Day 14: Thatcher to Oak Flat Campground

March 5, 2024

Fort Thomas: “Established to keep Geronimo’s tribesmen from their farmlands.”

A dreaded tire bubble from a ripped bead

A Freeport-McMoran Copper mine along with one of only two smelters in the state of Arizona.

Oak Flag Campground with ceremonial wigwam and teepee in the distance. It doesn’t appear that the National Forest’s 14-day limit applies to the locals.

After a solid sleep in a bed, we were ready for an early wake up call at 5:15am for a big day of miles and the anticipated steep climb up to our campsite. Hotel breakfast began at 5:45am for us and I watched Jude eat 4 plates of food plus 3 yogurts. We wouldn’t need to snack until lunch! We had some gradual downhill miles to begin the day and that allowed our legs to warm up. Nearly every morning we start around 40 degrees, but this morning felt colder and our extremities stayed cold until just before lunch. At breakfast, Jude also read the wind speed and direction to me from his phone: 3-6 mph. Really? Are you sure?!? That’s not 30-60mph??? Hooray, a non-windy day! The forecast would prevail and the wind was (finally) not a factor today.

We continued to gradually descend the Gila River Valley along irrigated fields, finally crossing the Gila River and climbing up into an alluvial fan. This also marked our entry into the San Carlos Apache Reservation which we would traverse for the next 30 miles. This area was home to Geronimo’s Chiricahua Apaches in the late 1800’s. We passed the town of Fort Thomas. A sign literally said that the fort was built to keep the Apache’s from their farmlands. Starve the men, women and children into submission and conformity - a sound government policy. I know there were and are a myriad of factors that went into the conflicts between the original inhabitants and the new inhabitants, and so during our road trips as a family, I’ve been very interested to learn some of the history of the land, not just of my ancestors, but of the people who inhabited the land before my ancestors. Even in our own town of Wheaton, IL, there were settlements of indigenous tribes along the DuPage River. Early settlers witnessed how they would burn part of the Churchill Prairie, stand at the opposite end and shoot the various animals that fled the flames - ingenious! I’ve read a couple very good books by David Treuer, a descendant of the Leech Lake Ojibwe people (The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee and Rez Life) which give both a brief historical perspective and a more current view into reservation life. I also more recently read An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States which I thought was well written and researched and gave a much broader historical context. While the history is interesting to me, I also think it’s even more important to know more about the land, people and cultures that I pass through.

Jude said of all the reservations he has been through on his trip, this appeared to be the most poor. Gas stations were very intermittent and bathrooms were not open to the public. Graffiti was prevalent and many doors, windows and windshields were shattered and not replaced. There was even a list of names who were banned from entering a convenience store. But most folks were friendly and would wave from their yards and some would ask us about our journey. Basketball is big here, too, and every gas station had several prominent trophies, roadsides were full of pictures, encouraging signs and even billboards of state teams. Reservation dogs are also street-wise, roaming free in happy packs and never barked or chased us, unlike every other dog that passed over the last few days.

This day was once again marred by three flats. We’re constantly checking our tires for pieces of wire, glass, etc. and staying off the shoulder if possible. Before lunch I felt a bumpiness in my back tire and stopped to inspect. It appeared that one of the top layers of my tire had torn and allowed air to get into it, creating a large bubble along with several smaller ones. A popped tube is an easy replacement or patch, but we only carried one extra tire and this would leave us with no replacements. Grateful that we even had an extra tire, we replaced it and headed down the road. One more flat tire for each of us had us worried but also grateful that another Walmart was just 6 miles away. After two quick changes (we’re getting better at this!) we stocked up on fresh tubes and began our final ascent. Passing through the towns of Globe and Top-of-the-World, we knew we had passed firmly into copper country. Just about every hillside was marked by strip mines, copper smelters and tailing ponds. The traffic, too, was all mine-related with many semi’s and pickups carrying copper cathodes, all wearing distinct orange flags marked with white X’s on long poles so that the huge mining trucks could see them when they entered the mines.

