Time for a bit of cycling blog stuff.

If you’re intending to cycle west from Globe to Apache Junction along Highway 60 or eastwards in the opposite direction then you need this information – don’t!

Most of my friends wouldn’t even get on a bicycle so this information is not very useful to them. So here’s an alternative useful message to them – stop drinking alcohol! Now everyone is taking away something useful from his post.

The official Southern Tier Route diverts north from Globe to Jake’s Corner and southwards again to near Apache Junction. Susan and I should have cycled the official route but we didn’t because we don’t always do as we’re told. That’s because we don’t always know what’s best 🤠. Actually, if you saw the 70 mile detour you would kind of understand!

Highway 60 at this stage is steep with no shoulder, blind corners and vehicle drivers with no thoughts. Yes they must be thinking of something but its certainly not bicycle or anything related to potential road safety hazards.

So a 20 mile 7% mile climb was fraught with safety issues and speeding vehicles racing side by side up the two lane carriageway. Now I’m reasonably safety conscious on a bicycle and this is one of the very few times that we have crossed to the opposite carriageway and walked at dangerous bends. If you’re a cyclist and don’t do this then your safety is a lottery – I can’t be more direct than that.

At the top its all downhill and the hazards are less as you can now travel at 40+ mph. Unfortunately, vehicles still try to overtake even though its single carriageway with blind corners at this point!

There’s also an infamous tunnel that cyclists travelling eastwards don’t look forward to as it’s a 7% uphill climb in dim light.

We were fortunate as we were going downhill at a reasonable rate. It’s a single carriageway and I take up a position in the middle of the lane – if you sit at the nearside they will pass within inches at 50 mph. However, on this road, if you sit in the middle of the lane they will still pass by crossing into the face of the oncoming traffic. I mean the tunnel is only about 300 yards long! Can they not wait 15 seconds? Arizona drivers!

A 7% gradient takes a toll on our three brakes – two disc and one rim – and although we cadence braked the heavy tandem takes some slowing once it gets going. Bit like myself 🤠 Once the burning brake smell became too strong and I was thinking we were on fire we decided to stop and let everything cool down.

Then the twisty windy bits disappeared and we saw over the horizon.

More importantly, once the twisty bits have gone and you can see what’s in front then you don’t need to brake. My goodness the tandem can travel downward quickly and at this point you can see we have a hard shoulder. I learned from Canada – sit still in the assumed position and don’t think about what could happen. Just enjoy the downhill.

So that’s Globe to Apache Junction. Just don’t! Oh and the rest of you not interested in cycling – just don’t do what you shouldn’t be doing either!

Leaving Safford was relatively uncomfortable for myself. Sgt Major Sunrise (falsely known to many of you as that nice person called Susan) likes an early start and has me up at the crack of dawn.

Mornings are like a boot camp and slackers are not tolerated. It’s actually starts the evening before when we’re just about to put the lights out and Susan is packing up! There’s my gear all over the place and she’s packed and ready. I swear one night she even went to bed in her cycling gear and in the morning she just brushed her teeth and stood at the door ready!

Most mornings she will be packed, dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed silently waiting. You see that’s what’s she does – she does it silently! No moaning. No shouting. Not even a tut tut! How do you cope with that? You just know you have to get a move on even when her lips are not moving. Bloody effective!

Actually, Sgt Major Sunrise had me up this day at 5.30am which is an hour before the bloody crack of dawn and as our rubbish Motel 6 didn’t offer a rubbish breakfast we packed and cycled to a nearby 24 hour McDonalds and watched the sunrise over a breakfast McMuffin. How splendid.

As we cycle across America the time zones change with alarming regularity and sunrise and sunset are significantly different each week. It was only a week or two ago I got a lie in until after 7am as it wasn’t light until after 8am. Alas these days appear to have disappeared over the cycling horizon and Sgt Major Sunrise has me up an hour ahead of the sun each day. Sadly, there is another time zone coming up, the clocks are moving and Sgt Major Sunrise has it all monitored with military precision.

So we cycled out of Safford at 0632hrs as the sun hit the Golden M and we set off for Apache Country. Yes, today we were cycling through the San Carlos Reservation.

Now the Apache Indians are reasonably well known to all of us through the Western movies which never did justice to this culturally rich collection of tribes.

