Odie, Bob and I piled into the OREM around 7am today and made our way to the previous day’s termination point in Pine Valley, Ca. The temperature was 34 degrees, and waiting for Odie and I were several long, steep climbs that would eventually lead us over the summit and down into California’s Imperial Valley and 70 degree temps! We bundled up and launched Hank the Tank shortly after 8am, and within half a mile we were suffering through the first big climb of the day, which ended up being a blessing as we quickly warmed up. Of course every big climb in the mountains comes with a big descent on the other side, and soon we were careening downward over rough asphalt and not pedaling for four miles. By the time we reached the point where the road flattened out, we were even colder than at the start. My fingers were so numb I was struggling to shift gears and work the brakes, so we pulled over by a bush to relieve ourselves and attempted to warm up our extremities. We were only a little over 7 miles into the day’s ride at this point, and it seemed in that moment that it was going to be a looooooong day. But then The Bob showed up in the OREM and told us to climb in for a break. He had the heater cranking, and I don’t think I’ve appreciated anything in a long time as much as I appreciated the warm sanctuary he had brought to us. We sat inside for 20 minutes or so, and as much as I didn’t want to, we finally left the warmth and got back on the bike. It was still cold, but somehow it had become more tolerable.
As the day progressed, we continued to climb and descend, climb and descend, eventually falling into a quiet rhythm that not only kept us warm enough, but also started quickly piling on the miles. We reached a high point at the Golden Acorn Casino around 10:30, took another 20 minute break, and then enjoyed a long descent into Jacumba, Ca, where the sun was shining and the temps cracked into the 50’s. Along the way we met two brothers, Von and Wendell, who were also on their way to Florida on bicycles. They had a “dead head” air about them, were probably in their 60’s, and didn’t appear to have trained much. They said they were planning to “stealth camp” all the way to Florida with an occasional hotel stay here and there. Nice guys, kindred bicycle spirts for sure, and I wish them well along their journey.
Around noon we reached the point where we would make the final descent. This required us to ride on the shoulder of Interstate 8, which in this particular area is a winding serpent of concrete and asphalt interspersed with 6% grades, tight curves, and a buttload of fast moving vehicles. The Bob was waiting for us at the onramp, and we stopped for a moment to gather ourselves. The wind was howling, and I was pretty nervous about getting blown about and perhaps into the traffic lanes, but as it was the only way down, we gave The Bob a salute and started pedaling...and in about 3 seconds we were hurling along and dodging as best we could all the debris that accumulates along any roadside here in the land of plenty. I was braking constantly to keep our speed under 30 mph, my eyes tearing and blurring my vision, and I wondered what Odie might be thinking as we bounced and jostled our way down, down, down....the descent went on seemingly for an eternity, and at one point I spied a massive, deep pothole at the last second and missed it by about 4 inches. Nearing the bottom, The Bob passed us in The OREM and it didn’t seem he was going that much faster than we were! We eventually reached the exit onto Highway 98, stoked and relieved to be done with that portion of the day’s ride.
It was at this point that we experienced every bicycle rider’s wildest dream. Those same stout and gusty winds that had so recently threatened to end us on the just completed descent, although still very robust, had gained a consistent velocity and would be vigorously pushing us down the road. Without pedaling, we were hitting 29 mph for several miles, and the smallish hills we encountered were almost unnoticed. The surrounding landscape was desert, and the wall at our southern border was often less than a half mile away. Vehicle traffic was minimal, and it was nice to relax both body and mind and take it all in as the miles melted away. We reached Calexico around 4pm and actually pushed another 7 miles beyond it for a daily total of 85 miles. The Bob picked us up and took us to a Mexican restaurant on the way home, much needed and well deserved fuel for our tired bodies, and then we drove back to San Diego. We’ll be taking tomorrow (Monday) off to pack camping gear and supplies, do a little laundry, hang out with family and friends, before getting up early Tuesday and continuing on, this time not returning home until we finish the ride. So far, so good..
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