Desert, desert and more desert

Another view of the desert, on the way from

Lancaster to Victorville.

Desert, desert and more desert.
     ~Janie Braverman

Did someone say dessert?
     ~Reggi Coles

If Lance Amstrong can do it . . .

Yesterday, we rode from Santa Clarita to Lancaster.  I rode the first 8 or so miles with Jody, out of the city and toward Bouquet Canyon.  Jody rode 40 hard miles in the hills.

On the road to Lancaster.  Jody in the distance.

 

Donkeys, longhorns and buffalo.

Still on the road to Lancaster.

Today, we rode from Lancaster to Victorville.  Long flat road with a few rises.  Cool when we started about 5:20.  In the high 90's when we finished.  I rode the first 17 miles with Jody.  Stronger every day.

Desert, desert and more desert.  Beautiful.

 

Includes wild-assed bikers.

Yosemite Sam, in the desert.

Tomorrow we ride to the western edge of the Mojave Desert.  Tomorrow night is a blue moon.  We'll either be out in the desert howling at it . . . or in the motel, already asleep!

If Lance Armstrong can do it with one testicle . . .
     ~Peter Doran

. . . I can do it without any.
     ~Janie Braverman

Coyotes in Cali

From Jody: 

Riding, riding, and riding some more.

Monday Peter and I rode from Santa Barbara, with Janie driving The Little Darkness, loaded to the gills. We left just past 7:00, a little later than I’d like, but breakfast is important and the hotel started serving its complimentary fare at 6:30. Didn’t want to gobble too much, too fast as bikers travel by stomach as well as by leg. A happy tummy is important. And yes, Janie, I do mean to include drink as well as food. I know, I know, I never drink enough before or during bike rides, but I will, I promise. After twenty miles, the bike computer said we’d climbed 2300 feet, but were only 74 feet above sea level. Lots of rises and downhills. Totals on the route for the first day was forty five miles and nearly 4000 feet of elevation change. I later joined Janie for a return ride on the last several miles, along the bikepath sponsored by the Rotary Club of Ojai-West.

Rotary Club of Ojai-West sponsored park.

Day two started a bit earlier as we were a few miles out of Ojai when the sun’s diamond sparkle brilliance burst above a nearby peak. And then the first major climb of the day. I huffed and puffed to a lookout over the Ojai Valley, with marker courtesy of the Rotary Club of Ojai. 

The second day was longer and the road wound through dozens of sites that were home to nurseries, floral farms, orange groves and farms with pickers harvesting red peppers. We cycled about fifty miles and the elevation gain was around three thousand feet. Rode past the rear entrance to Magic Mountain, a Six Flags amusement park with rides that towered above its industrial neighborhood. Stopped at a traffic light, the bike’s computer showed the temperature a few feet above the asphalt was 104 degrees. Later, the computer said the day’s high was 97.

Janie accompanied me at the start of today’s ride. The streets of Santa Clarita are wide and bicycle friendly, for the most part. Some traffic on certain streets, but we had others mostly to ourselves. Perfect weather at the start and great enthusiasm. 

Photo by Peter Doran (www.pdoranphoto.com)

 

As we left town, the bike lane shrunk to a few fingers’ width, with a rock outcropping close by and Janie chose to relinquish the saddle for the familiarity of The Little Darkness. Two miles further, I heard the howls of coyotes. Didn’t get a chance to learn more of the source. Interested to see more, but not that curious with only two wheels of pedal power to keep my heinie away from canine teeth.

Bouquet Canyon is a rider’s paradise and most enjoyable in its lower portion. The two successive climbs were more challenging, but the day’s route was only forty miles and I took my time. Peter is a great photographer and managed to capture a few images of my better side.

Photos by Peter Doran (www.pdoranphoto.com)

 

Each climb ended with a rapid descent, the last coming into Lancaster, CA, our stop for the day. Lancaster has an unusual street naming convention, as we passed K-4 St., Avenue J-4, Avenue J-8 and Avenue J-15A. Hot and dry – when we left the restaurant after lunch, I started the car and its thermometer read 115. The reading climbed to 117 before settling at 113 when we returned to the hotel.