The Apache consist of a number of tribes that originated in Alaska and western Canada before moving as far south as Arizona and Mexico. They were nomadic people and primarily hunter gatherers but increasingly came into conflict with the Spanish invaders in the 17th century. Before long, the prowess of the Apache in battle became legend. They are still known to be the greatest fighters with a knife.

Eventually, a Spanish leader agreed to designate an area of Texas for the Apaches to live and in a ceremony in 1749, an Apache chief buried a hatchet to symbolise the fighting was over. We still use the phrase to ‘bury the hatchet’ today.

Of course, after the Spanish, the Apache were in conflict with the Mexicans, Americans and other Indian tribes including the Comanche. Each time it can be rightfully argued that the Apache were defending their lands.

Towards the end of the era of Apache wars, a very famous Apache Indian came to the fore – none other than the legendary Geronimo who led his people’s defence of their lands against the Mexicans and the Americans.

Following the murder of his mother, wife and three children by Mexican soldiers, he went out to the wilderness and a voice came to him and promised:

“no gun will ever kill you. I will take the bullets from the guns of the Mexicans… and I will guide your arrows“.

Backed by this knowledge, Geronimo tracked and killed the soldiers and started on the path to war.

Then along came the Americans who reneged on reservation agreements and set Geronimo and his band of followers off on an a new round of fighting that proved to be the last of the Indian wars against the US. After fighting for his homeland for almost 30 years, Geronimo was the last American Indian warrior to formally surrender to the United States.

He eventually surrendered (actually he surrendered three times but started again twice) and spent 27 years as a prisoner of war though he did have a bit of a celebrity status. In 1905 he even published his autobiography and received a private audience with President Roosevelt.

At the grand age of 79, Geronimo died from pneumonia following a fall from his horse – the bullets never did get him after all.

Here’s Apache Country- beautiful!

Thankfully our cycle was without incident. The Mexicans, the Americans and the Comanche let us pass peacefully. Well we weren’t that peaceful as it was 76 miles and nearly 3,000 feet of ascent up long, long hills and on days like these I like everyone to hear my pain!

We arrived in Globe and it was double trouble. We stayed at a budget Motel 6 and ate at a Taco Bell. I hear you shouting – I know, I know what possessed us? As usual its all about convenience. Motel 6 was beside the highway and we wont walk far for dinner.

At Taco Bell we both had some kind of ‘protein salad bowl’ and I had a burrito as a side. It wasn’t all bad though – the cola was pretty nice.

I’m sorry to say this and I hope I don’t hurt the feelings of Mexico but, really, I just don’t get Mexican food. As I see it, whether you order a bowl, a burrito, a taco, a quesadilla, an enchilada etc etc its kind of all the same stuff presented in a different way cemented together with refried beans.

Seriously, is an enchilada not just a burrito covered in hot sauce? Are fajitas not just a burrito without the wrap? Yes, you can tell me to eat in good Mexican restaurants but we have done traditional and authentic on this trip. Believe me! I’ve eaten more refined beans that you’ve seen in a year!

Changing the subject quickly before I get into Mexican food trouble, here is a random picture of the Saguaro Cactus. The image of the Saguaro is well known to us all from all the old western films. Now when you watch your next John Wayne movie in the company of your illustrious friends you can point to the cactus and say “hey nice Saguaro!”

And here’s Sgt Major Sunrise and a couple of Saguaro guards.

From Globe we cycled through another tiring day for 56 miles and nearly 2,000 feet to Apache Junction. Nice motel this time and we spent an evening in the Handlebar Pub and Grill. Now I’ve no idea why they use the bicycle handlebar as their name as there’s absolutely nothing to do with bicycles in the pub.

I went in thinking I would spend an evening talking spokes, punctures and chain oil. I must admit it was a bit of a disappointment especially as I was sitting in a pub in my best tight fitting fluorescent green Lycra gear carrying my collapsible tyre pump. However, after quite a few craft ales (‘Happy Camper’) an outstanding burger and a live band I forgot my disappointment. Thankfully, Sgt Major Sunrise had her eyes on the clock and got me home before the dancing started – nobody really wanted to see my best dancing moves in lycra!

The next morning, I found there’s nothing worse than a hangover before sunrise, followed by a bowl of granola, two orange juices, four breakfast muffins with egg and bacon followed by a 37 mile cycle to Scottsdale, slightly north of Phoenix. I felt ill and, of course, I blame it on Sgt Major Sunrise for getting me up far too early!

2,418 miles done. Feels like more.

