a superior hot dog, top of the world diner, don and the casino

October 1, 2008

Day Ten

"The day had finally arrived, a day I'd been awaiting for ten years. A glorious day, a momentous day, a day of import and distinction.

It was time to buy a hot dog."
- Brandon Sanderson -

"Gambling: the sure way of getting nothing for something."
- Unknown -

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Arizona doesn't observe Daylight Savings Time so it gets light earlier in the morning. Of course, that doesn't matter when you wake up at 4:20. Here are some pictures taken later, at first light.

We were on the road by 5:15, pedaling straight into a mild headwind. After passing through Florence Junction (pop. 0) we began climbing.

Some pictures of the flora along the way:

We passed Dromedary Peak and Comet Peak. After 25 miles we stopped for "lunch" at a convenience store in Superior (pop. 3254). "Lunch" is in quotes because it was 8:45 in the morning.

Normally, the mere thought of eating a hot dog from a convenience store at 9 AM would elicit a clenching sensation of my stomach and bowels, accompanied by a menacing low-pitched growl threatening "Don't even think about it, buddy. You drop that shit in here and I'll get rid of it before you even get back on your bike." However, I had been up and "exercising" for almost five hours.

Besides, the hot dog was the healthiest item in the store, and the convenience store was the only place in town to buy anything to eat. It eked out a win in the competition for the “healthiest item” by surpassing the brick-colored corn dogs, which could also be used as a bludgeon. Third place was awarded to the fruit bowl, a schizophrenic confusion of color: the pineapples were the color of honeydew melons, and the honeydew melons were the color of pineapples, while the banana slices were the color of pecans, and the pecans were the color of banana slices.

It ended up being more than just tasteless calories, and was surprisingly delicious. I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, it was a ''Superior" hot dog.

As soon as we left Superior, the road became really steep. There was some construction, which was both good and bad. The road was down to one alternating lane, so there would be no cars for about five to seven minutes. That was nice, but then there would be a lot of cars for a minute or two.

looking back toward Superior from the bridge

At one point we passed through the mountain via a tunnel. I had forgotten how LOUD it is in the tunnel…the echo of even the tiniest sound, and the bone-jarring palpable waves when a vehicle is in the tunnel with you. And, of course, the white-knuckle expectation that someone will plow right into the back of you because you're invisible.

Keep Right (you know, where the invisible bicyclists are) Except To Pass

After the tunnel there were a surprising number of cars but the shoulder was wide and free of debris except for about a quarter of a mile. This short section had a blind curve to the right with a pencil-sized shoulder. As I pedaled I could reach out and touch the rock face on my right so there was literally no where to exit the road, and it ended being the most dangerous section of road on the entire Southern Tier.

Fortunately, it wasn't very long. Fortunately, I didn't die.

There are some beautiful rock formations along this part of the route.

We climbed over Signal Mountain Pass and eventually arrived in the town of Top-of-the-World (pop 231) where we stopped to take some pictures. While focusing my camera on some rock formations, I heard a gravelly voice behind me:

"You're takin' a picture of the wrong thing. You oughta be takin' a picture of that diner. It's been in five movies."

We turned around and saw an elderly gentleman pointing across the street. Without a pause, he started educating us about the diner's history.

After talking about the diner for a while he continued his history of the area by walking us down the street a little ways and showing us a plaque on the side of the road, now becoming hidden by the encroaching vegetation. It told when this 21-mile highway was built (1919-1922) and the astronomical cost to build it ($1,000,000). He remarked that a million dollars today would only pay for about a quarter mile of highway.

We learned that his name is Paul Bumpas, in his mid-80's, and a World War II veteran. When he found out that Klaus is from Frankfurt he began speaking in German. He was stationed at a German prison camp during the war and learned to speak German at that time.

We were enjoying the conversation but after 35-40 minutes we excused ourselves and left. He had a lot more to tell us, and we would've enjoyed hanging out, but we needed to put some more miles behind us.

We continued riding, and passed Bloody Tanks Wash. Of course, I wondered how it came to be named that and filled in the blanks myself with what was very likely a more interesting story than reality. Eventually, we arrived in a series of connected towns in the valley: Miami, Claypool, and Globe.

Globe (pop. 7,486) is our destination for the day. Our first order of business was to get something to eat. We stopped at Wendy's and ordered some burgers.

I collected my meal and began walking to a table. A man in his late fifties asked where we were traveling and the three of us continued the conversation at our table while we ate.

His name is Don Reynolds. Don was a triathlete for many years, and even qualified for the IronMan in Hawaii but, unfortunately, he was unable to go because of his job requirements. We talked about triathlons for a while, and by the end of the conversation I realized that I had a real interest in completing one. There were only three things preventing me competing in a triathlon: I hate swimming, I hate running, and I hate competing. Except for those three minor obstacles, I think I could really excel. Well, perhaps if I didn't have to ride very fast.

Don was in the military and in Iraq (not at the same time), and had an interesting story about how he and his wife got together. He showed us a car he restored, a skill I've always admired.

Don and his cool car, a Ford Falcon built in (I think) 1961

When we were finished with our lunch he pulled out his cell phone, called his wife and asked her a question. After he hung up he explained that he received a voucher in the mail for a free night at the nearby casino hotel for two people. Since he and his wife live in Globe, they don't really need it and asked if we were interested. We considered his offer... do we want to pay for a campsite in order to sleep on the hard, cracked ground, hopefully somewhere near a water supply, in the heat? Or do we want to sleep in an air conditioned room between clean, soft sheets? It took about 0.3 seconds for us to decide and we jumped at the offer. He drove home to get them while we started riding in the direction of the casino, planning to meet him on the edge of town.