Coyote is always out there waiting, and Coyote is always hungry.
     ~Navajo proverb

Tishe yedesh

On Tuesday, August 28, we climbed out of the Ojai Valley, and rode to Santa Clarita.  Along the way, we passed a sign welcoming us back to Los Angeles County.  Sort of like being on the bus in Speed - the faster you go, the more you are still in Los Angeles.

The sag wagon.

Early morning, above the Ojai Valley.

(Photo by Peter Doran, http://www.pdoranphoto.com)

Jody, riding into the early morning light.

Jody, having a well-earned nap.

Stage 2:  50 miles on the bike; 3,905 to go.

Tishe yedesh - dal'she budesh. 
        ~Traditional Russian:  The slower you go, the further you get.

Yesterday . . .

Yesterday's photos are now up.  And here's today's promised video.  More later.

I can't go back to yesterday - because I was a different person then.
       ~Lewis Carroll

You Say Ojai, I Say Ohio

Stage One:  Goleta to Ojai (45 miles)

Today was our first real test on the road.  After the first of what will be way too many hotel breakfasts (at least the eggs were fresh as we were the first ones in, as soon as they turned on the lights), we loaded the GPS files into the laptop, fiddled with the new version of Microsoft Streets & Trips, and hit the road, climbing from Goleta to Ojai.  It was cool (jacket and long sleeve weather) when we set out about 7:15. Early on in the ride, Peter and Jody were checking mileage on the bikes' Garmins.  Peter: "Five miles down, 3,995 to go!"  Ha!  Good to have a sense of humor when the mountains rise ahead of you.

It's also good to have a sense of adventures.  Twenty minutes short of where the guys finally decided to make a pit stop, I couldn't wait any longer. Pulled up on the side of the road next to a solid fence, opened both right side car doors (front and back seats), and peed on the roadside. Scofflaw? Who, me?

As the sun rose, so did the temperature.  By the time we reached Ojai about four hours later, it was somewhere in the 90's, sunny and hot.

The ride itself was challenging for Jody, the hills plus the dry desert heat combining for a kick ass day on the bike.  Jody was a champ, hard up the hills and fast down them.  Job well done!

As for me, turns out that driving the sag wagon wasn't what we had expected.  As we left Goleta, I drove with the right hand wheels of The Little Darkness well over into the bike lane, flashers on, trailing the riders.  I drove a lot of miles that way.  Very light traffic, which was good.  What little there was tended to be patient drivers, passing first me and then the bikes with room to spare.  A few were impatient, a couple honked their horns (nope, that didn't get them anywhere), one wanted to know what the f&*k I was doing.  Yeah, well.  There were a few moments when I wondered that myself, but the more I drove, the easier it got.

Once we were on the last long climb of the day, I leap-frogged ahead, one to two miles at a time, found a turnout (I was constantly looking for shade - for myself and for the riders), and waited for them to either stop for drinks and snacks or ride by me again. 

Lots of fluids today, not so much food, during the ride.  Jody doesn't like to drink on the bike, but is beginning to see the wisdom of hydrating in the desert.  The wind is harsh in a way not seen at home in the heartland.  The wind in the Midwest can cut to the bone, driving chill up sleeves, down collars and crushing mittened fingers in its frigid grip.  Here in the desert west, the wind is insidious.  In the guise of a gentle breeze, it drinks the waters from the body, wicking away sweat, drying the eyes, stealing away saliva from the unwary, panting hard up the pass.  One cannot drink enough.  The smart ones try.

The connectivity here at Casa Ojai is not the best (even with the Hotspot), so I can't upload the photos tonight.  Here is what you will see tomorrow or the next day, when the reception is better:

                       Buzzards circling overhead, hoping for a meal.  To no avail - just a rest stop.

                       Jody and Peter climbing Casitas Pass

                       Lake Casitas

I also shot my first video of the bikes going by.  I turned the camera sideways for a vertical shot, but I can't figure out how to save it horizontally.  Gives one vertigo to view it, so I'll reshoot it tomorrow.  And . . . connectivity permitting, it'll be coming soon to a post near you.