From Deming we cycled 62 miles to Lordsburg through a reasonably strong headwind. All the way across America and our first headwind worth mentioning.

I’ve moaned about the heat, the rain and the cold but I’m not going to moan about the wind. Not yet anyway. A headwind is worse than everything else put together but its not been bad enough yet to create an issue for us.

Still the cycle to Lordsburg was pretty tiring and it didn’t help that we got another puncture 6 miles from our destination.

To date that’s 18 punctures. Probably 5 caused by degraded rim tape, 6 by wire from truck tyres and the rest cause unknown. Tyre choice is important when touring and the Schwalbe Big Apple tyres we started with was a mistake. Great tyres for the tandem but not for American roads which are ridiculously covered in crap.

After Lordsburg we headed 77 miles to Safford. Along the way we passed into Arizona. That’s right – time for another border picture.

Now I suppose at this point I should clarify a little bit of fake news. We’re in America after all and I hear there’s a lot of fake news about and well I kind of added to it.

I know you would have been disappointed if we had crossed into New Mexico and I hadn’t posted a picture of the border with a sign. So I did a couple of posts ago.

Actually, when we crossed into New Mexico along the Rio Grande cycle path there wasn’t a ‘New Mexico’ sign. A couple of days later, when we left ‘New Mexico’ into Arizona we crossed the road and pretended we were arriving. Susan made me do it.

Now most of the people reading the blog won’t know the difference but in the interests of blog integrity I must confess the arriving in New Mexico picture is a fake! We were actually leaving!

Thankfully, most of us are old people and will forget that detail and in a month I will erase the last few paragraphs of this post and nobody will be wiser and my conscience will be clear.

However, we really are in Arizona and what a place of outstanding beauty it is.

So where are we now?

Honestly, this is where we are! No more fake news.

3 days cycling to Phoenix.

2,250 miles done and dusted.

Leaving Las Cruces we headed directly west towards Deming (66 miles).

We followed ‘frontage’ roads alongside the main Interstate and initially made good progress when we left Las Cruces. Then Google Maps told us to use an overpass to cross over to the north side of the Interstate to continue. We decided to stay on the road we were on. Oh I know but you had to be there! Everything was looking fine and Google Maps said the route we were currently on was an option.

Two miles later the road went from paved highway to this:

Well what would you do? Turn around and go back to the overpass? Now I’m the kind of person that is always going to go forward and I rely on Susan to add a bit of sense when sense is required.

“What do you think?” I asked. I was sounding reasonably positive and so Susan said to her ‘idiot at the front’ of the bicycle ‘I think we should give it a try‘.

Off we set down the sandy limestone road. ‘How is it?’ Susan asked the ‘idiot at the front’ whose steering was weaving. It was clear I was having difficultly balancing. ‘It’s fine‘ said the ‘idiot at the front’.

I mean, that’s the kind of thing the ‘idiot at the front’ would say and Susan should know that. What I’m saying here is that really all what was about to happen was now Susan’s fault – she was listening to the ‘idiot at the front’. This is actually a lesson if you are ever faced with an ‘idiot at the front’ – please do something to change the course of your destiny.

So the road changed to this:

Instead of heading west towards Deming we were now heading due south into the desert. We were eight miles from the overpass and the sand was getting deeper in patches.

Now the last thing you ask the ‘idiot at the front’ is ‘is it still okay for you?‘ By this time I was getting used to cycling in the frequent sand pits and as long as I shouted ‘pedal hard‘ we could force our way through.

I was just congratulating myself on the skill I was displaying when the bike went over into a sand pit. I managed to jump off as I get a millisecond warning as the front wheel goes from my hands. Unfortunately, Susan hits the sand with the bike. It’s okay though I’m fine and I still haven’t even got sand in my shoes!

We cycle on as we know there is a right turn 10 miles into the desert that will turn us west and back towards civilisation. ‘Turn right’ says Google Maps and continue on this road for 13 miles. This track was actually called ‘The Robert Larson Boulevard’. Well Robert you’re having a laugh!

So would you turn back now? Of course you wouldn’t!

So ‘idiot at the front’ and Susan headed onwards. We couldn’t cycle at this section so we pushed for 15 minutes until the desert sand firmed up and we cycled again. We stopped for lunch but we couldn’t eat much because we weren’t carrying enough water. Have you ever tried eating a sandwich when your mouth is like the desert you’re cycling through? I suppose I should also mention it was now midday.

