April 6

HIGH WIND WARNING

Those words appeared on my weather app last night and were still there as I prepared to leave my Needles motel this morning. The winds would be from the north-northwest and gusting beyond 30 mph.  But my schedule! I have to stay on schedule! I'm already a day behind my original schedule. And I'm feeling good! My body is getting into a rhythm. 

I had woken up just before my 4:29 a.m. alarm and felt ready to get going. Also, this was planned as a slightly shorter day of about 60 miles to Kingman, Arizona. So, I'd have strong north-northwest winds as I'm cycling mostly to the north and northeast to Oatman — meaning nasty headwinds and crosswinds — and then, turning easterly, crosswinds to Kingman. But, winds be damned. Kingman here I come!

OK, I admit it, I wasn't thinking logically. I may have been poorly influenced by my Needles motel. I had chosen it to save some money. But it was a dump. The room was depressing. It had dark red walls and only three lights — a lamp next to the desk, a fixture over the vanity and another in the bathroom.  I had reasons to doubt whether the bed sheets had been laundered after the previous guest, so I slept on top of the covers in my sleeping bag.

Given the disrepair of the place, I didn't want to fill up my water bottles from the tap, as I usually do. A Chevron gas station-convenience store was across the street, so I pedaled over and bought bottled water. Outside the store, as I was filling my bottles, a California Highway Patrol officer walked by and told me to be careful out there. I told him I would do my best. (I got to thinking later that, given the high-wind warning, he might have been better at this job if he'd asked where I was headed or offered some caution about the conditions. Oh, well. Grumpy me.)

Bicycle Route 66, which I'm following, was laid out by the Adventure Cycling Association. Even though I would be riding mostly northwest to Kingman, today's route started south out of Needles to get to a bridge crossing the Colorado River into Arizona. As I pedaled away from the Chevron, the wind was at my back. In my biggest gear, I pedaled easily on smooth roads. I knew a huge challenge awaited me, but I was having a wonderful time. Well ... for about 13 miles.

The next part of the route required riding seven miles on the shoulder of Interstate 40. As I rode up to the highway, I entered a more open area. I mistakenly thought I was supposed to go to the other side of the highway to get on the entrance ramp, so I spun my pedals up the overpass. When I got to the top, the crosswind just about knocked me over. It was blasting! And I was getting nervous.  I then realized my error, which meant I had to go back across the overpass again. This time I walked my bike.  I stood at the top of the entrance ramp for a minute or two. Should I do this? I took a moment to judge the wind and my direction. By the time I got down to the highway, I should have the wind at my back. 

Let's go! 

I've pedaled a lot of miles on freeways recently and it's never been fun. But when I got onto the shoulder this time it was extremely hairy! While the wind was mostly at my back, it was unsteady and shifting. At one point it shifted to a slight crosswind just as a semi-trailer flew by. The instant the trailer passed, the wind slammed back across the road and pushed me sideways toward the edge of the shoulder. I was going about 25-30 mph. Over the next few miles I got pushed around quite a bit.

I had just one more mile to go to cross the Colorado River and take Exit 1 in Arizona, but I decided to take the last California exit and assess the situation. As I stood at the top of a pass, I could see the highway descending toward the Colorado. The way I saw it, the unrelenting wind from the north would be exploding down through the river canyon, hitting me from about an 8 o'clock or 9 o'clock angle just as I would be on the bridge. And after that, the highway took a gradual bend uphill to the left, into the teeth of the wind. As I saw it, if I didn't wipe out on the bridge, I might be brought to a stop on the incline.

I hate quitting. But my gut said it was time to bail out. 

I grabbed my phone and opened Google Maps to look for hotels nearby.  There was just one — Pirate Cove Resort & Marina. Its website <https://www.piratecoveresort.com> showed nice-looking, two-story "cabins." Maybe I could get one of those. It was either that or I would have to pedal 13 miles back to Needles, and six miles of that would be on the freeway, into the wind.  I looked over my left shoulder and, amazingly, could see the resort down below. It appeared to be my only option. 

I called the resort and asked if they had a room for the night. The young woman I spoke to said they had a two-night minimum and that, frankly, it was expensive. With the wind whistling into my phone, I explained my situation — a cyclist stranded in the windstorm out by the freeway in desperate need of shelter. She put me on hold to consult with the manager.  After a few minutes, she came back on the line and told me they would waive their two-night policy for me, but that I should know the rate, the additional housekeeping fee, the $500 refundable security deposit, etc.  I said, "That's fine! No problem! I gotta get out of this wind! I have nowhere to go!"

As I rode across the overpass, I kept my left shoe unclipped from my pedal and my leg extended down near the ground in case I had to catch myself against a sudden gust. I got out of the worst of it and slowly rolled down the hill toward the resort. At the resort's front desk the woman was very friendly and explained all the rules.

This place is set up for people staying extended weekends or weeks. It has an RV park and the cabins located along a back channel of the river. Because of the wind, there were hardly any guests. But it appears to be a place that attracts desert rats with dune buggies and motorbikes, and river rats with nice boats. It has a good restaurant and a store with some food items and drinks. It also carries out the pirate theme everywhere, with such things as a faux pirate ship in its lagoon (pictured above). And it's not cheap.

I got into my cabin to wait out the wind. I spent the rest of Wednesday updating this journal, eyeing the weather reports and doing laundry. (My cabin has a washer and dryer!) More of the same was forecast for Thursday, but I kept thinking, "I have to go! I can't sit here another day!"

The restaurant's hours are from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m., so I headed over for dinner at about 6:30. I was all set to do my usual — order two entrees, one for dinner and the other for the next day's breakfast.

And then this:

Due to the high winds, the restaurant had no customers. They closed early, just before I got there. "OK, no problem," I thought. "I'll head over to the general store and get some microwaveable things instead. I need fuel for Thursday!"

The store was closed. Due to the high winds and no customers, they locked up early. OK, this was a problem. I need fuel for Thursday! I headed back to the restaurant — maybe a quarter-mile away on the other end of the property. The restaurant door was still open. I went inside and looked around. Nobody. I went back into the kitchen. "Hello? Anybody here?"  A waitress came out from the back. I laid my woes upon her. "I have no food. I have to eat. I have to have enough energy for tomorrow!" She looked confused. I quickly ran through my situation — cyclist, stranded, blah, blah, blah. "You're lucky.," she said. "The cook's still here."

She went over to the bar. Despite the high winds it had a few customers and was still open. The waitress told the cook my story. He jumped off his stool and came right over. "We'll take care of you! Two orders of pasta bolognese coming up!" I paid for both and the waitress gave me a free slice of cheesecake.

I returned to my cabin, had my dinner and kept watching the weather reports.

Day 7

I awoke at 6 a.m. It was fairly quiet outside. I ate my bolognese breakfast. Got everything packed up. Got my cycling clothes on. Let's do this!

The wind started picking up. I looked at the weather reports. More of the same. In addition to the wind being a factor, the road to Oatman is a narrow two-lane with little or no shoulder. It runs through open desert. The passing motorists will likely be the only people I will see. The thought of getting whipped around on such a road to avoid being hit is not appealing.

I'm still sitting here. I called the front desk to extend my stay. Argh! I'm definitely not on schedule. But my schedule was pretty ambitious. I'm learning to take things as they come.  At least I have a nice place to stay and a nice view — although at a steep price I'm hoping I can offset with some cheap accommodations in the days ahead.

The forecast for Friday says the winds will be much calmer. I'll be back on the road.

Kingman here I come!

Contact me: Thoughts or comments? Email me at richardridesusa@gmail.com.

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