After we checked into the hotel, and the riders showered, it was time for lunch.  Turns out the vegan restaurant featured food and drink but no air conditioning.  So Thai food it was, then Jody and Peter both napped.  I spent about an hour walking around in Ojai, which is part charming little town (a great shout out to the Ojai Village Pharmacy and Agave Maria, where the Mexican food is as good as the name) and part trendy, upscale tourist destination.  A little bit of split personality in a town of 7,500.  Around 4:30, with the temperature still high but not quite so unbearable, I went out on my bike for about 45 minutes on the local bike path.  Jody accompanied me, patiently riding what was a slow pace for him.  I know I'll get stronger every day I ride, but the fact remains:  getting back in shape at any age sucks.  Getting back in shape in one's fifties sucks a lot.  Getting back to shape on a ride across the USA . . . let's not even go there, at least not tonight.  Four bottles of water and one Corona Light later, I'm feeling rehydrated and ready for my own sleep.  No nap for the sag wagoneer, at least not today.  We leave tomorrow around six, at the temperatures are expected to be over 100.

Tomorrow we ride Ojai to Santa Clarita.  Today, we're 45 miles down, 3955 to go.

"Where I come from, we spell it O-H-I-O."
         ~Unidentified ignoramus, in response to being told Jody was from Iowa.  No kidding. 

Time and Tide

Cool morning today (enough for long sleeves), heated up by 10:00 am.  After a good night's sleep, we reorganized and repacked the luggage and then the car, sorted out the bikes, had a lesson on the Garmin for Bikes, made the plan for tomorrow morning, went grocery shopping.

We had lunch at The Natural Cafe - best vegetarian tamales ever - thanks, Rachel, for the suggestion.  A couple of last minute items at the local REI (why, oh why, wasn't there a Swiss army knife in The Little Darkness?). 

 It was good to have a day to regroup. Time is on our side, today and all the days to come.

Although naps beckoned us both, we put on our cycling gear, pedaled to the Pacific Ocean, and - in the time honored tradition of RAGBRAI (look it up, if you don't know) - dipped the back wheels of the bikes into the water in the west, marking the beginning of the ride.

Jody dips his back wheel in the Pacific at Goleta Beach, CA"

We were greeted with a hearty "Go Hawks!" by a man walking his dog on the beach.

 

Jody and Janie, with the back wheels in the Pacific, Goleta Beach, CA

 

Sandy feet at Goleta Beach, CA





 

 

 

Tide and time wait for no man.

        ~Unknown

Time Zones and Syntactic Ambiguity

Wednesday, we flew over the Rocky Mountains, from LAX to CID.  Today, we flew over the Grand Canyon, from CID to LAX, where we met Peter Doran of Destination Cycling in LA.  Then a drive through LA traffic (still crazy, after all these years), then up the coast to Santa Barbara.  Everybody is tired.  Nobody likes time zone changes.

Time flies like an arrow, but fruit flies like a banana.
         ~Groucho Marx (and if it wasn't him, it should have been)

Where’s Waldo Canyon?

Or, How Jody and Janie Went from Iowa City to California with the Car and the Bikes

This post is the story of the first leg of our journey – moving the car and the bikes from Iowa City to California.  It’s about Waldo Canyon, playing Where’s Waldo? and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

The logistics of a three to four month bicycle ride across America are complicated.  Very complicated.  It’s like playing a four-dimensional game of Where’s Waldo?.  If you want to play, read the whole post, and things will begin to become clear.  If you just want to jump to the journey, look at the pictures.   (Many of these aren’t actually our pictures – some of them are on the laptop, which is in the garage in LA, which is where the bikes are today . . . I did say it was complicated.  I wasn’t kidding!  I’m writing this from my office in Iowa City, knowing that I have to go home and do laundry before we fly back to LAX tomorrow morning.  I’ll start posting our pictures when we get back on the road.)