We made the final 14 mile ascent to our campsite while fighting for space on a highway that twisted and turned through a route blasted right through the rocky landscape. When we reached the top, we didn’t find a pass looking down the other side, but a wide open space called Oak Flat, a beautiful oasis in the mountains. A mine was in operation nearby, but this is still sacred land to the Apache’s who still gather to perform ceremonies here throughout the year.

As we ate our dinner and climbed some rocks to watch the sunset, get some cell reception and call home, we both said that we didn’t feel overly tired or exhausted but, with all that we had passed through and witnessed, we felt that the day was long.

One scene that we had witnessed occurred at mile 60 where we stopped at the Apache Casino for bathrooms and lunch outside on the benches. Everyone was very kind and the staff didn’t mind us using their facilities. In the bench opposite us, there was a couple who had obviously had too much to drink and had just been removed from the casino. Security was with them while they waited for their ride home. While we ate lunch, the woman spouted off many profanities about the injustice of it all: that if they were white they wouldn’t have been treated this way, even though it appeared that the staff were all indigenous as well (besides the casino manager who stayed out of the way and didn’t take their bait when they started talking about him when he walked by). While her behavior was certainly unacceptable, it is always interesting to hear someone’s unfiltered thoughts, even if inebriated. And in a broader and more general sense, I agree with her that there is injustice in this world; people aren’t treated fairly; the strong and powerful get their way more often than not; and this woman is on the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak, the least powerful and the most easily pushed aside. What is she to do in the life that she has been given? What am I to do in the situation in life that I have been given?

I pondered this as Jude and I began our ascent to the town of Globe, then to Top-of-the-World and finally the sacred grounds of the Apache people: Oak Flat Campground. As we climbed at a mere 6 mph along the highway with blind corners, rock falls, no shoulder and cars and trucks of employees from the local mine that had just let out, we found ourselves in a similar position as the woman at the casino: the least powerful on the road and the most easily pushed aside. To put it more directly: given the choice to move over for us and risk a head on collision with a car in the other lane, or plow into us on our bikes, we know what decisions drivers would make, and slowing down and waiting for a safe time to pass was never an option for these drivers! I rode in back, Jude was up front, I spotted for traffic and waved them into the opposite lane when we didn’t have a shoulder or waved at them to slow down and wait for a safe time to pass. Literally no one slowed down, most veered at the last second, many honked angrily and barreled right through within feet or oftentimes inches. Was I indignant? Angry at the injustice that cyclists are invisible and drivers would more quickly move to avoid a dog than a cyclist? You bet! Did I have a right to complain? I felt so. So what should I do in my position? Nothing, I had no recourse, I could only complain, lick my wounds, squeeze ever closer to the guardrail or the rock face and pray that I would make it through alive.

As we lay in our tent after a beautiful sunset, happy to be alive, I read Psalm 73, which is such a good reminder for those facing injustice, when “our feet have almost stumbled” and we feel like the powerful, the arrogant and even the wicked prosper. The antidote? The Psalmist says there’s only one: go to God. “When I thought how to understand this [injustice], it seemed to me a wearisome task . . . until I went into the sanctuary of the God, then I discerned their end.” Only God can hold love and truth perfectly in His hand. Only God can bring justice and grant mercy at the same time perfectly. Only God can bring peace to our hearts, even if our circumstances don’t change. “But as for me, it is good to be near God, I have made the Lord God my refuge that I may tell of all your works.”

Another full day with tired legs and happy hearts. Jude ended the day with a prayer - a prayer of gratitude for safety despite the traffic and thankfulness for being up in the mountains, enjoying the views. Despite all that he could have complained about, he was grateful that we were alive and literally on top of the world.

Today's ride: 96 miles (154 km)
Total: 1,051 miles (1,691 km)

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