Now at the time it was all very difficult but after two months on the road we are reasonably fit and hardy so everything was calm. It’s hard not to be calm when you have an ‘idiot at the front’ who is entirely confident he can cycle through endless miles of desert.

After another five miles this road came to a junction. That’s right a bloody junction in the desert! Google Maps said go straight ahead westwards but there was another option to turn right and head north eight miles towards the Interstate.

Now the route westwards was reasonably appealing to the ‘idiot at the front’ as it headed in the right direction. He even walked a bit and scoped it out.

Unfortunately, there actually wasn’t even a track. Maybe there was at one time. Maybe there will be in the future but right now it was desert and, in these circumstances, even the ‘idiot at the front’ had to admit defeat and head north.

All went well as we headed north and we even safely negotiated a mud pit in the desert. Yes a red mud pit and we’re still scraping the mud off the bike and our shoes.

Then, as we approached the highway Susan said ‘if there’s a fence between us and the highway you can cut it and we’ll get through. You can use your multi tool’.

Now the pliers on my multi tool would be lucky to cut through a paper bag but that’s exactly the kind of never give up attitude the ‘idiot at the front’ likes. What a partnership!

Thankfully, we found another frontage paved road and the day was saved. After another 25 miles of cycling and next to no water we were pretty dehydrated and stopped at a gas station just before the motel.

We will dream about the large ‘fountain’ of cola we each had in the setting sun for many years to come

The day ended at the Grand Motor Inn with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni cheese and beer. What a lovely end to our cycle in the New Mexico desert.

We left El Paso, Texas, and headed north to the town of Las Cruces, New Mexico. It was a short 48 miles with only 1,000 ft ascent and everything went smoothly.

I’ve now replaced the rim tape on both wheels and the rear wheel now has a self sealing inner tube. I wonder how well that will work? All the spokes seem strong and apart from a difficult to trace squeak from behind Susan’s seat all appears well with the bike. Incidentally, there’s never been a squeak from my seat but I really don’t know if you can read anything into that 🙄.

Part of our route to Las Cruces went along a cycle path beside the Rio Grande river and on that path we passed into New Mexico. As everyone likes to see Susan and I standing beside a sign here is a photo at a New Mexico sign.

Las Cruces is a nice enough town and was established by the US Army in 1849. It was built near a stand of crosses marking the graves of travellers and soldiers and this landmark of crosses gave the town its name.

Las Cruces, nearby Mesilla and southern New Mexico was the area where the infamous Billy the Kid marauded. He stole, murdered, was arrested and jailed (in Mesilla) only to escape, murder and subsequently be hunted down by Pat Garrett, an American old west lawman. One day, Billy the Kid was holed up in Pete Maxwell’s (local land owner) house and suspecting someone was in the bedroom he walked in and asked “quien es?” (“who’s there?’). Garrett answered by shooting Billy the Kid twice in the chest. Frontier justice.

That’s us at the big blue dot.

Over the next week or so we head towards Phoenix, Arizona, passing briefly through New Mexico en route.

We won’t slavishly follow the American Cycling Association’s Southern Tier Route as some of it doesn’t make sense. We really don’t need to cycle circuitous routes through anonymous hills when we can take a pleasant and more direct route.

So tomorrow it’s Las Cruces.

Recently the weather has been relatively cloudy and cool (25c /77f) and we have not been troubled by wind. We much prefer the cloudy skies but feel our luck wont last.

1997 miles down. A lot less than that to San Diego.

Leaving our guest house in Fort Davis the road climbed for 18 miles at a 1% gradient and we eventually reached 6,000 feet altitude.

The next 62 miles was either downhill or reasonably flat until we reached Van Horn. We made great time and at a ‘banana break’ en route, Susan caught me returning from a quick shopping trip.

As you can see the weather is still quite cool. Long may it continue.

Actually, the shop is a sculpture’ called ‘Prada Marfa’. I’m not even going to offer a comment or wonder how much it cost or even ask what’s the point?

From Van Horn we had a short (34 miles) to Sierra Blanca which is a lovely town that’s been bypassed by the interstate. It’s slowly declining into a ghost town.

We were told that the ‘State’ cinema, in the photo directly above, is one of only two adobe (mud brick) cinemas in America.

Apparently it closed in the 1950’s and inside is pristine and looks like the day it closed with all the old equipment and movie posters. Unfortunately, the current owner isn’t caring for the outside. Sad.