When we decided on July 9th that we would go in 2012, we had a lot of planning to do in a little over five weeks.  We had family coming to work and coming to visit.  We had the massive changeover of apartments that occurs every year in Iowa City, driven by the academic calendar.  We had work commitments, some of which couldn’t be moved.  We had to figure out the route, the timing, the bikes, and a myriad of other matters, large and small.  Who would watch the house?  (Thanks to Theo, Mary, Jim, and Phyl.)  Who would harvest the tomatoes and peppers?  Where would we spend the High Holidays?  (Santa Fe and Denver.)  Which vehicle would we take? 

Questions started to come from family, friends and co-workers.  Some of the simple answers: 

The route:  The set points of the route are Santa Barbara, Las Vegas, Santa Fe, Denver, Iowa City, New Orleans, Savannah – everything in between is negotiable. We are driving car with the bikes on it to California, riding across the country, then driving the car with the bikes on it from Savannah to Iowa City at the end of the ride.  We will dip the back wheels in the Pacific and the front wheels in the Atlantic.

The professionals and the sag wagon:  We have professional assistance with the routes (a big shout out here to Joe Tonon, Peter Doran at Destination Cycling http://destinationcycling.com/ where the home page says:  “Does your bike dream?  Let the fantasy begin . . .”).  Peter will ride the first ten days with us.  There will be rest days along the way.  Jody will ride each segment of the route.  Janie will ride the beginning of each day, turning around early to return to the car and move it to that night’s stopping point. 

The bikes and other equipment:  Jody is riding a new Surly Disc Trucker touring bike.  He also brought his Trek road bike as a backup in case of mechanical problems with the touring bike.  The third bike is my new Trek hybrid (a 7.5 FX WSD for the bike geeks among you).  It’s an on-going game of three-dimensional Tetris for the car.  We’re learning every day, every time we load and unload.  We have a rack on the back of the car that holds three bicycles.  In Denver, we had a roof rack with luggage carrier and fourth bike rack installed.    

More details:  No, we are not camping.  If Jody has a mechanical or other issue on the road, we’ve got our cell phones and Janie will drive out with all the equipment in the car to provide assistance as needed.  Yes, we are excited about the trip.

The Trip to California:  On Tuesday, August 14, I flew to Denver.  On Wednesday, August 15, Jody drove The Little Darkness (yes, we name our cars – that’s my Volvo V50 station wagon) to Denver with three bikes and most of our equipment, supplies and clothing.  Jody called me from the road to tell me he had good news, bad news and worse news.  “What’s the good news?”  “I got everything in the car.”  “What’s the bad news?”  “There’s no room for Peter in the car.”  “What’s the worse news?”  “There’s no room for you in the car!”  Yup.  We’re learning every day.

We spent time with friends and family, and time out for a Murder Mystery dinner (Jody’s Chanukah gift to me):

 

Jody and Janie at the Lumber Baron’s Production of Icing Bridezilla!

No, Janie did not get to keep the bicycle helmet with the fancy flashing light, although she would have liked to!

On Sunday, August 19, we departed for Bryce Canyon, Utah.  We took the stunningly scenic route over Vail Pass, through Glenwood Canyon and on into Utah.

 

                                          Glenwood Canyon

On our way to the tiny town of Tropic, Utah (we spent our first night on the road in this town of 490, a few miles from the entrance to Bryce Canyon), we passed through Red Canyon State Park, where a paved bike path follows the road for about 12 miles.  Red Canyon has much of the same stunning red rock as Bryce Canyon, but on a much smaller scale.

 

We entered Bryce Canyon National Park that night at about 7:30.  We stopped in at the Visitors Center to chat with the rangers and pick up maps.  From there we drive in twilight up the main park road to the top of the park.  The views are spectacular.  We saw deer and pronghorn antelope within feet of the side of the road.  We saw the prairie dog village and a sign warning of black bears scavenging in trash cans.  Signs everywhere warn of rough trails and that one should stay in the car in the event of lightning.  Miles in the car:  about 575.

