To Indio

December 27, 2015

Through the Borrego Badlands

We had a long ride ahead of us today so we got as early a start as possible, checking out of our room a bit before 7. Four miles later, sitting down to breakfast in Kendall's Cafe in the town center, Rachael reminded me to reinstall her mirror the town center. Too late. Somehow we failed to pack it when we left the room - it must have gotten knocked onto the floor or something, and neither of us spotted it in our final room check before we left. That is so sad, after having just found it on the road yesterday. It wasn't something we wanted to bike back to the room for though - the day is already a bit long as it is.

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Biking to an early breakfast in Borrego Springs

Indian Head towers above Borrego Springs from the west

Full up on omelets and coffee, we pedaled east out of town, bound for the Salton Sea. We had perfect weather - cloudless, cool, almost windless. We are so lucky to be traveling today rather than yesterday with its fierce winds.

The first dozen miles or so climb almost imperceptibly, rising about 500 feet to a saddle at the southern tip of the Santa Rosa Mountains. It's a beautiful ride - quiet, carfree, scenic, huge vistas. I'm a bit wistful stopping at the back for a last look back at the town before we cross over the top - I hope we can come back for another pass through some year.

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Riding east toward the Santa Rosa Mountains

A last look back at distant Borrego Springs, the green streak beneath the mountains

Shortly after crossing the divide we get our first glimpse of the Salton Sea, a sapphire sliver far ahead of us. The country around us though is more arresting - the Borrego Badlands. This is another unexpected surprise for the trip, that I didn't know of before passing through them. For several miles we pass through a wildly eroded landscape of deep, ragged arroyos and washes, stopping over and over again to look over the edge at ones crossing under the road.

If I'm understanding the geologic history correctly, this area was all under water and part of the Gulf of Mexico and the land here is largely mud deposits from the bottom of the sea. It gives a different perspective to the country we're passing through, envisioning everything as far as the ranges far to the east Submerged beneath a vast sea.

At the high point on Borrego Salton Seaway we started seeing some color in the desert vegetation.

The blue slice on the horizon was our first view of the Salton Sea.

One of the countless arroyos and washes in the Borrego Badlands

Eventually we dropped through this zone to sea level, leaving us only a few hundred more feet to drop before reaching the sea, which sits currently at about -220. Before getting there though, we first cycle across the worst excuse for a paved road that either of us can recall. With a surface like conglomerate, it is bone jarring to bike across - it reminds me of the notorious stretches of cobbles that the Tour de France torments its riders with some years. About the time we can't stand it any more, we come to a sign that crushes us both at first: 'rough road next 15 miles'. Oh, wait - that's 1.5 miles, and actually the surface is much better. It is like the sign is facing the wrong direction.

This primed us mentally for the straight, busy and rather monotonous ride north along highway 86. Who cares about all the traffic if the road is so wonderfully smooth?

A few miles of this terrible road surface were more than enough.

Both of us groaned when we saw this sign, until we spotted the decimal point.

Highway 86 is much busier than this photo suggests, but with a smooth shoulder like this we didn't really mind the traffic.

We pulled of the road for a lunch stop at Desert Shores, an eerie wreck of a place. Almost everything is broken down or abandoned except for a mobile home park, what looks like was once a school is completely dilapidated, there's junk everywhere. We sat on a rise above a channel to the lake, sitting on a mound of barnacle sand, surrounded by skeletons of small fish. It's almost impossible to imagine that fifty years ago this was a famous fishing resort.

Desert Sands does have one thing to recommend it though, other than its eeriness - a fantastic and unsettling mural painted on the wall of the town market: Shesha Sand Storm, painted in 2013 by moralists Christina Angelina and Fin Dac. I haven't been able to find any explanation for its curious name.

'Shesha Sand Storm', the astonishing mural on the side of the Desert Shores Market

The four armed seductress of Desert Shores

The old swimming hole, Desert Shores. Looks like an industrial waste site.

Pelicans and cormorants galore, Salton Sea

Today's ride: 72 miles (116 km)
Total: 243 miles (391 km)

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