To Bisbee

November 1, 2016

El Paso, ad insanium

I'm infected by an ear worm and it's slowly driving me mad.

The night before last, the Musicians performing at dinner in Sonoita sang El Paso, the famous country-western ballad. It's quite long and has a very repetitive, unbroken continuous rhythm. If you're not familiar with it, think of it as Bolero redone in Tex-Mex.

I was surprised when Rachael said she didn't recognize it - sort of like not knowing Home on the Range. I just looked up the song though and see that it first came out and was a popular hit in 1959, when I was an impressionable young teenager and she was an infant. So, not so surprising it was new to her.

Yesterday morning we heard it again on the radio at the OK Cafe, over breakfast in Deadwood. I picked up on it and pointed it out to Rachael, and ever since I've been stuck with it. It has a decent cadence for cycling to, so it's been on the mental turntable for most of the last two days rides. That's fine, but now it's keeping me awake at night.

If Rachael weren't asleep, I'd play the nice Artie Shaw rendition of My Funny Valentine my friend Frank sent me after I commented on hearing the song over dinner in Tubac. It might help me eradicate my ear worm infestation, but then I'd have a headache of a different sort. Rachael hates being wakened fm a sound sleep.

Other than that and a second flat tire in three days, we're doing fine. Oh, and my sandals. That too.

It was just pre-dawn when we stepped out this morning for breakfast at the OK Cafe. The Trip Advisor page on them claimed that they opened their doors at 6, which worked well for us. We were awake anyway, and wanted an early start. Just before leaving the room I pinch tested my rear tire, which I was becoming suspicious of on the last few miles last night (am I just tired, or tired?). As I feared - completely flat. We were lucky to have gotten before it gave out ilast night.

Trip Advisor was half-right about the OK Cafe. Their front door was unlocked, but nearly all of their lights were out. I opened the door and quizzed the lady there. Come back at 7. Oh well. It got me up earlier to work on the tire, and out the door in time to admire another glorious sunrise.

Back at the Larian again, I took my bike outside and changed my tube in the early morning light, entertained by awakening grackles. It went quickly and smoothly for a change, and at just past 7 we were back at the cafe. Great place, as it turns out. Good food, good coffee, good service, entree sting aura. A couple of scruffy old coots packing heat are just sitting down for their meal (in Deadwood, you never know when you might need a gun over breakfast), and an immense head of a buffalo looms above us.

Over breakfast we talk over the day's plans. Two flats in three days (one by staple, one by thorn) is worrisome, especially when heading off to more remote country. We decide to change the southe and head into Sierra Vista and see about filling our tubes with sealant, like we did on our tour of New Mexico. Sierra vista is off route a bit, but it has the only bike stores around. Rachael also surfs the net to look for a replacement for her broken GoPro mounts, finds one offering two day delivery, so she places an order to be shipped to our motel in Safford, several days download.

At about 9:30 we're out the door and cycling east on Charleston Road, headed for Sierra Vista. At about 9:40 (2.05 miles from the motel), Rachael's phone rings and uncharacteristically (she normally just ignores phone calls while riding), she pulls over and takes the call. It's the motel - they've just cleaned the room and found my sandals. Back to the Larian again.

Self portrait in the hubcap of a shiny red Ford Ram 1500 pickup, while repairing my second flat rear tire of the tour.

The Tombstone county courthouse, when leaving town (for the first time)

We're back in Tombstone again! Might as well take a photo I missed the first time through.

Finally, we're really underway. At 6.15 miles into the ride we're back at the site of the phone call, and shortly after we crest a small ridge and get our first view of Sierra Vista, 17 miles away in a broad basin. It's a lovely ride, beginning with a gradual drop to the San Pedro River (500' descent over 10 miles). Winds from the southwest are supposed to intensify midday, but for now they're very mild, almost unnoticeable. Behind the river we start climbing again, but at the same lazy slope. In another five miles we arrive at the first stoplights of town.

Finally over the hump, we're dropping to the San Pedro River. Sierra Vista is that blurry sprawl in the distance. In between is a fifteen mile creosote-blanketed basin.

We arrive at the bike store just before noon. It's a great bike shop, and they quickly service both bikes. We feel much more secure, and ready to venture out in the wilderness again. First though we make a stop at he nearby McDonalds for a fast meal. We very seldom eat at McDonalds - I think the last time was last Christmas Eve, in Ramona, California. I had another flat tire then on our Joshua Tree tour, just in front of the restaurant at midday. How could we not stop then?

It's as we expected (Rachael actually preferred yesterday's meal at the Shell station), but it does the deed. By 2 we're on the road again, riding on the sidewalks of busy, shoulderless Fry Avenue (Highway 90) for about two miles before finally escaping the sprawl.

Right on schedule, the wind picked up at midday. We breeze our way east, recrossing the creasote plain, with the Mule Mountains quickly growing larger in the distance. They're a bit worrisome, because they look quite high and I thought our route followed along the crest. Just how much of a climb is ahead for us, anyway. A mile away, and I still can't see where we're going - it looks like we're just wheeling into a dark wall. At the last minute a gap finally appears and it's apparent hat we're going through them, not over.

Showing some leg, Highway 90. Also, notice the rumblestrip on the shoulder. Highway 90 would be fine without the occasional unfriendly driver and the chip seal shoulder mutilated by the rumble strip. Fine other than that.

In the Mule Mountains, cycling south to Bisbee

Soon after passing through the gap, highway 90 ends at a T junction with highway 80. We're glad, because by now we're pretty sick of 90 and its chip seal, rumble stripped shoulder. 80 has a much smoother surface and is a pleasure to ride on. We turn southeast and start slowly climbing through a trough that divides the range. Five miles later, and we're near the top. The highway passes through a tunnel and avoids the summit, but we take a beautiful side road that continues a bit further uphill and crests at a wonderful vantage point that looks down on Bisbee and in the distance the Lavender Mine, the great copper mine that dominates the town's history.

And, even though we're only at 6000', we're at the continental divide!

After this it's a fast, switchback descent to Old Bisbee, dropping about 500' in only a mile or so. Soon we pull up at the Jonquil Motel, where the owner is waiting for us and about ready to take off for his evening run. He leaves us with keys, the essential formation, and advises to head over to Screaming Banshee Pizza. Good advice, as we soon learn for ourselves.

On the Old Divide Road just north of Bisbee, at the continental divide

Looking south from the continental divide: Bisbee is just below us, with the Lavender Mine in the distance.

The Lavender Mine, from the continental divide

Today's ride: 48 miles (77 km)
Total: 227 miles (365 km)

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