Early the next morning, Jody rode that same road, 34 miles total up and back, with a 1200 foot elevation gain/loss, approximately 9100’ at the summit.  The lower part of the road undulated over increasingly steep rises and falls, with the last few miles a steady and winding climb. 

Jody's bike at the top of Bryce Canyon

Jody at the top of Bryce Canyon

I drove back to the rest area at the top of Red Canyon State Park and rode 10-12 miles on the paved bike path, a mere 7777’ at the summit.  I met Jody at the Visitors Center and we took a last short drive into the park, where we walked out on Bryce Point.

 Jody and Janie at Bryce Point

We left Tropic early in the afternoon, headed for St. George, Utah.  Garmin recommended that we return to the highway, but we had made good use of the maps from the Visitors Center and the maps on the back of the placemats at The Pines, where we had eaten dinner the night before.  Instead of the highway, we took the road less traveled, south to the east entrance of Zion National Park.  We didn’t ride the bikes in Zion, but the drive from the east entrance to the south entrance is not to be missed.  We passed Checkerboard Mesa, which reminded both of us of Jabba the Hut.  We passed a pair of cyclists, their bikes loaded with panniers, huffing and puffing their way up the twisting road to the tunnel.  At that point, we were glad to be in the car and not on the bikes.  Miles in the car:  about 250.

Zion, through the sunroof of The Little Darkness

We spent Monday night, August 21, in St. George, Utah.  The next morning (Tuesday, August 22), we drove through the northwest corner of Arizona and into California.  There we got a good look at where we’ll be next week, the Mojave Desert:

A very unclear picture of the Mojave Desert - more to follow, in another post.

We drove into Los Angeles in the middle of the afternoon, where the traffic is not for the faint of heart.  We spent a lovely time with Jody’s sister Corky and brother-in-law Milt.  We then unloaded the bikes and most of our equipment and luggage in their garage.  After dinner, we drove through what those who live in LA consider light traffic (we considered it crazy), to our hotel at LAX.  We parked The Little Darkness in the hotel garage.  Miles in the car:  about 550.

 

Wednesday morning, August 23, we flew from LAX to Cedar Rapids, returning to Iowa City for a pair of business functions related to SouthGate’s 50th Anniversary.

 

I don’t know where Waldo is.  There will be some days when we don’t know where we are.  But I do know where Waldo Canyon, Colorado is.  Later, we’ll pass fairly close to where the devastating Colorado wildfires burned through beautiful Waldo Canon, near Colorado Springs.  Local and national news covered the fires throughout the summer.  We were inundated with images of destruction.  This is how Waldo Canyon looked before the fire.  This is how Waldo Canyon will look again.  This is how we prefer to think of it.

(Another blurry picture.  Sigh.  Still figuring out the technology.)

The Colorado Fire Relief Fund 2012 assists Colorado communities impacted by wildfires in 2012.  Contributions may be made through the Colorado Fire Relief Fund 2012 at The Denver Foundation:   www.denverfoundation.org

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 

On Riding in Denver and Bryce Canyon National Park

From Jody, on riding in Denver and in Bryce Canyon National Park:

 

Prep rides in Denver.  I keep falling down.  I rode the Clear Creek bicycle trail along Speer Blvd in Denver, from Broadway to Confluence Park.  I followed another rider who was zipping along at a quick pace.  He signaled and veered up to the street level exit.  I kept going, but the bike trail ended in a 90 degree turn to steps – or rocks to the creek.  I skidded on the sand covered concrete and laid out the bike.  My first accident of the year in Denver.  I righted the bike, returned to the path and continued my ride for a total of 35 miles.

Another Denver ride along the High Line Canal Trail, about twenty miles on level pea-sized gravel. Not very challenging, but slow going due to the surface.  I had previously stated I’d rather ride my bike on a freeway rather than gravel.  And now I can state I’d rather ride in peagravel than humpa-bumpa or cracked out asphalt.  All rides are relative.

