June 7, 2016
Why am I such a weenie?
Cycling the Great Divide, Day Seven: Lower Black Canyon Campground, New Mexico to a Field Thirteen Miles Northwest of the Beaverhead Work Center, New Mexico
Yesterday’s strenuous ride was a shock to our systems, but today we rebounded — this was a great day of riding, with some stunning scenery, especially the last part of the day.
It was the chilliest morning yet. I woke in the tent at 4:00, but Joy was sleeping soundly, so I lay quietly in my sleeping bag for a while. We both were up by 5:15, and were riding out of the creek side campground, which we’d had to ourselves, at 6:30. Yesterday I’d ridden my bike through the creek, but this morning I decided to be cautious, and carried/manhandled the 100 pound bike across the water. Joy (who simply rode her bike through the creek) thought this inelegant operation was worth filming, for some reason.
We knew there would be a steep, rocky climb out of the campground this morning, so that wasn’t an unpleasant surprise, and it was much easier in the cool morning. We gained 800 feet in three miles, and by the time we reached the top I was hot enough to take my jacket off.
We immediately saw the tracks of the NYC cyclist, who had apparently camped several miles down the road from us. Hopefully nobody behind me tries to follow my wobbly line, which wanders all over the place, including off the road at times.
After the first steep climb there was some flat riding followed by a long descent that was unfortunately marred by a lot of washboarding. Irritating, because it made the descent a lot less fun. Both of us have probably been using our brakes on these descents too much, and we’ll have to replace the brake pads sooner than we expected.
Halfway down the mountain I decided to touch my front disc brake, and see how hot it was. It felt like touching a red-hot kitchen stove. My curiosity satisfied, I won’t be doing that again.
Around this time I saw large animal quickly run across the road in front of me. It was as big as a horse (definitely not a deer.) Joy was a little bit ahead of me, and didn’t see it, but we both spent some time examining its tracks in the dusty gravel road. Joy’s opinion: It was an elk.
We had a really nice, scenic flat section, through some cottonwoods, and then past a ranch and a private lake. The final big climb of the day was much harder than the one in the morning, since it was now about 40 degrees warmer and the sun was beating down on us. I actually enjoy the climbing, even in the heat, but Joy definitely does not. At all.
As I waited for her in the shade of a small tree part of the way up the mountain, my wife slowly pedaled toward me while singing “Why am I such a weenie?” to the tune of the sad song from the old Christmas special “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” (“Why am I such a misfit?”). Then she removed her helmet for the remainder of the climb (just like the racers in the Tour de France!), put in one earphone playing the Black Keys, got back on the bike, and slowly headed back up. Inspirational.
Our maps showed something called Beaverhead Work Center, located about 27 miles into today’s ride. It’s the home base for firefighters and other personnel working in this part of the Gila National Forest, and in addition to potable water and a pit toilet, was rumored to contain a pop machine, although we had heard reports that the pop machine was not in working order.
The first thing I asked the helpful medic at Beaverhood, who gave his name as “E.T.”, was: “Does the pop machine work?” After learning that it was, in fact, operational, I handed him the note from JC, the stranded man in the campground from yesterday, and, having fulfilled my responsibility to the annoying old coot, purchased and immediately chugged two cans of Orange Crush, which were the coldest, best soft drinks ever. Joy opted for Coca Cola. She’s normally a Pepsi fan who disdains Coke, but you have to be flexible in the desert when it’s 90+ degrees, I guess.
We spent a couple of hours sitting on a bench under the tree at Beaverhead, filling our water bottles, looking at the our maps, and eating a late lunch / early dinner that Joy cooked. Around this time we noticed that our dark tans were actually mostly dirt from the dusty roads of the last two days. Gross.
By now it was approaching 4:00, and we realized we probably wouldn’t have enough time to make it out of the private ranch lands and into the public land where camping is allowed. We could have camped at the Beaverhead Work Center itself, but we’d only done 27 miles, and that seemed too little. So we rode away with the vague plan of finding somewhere to “stealth camp.”
The next thirteen miles or so were some of the most stunning scenery of the trip, for me, anyway: Wide open grassland, interesting rock formations, with the only signs of humans the dirt roads that led to ranch houses so far off our own dirt road that they weren’t visible. Several times we rode near open-range cattle. Joy was amused by my slight nervousness when riding among the cattle, and joked about the possibility of the “first fatal goring on the Great Divide.” I didn’t think it was a laughing matter, however.
As it grew late we started looking for a place to set up camp. This was my first time stealth camping, and I picked a spot a little ways up on a bluff, away from the rutted dirt road. There was no water, so we used Wet Wipes to clean up (first time I’ve done that), and went to bed at dusk. There was no chance of rain, so we left the tent fly off, and I was amazed at how bright the stars were — we were miles from any artificial light sources, and the sky was very clear.
We listened for a while do the cattle doing their evening mooing thing, and although I was a little concerned that a curious cow might knock into our tent, I fell asleep quickly.
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Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 227 miles (365 km)
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