KOFA NATIONAL WILDLIFE REFUGE: Where I Contemplated "Aloneness"
I am on a mission to find some desert wildlife other than birds. To demonstrate just how seriously I take this mission, I am going to ride into the wilderness of the KOFA National Wildlife Refuge. I like birds, trust me, but I want to see some mammals, and I've read that the KOFA N.W.R. has some desert bighorn sheep wandering around in the mountains. That sounds like another "sure thing" to me.
Sure enough, before I even reached my turn-off, I saw this sign, which pretty much guaranteed I'd be seeing some animals. Hell YEAH I'll be watching!
The road into the wilderness was alternately gravelly, rocky, sandy and washboardy, but always rough. It will all be worth it when I see herds of bighorns and maybe big mountain lions hunting them down.
Indeed it was a rough road. Not quite like riding three continuous miles of rumblestrip, but pretty close. A couple of times I bumped right up off of my saddle. After about three miles I could see that I wouldn't be able to ride all the way up into the heart of the mountains. I needed expedition tires for that, not 700 X 37 road tires.
I decided to get off The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong and cautiously walk it into the wide open desert. I liked hiking on the desert floor among the exotic plant life. Once I got about a mile from the road I started looking for a suitable campsite. Actually, almost the entire desert is a suitable campsite, but I was looking for a specific type of setting. Eventually I found that setting.
I'm gambling that the saguaros will protect me from getting gored by the horns of a bighorn sheep, getting mauled by a mountain lion, or being abducted by an alien being.
It was time for another hike. The rubber on my tires may not be getting much wear and tear, but the rubber on my hiking shoes is. I wanted to get closer to the KOFA mountain range since that's where the bighorns were most likely to be. Those mountains were so close I could almost touch them. That belief turned out to be another deception of desert distances. I bushwhacked across the desert for about a half-hour and it didn't seem like I had gotten any closer. Plus, I wasn't carrying a map and compass. When I looked back I was a little worried because I wasn't positive that I could find my campsite again. I decided, perhaps over-cautiously, to turn around. But not before I got a few more pictures of some of my favorite trees.
If the Joshua Tree is the unofficial symbol of the Mojave Desert, then the saguaro is definitely the unofficial symbol of the Sonoran Desert. This area is in the transition zone between the two deserts.
So here I am again, back at my campsite, sitting all alone and writing in my notebook. I don't mind. I LIKE spending time with myself, but I also like meeting interesting strangers--especially bike touring strangers. I have to wonder why I rarely run into them. I know part of the reason is that I haven't been riding the most popular bike routes lately. In addition, I'm not very outgoing. Perhaps other cyclists can sense that when I just wave at them rather than cross the road to have a chat. But really, I think the biggest problem might be that guy over there:
"What? Are you referring to me? Get over yourself. Everybody knows I am the handsomest, smartest, and most charismatic half of our team."
"Yeah, I'm referring to you. Sure you're a cute cartoon character, but other people want nothing to do with us because they don't want to put up with your smart-ass comments."
Let's get back to the topic. Remember? The subject of "aloneness"--which is a much different thing than loneliness. I've experienced homesickness on previous tours. I start missing my wife and family. I start missing my dog. That hasn't happened to me this year because I know I'll be seeing them in less than three weeks. But simply being alone has never bothered me. I like it. I like ME.
Nevertheless, I have decided that I am going to stray from my original plan to head south from here and then work my way east to Tucson. Instead, I'm going to go back to Quartzite and then ride a segment of the Adventure Cycling Association's very popular "Southern Tier" route. It's almost another one of my sure bets that I'll run into some other bike travelers. A little human interaction might be a good thing.
After all that deep thinking, it's time to unwind.
I think I've earned a nice, refreshing, warm beer in the shade of my favorite tree.