My third Denver area ride, around the Cherry Creek Reservoir (twice) was highlighted by (a) a close up viewing of Bambi’s daddy replete with majestic rack, and (b) observation of two bikers greeting each other at a street/path intersection, with one falling over.  I rode up and commented, “I do that all the time.”  The fallen biker responded with a foolish grin, “Thanks, you made my day.”  It’s not always easy to extricate feet from cleats or clips.  My shins can attest to that.

Our first morning at Bryce Canyon, I anxiously awaited sunrise, at around 6:50 am.  We loaded the car and drove from Tropic, UT to the park.  The bike ride in Bryce Canyon National Park was exhilarating.  The only route for bikes is along the two lane roadway, some 17 miles from the park entrance to the top, with an elevation gain of 1200 feet to 9100 at Rainbow Point.  As I huffed and puffed during one particularly challenging stretch, I told myself there is no place else I’d rather be.  I greeted mule deer, pronghorn antelope and a blue grouse as well as spectacular scenery featuring hoodoos, an arch, and rock windows.  And a few other tourists.  Surprising how much less visited is Bryce Canyon early morning in late August.

Magic, Grace and Power

Tomorrow morning we leave Denver, headed for Bryce Canyon National Park. 

830 miles on the car.

Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it.  Action has magic, grace and power in it.

          ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (playwright, poet, novelist)

Bikes, Birthdays and Bucket Lists

It’s been a rough couple of years for our extended family:  pancreatic cancer, breast cancer, lung cancer.  Kidney cancer, colon cancer and another lung cancer, all resulting in the deaths of people we love.  Another breast cancer.  Ovarian cancer.

It’s also been a period of happiness and joy.  We bought a condo in Denver so that we could spend more time with my family.  Rachel got married to a man we all love; welcome to the family Scott!  Cokie’s canine pack continues to grow, and she’s going back to school next month.  (If you can’t find a homeopath you really like, send one of your children to school!)  Ari is living and writing in New Orleans – we don’t see her nearly as often as we would like.  Theo moved to Iowa City, where he works at a job he loves (how many of us get to say that?). 

More on joy later.  Today’s post is about how we came to this ride across America.  I (Janie) will be writing most of these posts.  I’m hoping to quote Jody accurately when the occasion calls for it!  And if I can figure out the computer, camera, Facebook and blog, you’ll be seeing pictures.  A special thanks here to Cokie for all her patient teaching; to Rachel for being such a good resource; to Theo for stubbornly insisting that yes, I can learn this stuff; and to Ari for Facebooking outside the box.  I might have eventually figured it out without you guys, but I would have been in my 90’s by then!

So, what do people do when they go to too many funerals in too short a time, and when they visit the sick more often than they would like?  We remember, we reminisce, we try to be better people, we go home and hug our spouses, we text our children and tell them we love them.  We try to be grateful for what we have.  We reflect on our own mortality.  I asked Jody what was on his bucket list.  “I want to ride my bicycle across America.”  “Seriously?”  “Yup.  Seriously.”

 

Much of what’s on my bucket list, I’ve already accomplished – I’ve traveled extensively (although not yet to Machu Picchu), I’ve written two novels (neither published; I think I’m going to have to write another before that happens), I’ve done two duathlons, I learned to swim in my 40’s (not well enough for a triathlon, but I’m thinking about that again), I earned an MFA in creative writing (fiction), I learned to cook.  I took the bar exam a second time.  No.  Wait.  That was on my ‘anti-bucket’ list!  There is something else bubbling to the top, but I’m not ready to write about that just yet.  And right now, it’s Jody’s turn.

In the summer of 2001, Jody had ACL surgery on his right knee.  So what did I give him for his 50^th birthday that year?  A brand new road bike.  I whiffed on his 60^th birthday last year.  I don’t remember what I gave him.  He probably doesn’t remember either.  But on his 61^st birthday this year, I did much better.  He’s riding across America.  I’ll be riding with him some every day (out a few miles, then back to the car), but for Jody, I’m driving the sag wagon.  Best gift ever?  I hope not.  Best gift so far?  Yes, I do think so.

Up to the age of forty eating is beneficial. After forty, drinking. 

~ From the Talmud