Leaving the decayed elegance of Sierra Blanca we cycled 72 miles to the south east of El Paso followed by a short and uneventful 24 miles into the city centre the next day.

We met some fellow cyclists who were travelling the same route in the opposite direction. Lovely people. Good luck with your journey and be safe.

So that’s where we are now – El Paso.

Right on the Texas and Mexico border. We have been staying at a lovely Airbnb house near the city centre but, after three nights of accommodation luxury, a new bottle of bourbon, numerous bottles of local craft beer and more Mexican food than is good for us, its time to hit the road again. I will be glad to get back to my burgers 🍔

Hasta la proxima.

Adios.

From our camp in Langtry we headed 60 miles to Sanderson over hill and canyon, climbing over 3,000 feet in the process. A hard day with a puncture thrown in for good measure.

The motel was crummy but the Ranch House for a burger was damn fine. Wish I had been counting how many burgers I’ve had this trip. It’s an easy choice when you’re tired but packed with protein and carbs – just what a cyclists needs. Sometimes there’s even a few vitamins if a salad is included.

You wouldn’t complain about the burger in the Ranch House even if it was bad. You see the young waitress has a gun strapped to her waist. That’s Texas! And I can’t even begin to tell you what was written in sparkly letters on her T shirt! Really I can’t. I was like a 5 year old child who sees something strange he shouldn’t be staring at. Ranch House – thoroughly recommended.

Over the next few days we pedalled steadily through Marathon (55 miles), Fort Davis (55 miles), Van Horn (80 miles) and climbed 5,000 feet. It wasn’t so rolling but a steady 1% gradient mile after mile. Now these 1% hills are relentlessly slow and our speed suffers. Give me the pain of a big uphill and downhill any day.

Approaching Marathon we had a triple puncture whammy! Yes its time to talk wheel issues again. You love it!

Following ‘Spokegate’ in Florida we thought our wheel issues were behind us. We had both wheels rebuilt and Susan lost some weight so all was fine or so we thought!

Five miles from Marathon. Front wheel Puncture. Quick change (Susan and I are so practised we’re now like a formula 1 team pit stop team). New inner tube in. Pedal one mile. Second front wheel puncture. Change inner tube. Pedal one mile. Puncture!

No spare inner tubes left so we inflated the deflating inner tube and kept on pedalling, stopping every mile to re- inflate. We made it to our rather nice motel cabin and turned it into a bike workshop.

Now you’re thinking we didn’t check the tyres for a sharp object but we did. It was only when we got the the motel when I examined the burst inner tubes I found the punctures were on the inside of the wheel. Without getting too technical and boring the culprit was the rim tape.

Cyclists know what I’m talking about and for non cyclists who are still reading let me explain – inside the tyre, the rim tape stops the rubber inner tube catching on jaggy metal bits on the inside of the wheel. Our rim tape was like myself – well past its best!

The plastic tape appears to have deformed in the heat at the earlier part of our tour and hardened in the cold of the latter part of the tour. It now presented hard sharp plastic edges to the inner tube.

Now if you’re not interested in tubes and rims then please move on to the nice picture of Susan smiling at you. You’ve had all that salacious storytelling about Jersey Lilly and the Jack of Hearts and now its time to cater for people interested in cycling.

So what did we do with our deformed rim tape in the middle of Marathon which is in the middle of nowhere? I went to the local general store and bought some masking tape and lined the rims with a bit of a diy bodge. Do you know? Sometimes I sit back with a beer and congratulate myself for the ingenuity. Well, nobody else is going to do it 🤠

Before we move on from Marathon – the town was a filming location for the 1985 Kevin Coster film ‘Fandango’. Another movie reference for you Brian – you’re probably the only one that may have even heard of that movie! 🎥 🍿

The following day was wind and rain and 1% gradient. You’ve seen Susan in her summer gear so now its her cold rain gear. Still smiling – what a trouper!

We passed a rather sad sight on the road – a ghost bike to commemorate a cyclist killed on the road. Ghost bikes are part of an ‘unofficial’ worldwide movement.

We also passed some lighthearted sights.

Eventually reaching our lovely guest house at Fort Davis.

Self check in with no manager/owner present and no other guests. The whole ghostly place to ourselves. Sweet. The beer? Oh that’s me still congratulating myself for solving ‘Rimgate’

Bye y’all 🤠