April 12

Now that was a nice day.

Yes, it was cold and windy to start, but everything went pretty much as expected on my 47-mile ride from Kingman to Peach Springs — with a few small surprises that made it fun.

The vicious winds that were ripping through Kingman yesterday calmed considerably, but they were still blowing at about 20-25 mph this morning, with temperatures dropping about 10-15 degrees, into the 50s. Farther down the road, as I headed northeast, it was supposed to be colder, in the 40s.

I wanted to get an earlier start than I've been getting, so on Monday night I laid out all my cold-weather gear: leggings, arm warmers, a heavy base-layer shirt, a long-sleeve wool-polyester cycling jersey, a regular jersey, gloves, a cap with ear flaps that fits under my cycling helmet, a cowl for my neck and face, lycra booties that stretch over my cycling shoes to keep my feet warm, and my bright red windbreaker/rain jacket. I'd also packed everything into my bike bags that I wouldn't need in the morning, so they would be ready to go. 

My alarm went off at 4 a.m. —  two minutes after I woke up. I immediately got up, went to the refrigerator and pulled out a veggie burrito I'd bought at a restaurant across the street from my motel Monday night. It was frozen solid in its takeout container. Seems my in-room fridge was cranked up a bit too high. I popped the burrito in the microwave and started getting dressed. At 4:30 I turned on the TV to catch the latest weather report from Phoenix TV station KPHO, which airs "Good Morning Arizona" at that crazy time. As I dug into my now-hot burrito packed with lots of rice, beans and sautéed vegetables, the anchors on the show complained about the impact the winds were having on their allergies. 

Phoenix is about 200 miles from Kingman, but the winds were wreaking havoc throughout the state. Temperatures there were going to be in the 70s today, but the weatherman said a cold front was cutting across northern Arizona (where I am), with northwest winds bringing in colder conditions.

It's been taking me a while to get going in the mornings. I was finally ready to go by 6 a.m.  I didn't really want to start in the dark, anyway, and sunrise was at 6:07. As light was entering the sky, I went to the little sliding window in my room's bathroom. From there I could see the flags in front of the police department building — the ones I'd shot video and pictures of the day before. This morning they were waving, not looking like they were going to rip away from their flagpoles. That's what I hoped to see.

I rolled out of the motel parking lot a little before 6:30, feeling a chill but confident my layers would keep me warm once I got pedaling. With the cowl pulled up over my nose and mouth and my sunglasses on, I didn't have any bare skin showing.

I took the four-lane Andy Devine Avenue northeast for a couple of miles. The wind was coming from the north-northwest, cutting across me at 9 o'clock and 10 o'clock angles. When occasional gusts pushed me around a bit, I'd let out a loud "Whoooaaa!!" that no one could hear. But I was in a bike lane on a smooth, wide street, so I didn't feel unsafe.

At the city limits, however, the wide four-lane street immediately narrowed into a two-lane highway. And the smoothly paved Kingman streets I had enjoyed switched into an Arizona state highway with rough, cracked, chip-seal shoulders. In the city, I was moving along at 11-12 mph. On the rougher pavement, in more open country, I was slowed to about 8 mph. But as I got farther from Kingman, fewer cars were on the road.

For as far as I could see ahead, across a wide-open, flat plain, the highway stayed in a perfectly straight line. No bends. No turns. And my battle with the wind continued. In one stretch of about two or three miles the wind picked up into a steady sideways push. There was a gap in the hills about a mile to my left, and the wind apparently was funneling through it.

When I left Kingman, I could see dust getting kicked up in the distance. After about 10 miles, I was in it. I could feel a burn in my eyes and nostrils. At some point I had dropped the cowl from over my face, and I could now feel a light coating on my tongue. The hills I had seen from a distance were now hidden behind what was almost like a light-brown fog. Even the sun was shrouded.

Although the going was tough, I was in good spirits. I'd studied the maps and weather reports and knew that at 20 miles, near the little community of Antares, the road would make a long bend to the right, heading southeast, and those north-northwest winds would become a tailwind. 

I wasn't disappointed. As I pedaled into the turn, I could feel the wind coming onto my back. The whistling through my bike helmet stopped. Things got quiet. Click ... click ... click ... I started shifting into bigger gears as my pedals moved more easily. Soon I was in my biggest gear, turning the pedals up to spin-class speed — 17 mph ... 20 mph ... 25 mph! The next 6-8 miles were wonderful as I settled into about a 20-mph pace.

I was enjoying myself so much that, at about six miles in that direction, I almost flew past the little community of Hackberry and the Hackberry General Store, one of two stops I wanted to make. I zipped into the store's parking lot and stepped inside. It felt so nice and warm.

I needed to use the restroom. When I stepped inside and flipped on the light, I was a little shocked by the wallpaper. So much so that I couldn't help but get out my camera. 

I then took some time looking around the store and spotted a T-shirt I liked. Something about the name "Hackberry" I couldn't resist.

Over the remaining 20 miles or so the road turned back in a northeasterly direction. I made my second stop of the day at the Gas N Grub store in Truxton. "I think I passed you on the way here," the lady behind the counter said. "A lot of people do that," I replied, getting her to chuckle. I grabbed a bottle of chocolate milk out of the cooler. "I feel like eating junk right now," I told her, eyeing a display of Hostess goodies. "I think these are good," she said pointing to some preservative-laden, pre-wrapped slices of marble pound cake near the cash register.  "Better than Hostess."

She was right. It was perfect. We chatted a bit, and I then went outside and found a place out of the wind and in the sun.

From there, I had just eight miles to go to Peach Springs. I had crosswinds the entire way that forced me to pedal on some downhills, and to use my lowest gears on a long grade that seemed to go on for over a mile. But I didn't mind. The distance I set for myself today was just right.

I cruised down the hill into Peach Springs feeling good. It was 12:30 p.m.

I had experienced a mix of conditions today that challenged me but didn't tax me too much. I'd have time for a nice lunch, for some laundry, and to write my journal.

Peach Springs is an interesting place. It's been through booms and busts tied to wagon trains, the railroads and Route 66.  It sits on the lands of the Hualapai Tribe, which is working to revive it by attracting tourists to nearby activities and attractions in the Grand Canyon. The Hualapai Lodge I'm staying in is part of that effort. The only drawback to the lodge's success, however, might be the railroad. Like everywhere else I've been on this trip, BNSF trains run through town numerous times, day and night. At the hotel's front desk, they offer earplugs to guests who can't sleep through the train  noise.

Tomorrow I'm headed 60 miles to Ash Fork. Lighter, more favorable winds are forecast. And it's going to be cold.

I hope I enjoy it as much as I did today.

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

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