When he brought the voucher in his very cool car, he thought it would be a good idea to check in to the hotel himself. The voucher was in his name, and that way, he could be sure there wouldn't be a problem for us at the front desk when we arrived.

We started pedaling the ten miles to the casino, visions of showers and sheets swimming in our heads. Less than one mile from the casino Don pulled over in front of us on the side of the road and explained that there were no vacancies at the hotel. He felt pretty bad about it and gave us the vouchers anyway, saying we might be able to get on a cancellation list.

As soon as I saw the hotel I realized how much I had been looking forward to spending the night in an air conditioned room.

By the time we arrived at the casino/hotel on the San Carlos Indian Reservation the temperature had climbed to three degrees above the actual temperature in hell. During the last week or so, I've regularly wondered how people lived in this area two hundred years ago. Did they find a shady spot and just sit still for ten hours a day, unmoving even to wipe away the sweat trickling into their eyes lest they burst a vessel in their brain from the activity? Was all movement done at night? Or did they just accommodate and do what needed to be done, not whining about it like me because they didn't know anything else?

Since we wouldn't be staying in the hotel, we were glad to find that there was, at least, a place to camp. We decided to talk to the people at the front desk and explain our situation, hoping, but not expecting a cancellation.

Klaus did the talking because it's more impressive to say, "I'm an exotic international bicyclist who started in Germany and pedaled 8,000 miles just to come to your beautiful hotel and would love to stay here, if only there was a room" than it is to say "I started in San Diego and, you know, it's really hot outside, and I'm kind of a wimp who would like to stay in your hotel. I know you don't have a room, but look at these sad, puppy eyes."

Plus, Klaus has a cool German accent.

When he told the desk attendant our story, she simply found us a room….. just like that.... as if we had reserved it a week ago and had finally arrived.

After presenting her the voucher, then luxuriating in the air conditioning for a little while, I gave Don a call to let him know we got a room and to thank him for his thoughtfulness.

After our core temperatures dropped below triple digits and we had chiseled off the salt deposits from our skin, we found our way across the parking lot to the Circle K and bought tomorrow's breakfast. On the way we joked about how shocked we were, SHOCKED, that for the price we paid for the room it didn't come with a free breakfast.

That evening we walked down the hall to the casino. The first thing we noticed was the smell. Smoking is permitted, and most of the people there appeared to be on fire.

Our room came with a "Fun Pack" which includes:
1. A ''50-cent Keno game." Apparently, that doesn't mean a free Keno game that costs fifty cents. It means you get fifty cents off a dollar game.
2. A "free drink up to $2.50." Drinks cost $3.75-$5.00.
3. $1.00 worth of chips to play the slot machines. Woo-Hoo!

This is a picture of Klaus after losing at Keno. We were sure he was going to win.

More casino pictures. Here are some people who clearly KNOW how to party:

We wandered around a bit, drinking a Dr. Pepper, getting the tickets from our Fun Pack, and playing a game of Keno, before going over to the restaurant.

The restaurant is inside the casino, making sure you don't have to stray very far from your chance to Win Big. On the way Klaus took a couple of pictures, and we sat down in the restaurant. I was about to point out the cigarette smoke billowing over the partition and down onto us when a woman in a security uniform came over and asked, "Does one of you have a camera?"

We played dumb for a second, but the jig was up. When Klaus said he did, the woman stated in a firm monotone, as if she'd already said it a hundred times today,

"Cameras aren't allowed in the casino and you'll have to delete the pictures."

He asked, "What about all the cellphones? Are they allowed?"

She responded as if she hadn't heard him.

"Cameras aren't allowed in the casino and you'll have to delete the pictures."

He shrugged and walked back to the room where he left his camera, pictures intact, then returned.

I wondered why they don't allow pictures. If asked, I'm sure they would say it's for "personal privacy," but if that's the case then why aren't those rules enforced in, say, a zoo, or a museum?

Is it to prevent lawyers from collecting evidence in a divorce case about how much time and money the partner is blowing at the casino? Or do they want their Big Winners to be able to maintain their privacy after hitting the jackpot? Is there some associated shame in going to a casino? Or did they not want photographic evidence of some of the gaming violations? It only made me want to take more pictures.

The menu was large but, like the hope of winning at a slot machine, only aspirational. After several responses of "Oh, we don't have any more of that," and "We're out of that, too," I finally just ordered a burger. With extra cigarette smoke, please.

Although I've never gone to a casino specifically to gamble, I have been to conferences in Las Vegas where the opportunity to give away your money is ubiquitous, and I think it's kind of fun occasionally playing the slot machines and losing ten or twenty dollars. It's like going to a movie - I consider it money spent on "entertainment."

I really liked the hotel accommodations but the casino, even with its bright lights and upbeat sounds, seemed subtly miserable and sad, with a sense of desperation hanging in the air.

We went back to our room smelling of cigarette smoke and prepared for another day of bicycling.

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distance: 58.4 miles
average speed: 9.1 mph
maximum speed: 35.4 mph
time on bike: 6:11:04
cumulative miles: 462.3 miles

Today's ride: 58 miles (93 km)
Total: 461 miles (742 km)

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