photo to enlarge) is actually a pair of climbers I watched for awhile.

Surly, joshua tree, eroded stack of rocks, and overcast sky.

This kind of scene really encapsulates Joshua Tree National Park for me. This joshua tree also shows bundles of blossoms at the end of most limbs.

Surly, joshua trees, and distant snowcap under textured sky. Beautiful landscape, beautiful day, beautiful ride.

Farther down the road, homes in the town of Joshua Tree begin to appear in the distance.

Here's the entrance station. On Monday, a sign in the window warned of 70 MPH winds. Today the flag still flapping.

Back at the Joshua Tree visitor center. Compared to Monday morning, it's sunnier, warmer, and not so windy. Hey, I'm feeling sunny, too! It's been a memorable ride through stunning terrain and fascinating desert vegetation. We won't be able to ride forever, so we ride while we can.

Today's ride: 30 miles (48 km)
Total: 109 miles (175 km)

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