I managed to get myself organized and ready to ride by 10:45 am, such that it felt like I had a half day off.
It was overcast. The road was flat and busy since it was two Hwy's combined. I just turned on my music and enjoyed my favourite inspirational tunes. Saw the Salton sea in the distance.
The wind, was again, in my face, and it only got stronger as the day progressed. After I went through the Boarder patrol station I went due west on 78, and that's when I got hit hard. There was nothing but flat open space and the wind coming head on. At least the road was quieter. Didn't bother with music, couldn't hear it above the wind anyhow. I just put my head down and watched the white line.
I went through different emotions as I slowly made progress. (6-12 km/hr average), it was no different than climbing a mountain grade (which I'll have to do soon enough...)
Anger. Denial. Counting my blessings. Wondering how on earth this could work for good.
The highlight was my snack break every 45 minutes/hour.
Sometimes I just had to stop, couldn't take it anymore. But it was relentless.
I watched as dirt bikes raced around (so effortlessly) in the sand beside the road, and felt envious of the ease with which they could travel. The sun came out.
On the road marked with suffering, blessed by your name...
At about 54 Km's into my ride I pulled over, too tired of the wind to care, and parked by a road sign and just sat and read for 20 minutes to divert my attention, to forget my sad predicament for awhile.
But I get nowhere by sitting around.
So onward.
I began to realize I wouldn't be able to make it to my destination by sunset. All I knew was I had to press on, forward motion.
Stopped briefly in the nothing town of Octillo Wells, then onwards.
When I reached the cutoff to the campground where I had hoped to spend the night I noticed a map. No way could I make it, the sun was sinking fast. A couple stopped, asked if I needed directions... Or supplies. I needed neither, just more daylight hours, but was grateful they had cared enough to stop and ask. Them mentioned a small campground ahead though.
It got cold so I put on a sweater.
Then the sun disappeared behind the looming mountain range.
I knew I had to move if I wanted to be off the road by dark, but I was already so tired and the wind didn't let up.
At about 5:35 pm I noticed a truck that had passed me stop ahead, reverse a bit, then wait for me. The guy was concerned about my safety on the ever darkening road where there was no shoulder.
When he offered me a ride I didn't even think twice I was so worn out.
He loaded my bike nest to his dirt bike, gave me a drink from his cooler and we set out to find the campground. It must've been just a few more Km's up the road. We almost missed it.
At first the park ranger gave me a hard time, until I asked specifically for a Hiker/Biker site (which is one of the best things US state parks offer!)
I thanked Marcello and had my heavy bike unloaded, paid the $5 campsite fee (I could use the day use area), and in the fading light set up my little tent.
They had showers, but tokens were required. $1 for two tokens, which equals 4 minutes of delicious warm water. Best $1 I spent on this trip!
Then I sat to eat my chicken salad supper (that I had picked up the day before).
It was so lovely being in a place where I felt comfortable, safe.
I felt happy to be able to have arrived in a sense.
The wind whispered in the trees ahead and the moon rose full and beautiful. All was well indeed. Sunday, over the mountains into San Diego!
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- Eritia
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