Southern Tier Part 3

Southern Tier Part 3 - Day #6

May 30, 2023

Twin Knolls, AZ to Globe, AZ - 109 Miles

Start 6:20 AM Finish 8:16 PM

Total Duration 13:56

Moving Time 8:44

Stopped Time 5:11

Ascent 2903'

Descent 3801'

Tour Total 477 Miles

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/122947744

I slept well behind the water tank trailer off to the side of US 70. It got chilly in the night and I used my sleeping bag. I woke up with the sun and it was 5:20 AM. Oh right! Pacific time. It was a slow pack-up, and I sat on a large block of wood and enjoyed an ice cold Starbucks Frappuccino and a pack of Hostess Donettes.

Last night I had sat up on the truck and admired the sky to the west. The sunset, moon, and stars were fantastic. This morning after breakfast I rode back through the gate and took a right on US Highway 70 west. I was wearing my short-sleeve jersey and cycling shorts, and the air was chilly. A long shadow was cast out in front of me. Visibility was clear with haze in the valley to the west. There was occasional motor traffic. A pick-up truck towing a long trailer honked at me as he slowed down and made a left-hand turn. I later caught myself doing twenty-four in a sixty-five.

When I get back to New York and during the month of July, I'll be training for the Silk Road Mountain Race. Riding a bike out here in the Arizona desert is splendid! Riding a bike around New York City is less so. I stopped at a monument for Lorenzo and Seth Wright, who were killed a mile north of here by Indians whom had stole forty-five horses from early settlers. While pursuing the Indians the Wrights were ambushed in 1885.

The four foot shoulder had cracks in the asphalt with plants growing through, so I rode to the left of the white line. I was riding past scrub with patches of grass to the left and the right, and surrounded by distant mountains. I spotted a Black-tailed Jackrabbit with long ears. It was making ginormous hops, and it ran into a bush as soon as it saw me.

I ran into east-bound cyclist Savage from Del Norte Colorado. She was riding from San Diego to Silver City, and then taking the Great Divide route to Del Norte. She was doing a hundred miles a day and was planning to make Silver City today. She would be doing the European Transcontinental Race (9th edition) TCRno.9 in August. She said that she had preferred Tempe over Phoenix, and recommended the Velo bike shop in Phoenix. She had once spent two nights in Lordsburg during a hail storm when she hiked the CDT. She had the same dynamo charging set up that I just bought for my Fargo and said that it didn’t charge her phone. I would need to seriously test mine when I got home. Savage said it was hot out west. She would ride in the morning and in the evenings. She had lost her shirt, having stuck it in an ice cooler for thirty minutes. When she returned it was gone. A friend of hers from Thatcher gave her the shirt she was now wearing. We were both wearing Da Brims. She had a large orange flag sticking out into the motorist lane.

Down the highway I came to the junction of US 191. Safford was ten miles ahead and Globe was eighty-eight. Phoenix was a hundred and seventy-five on US 70 and US 60. I saw another Black-tailed Jackrabbit with long ears, running and hopping. I stopped to read a historical marker about General Kearney‘s army of the west, which was guided by Kit Carson.

As I rode in to Solomon, population 426, I passed the sign for the state prison. I noticed irrigation canals and crops. I was now in the Gila Valley, and crossed over the San Simon river. A pilot car for an oversized load passed me and gave me a tap tap. I pulled over to the far right of the shoulder as a giant piece of equipment passed.

I then entered Safford, population 9551, elevation 2920' and founded in 1874. I passed the Copper Steer Steakhouse, United Crane and Boom Rentals, Best Western Safford, Bushman Dental Care, A–1 Auto, Economy Inn, Trek RV Sales Parts and Service, Manor House Restaurant, and a Speedway gas station. I was on the Old West Highway, 'Where history still lives'.

Google Maps suggested Main Street Cafe for breakfast, and I was confused when I got there. The place was filled with people in motorized wheelchairs and individuals with disabilities. It seemed like I had walked into a clinic. 'Main Street Cafe' was painted on a mural, but perhaps I walked through the wrong door. I tried the adjoining building entrance and noticed another person in a motorized wheelchair and more disabled people. There were tables with placemats and menus, but it looked more like a clinic than a restaurant. I asked if it was a cafe, and was told to take a seat. I couldn't understand my first server and it was awkward. I was later waited on by someone whom I assumed was one of the organizers. Different disabled employees served me. I had eggs over-easy with bacon, whole wheat toast with raspberry preserves, coffee, and orange juice. Before leaving I used the bathroom to take a birdbath and clean my privates. The women running this place are saints.

I got confused when I left, and rode the wrong way out of town. After a mile I got my self straightened out. Thank goodness I wasn't uploading my gps files to ReLive! It was continuous sprawl all the way to Thatcher. I kept pedaling and later went through Pima. Along the way I spotted an old Army helicopter sitting on a wall with white Skeltons climbing up the outside.

It was a long hot road with irrigated fields to the right. I saw a billboard for Megs and crossed my fingers that it would still be open. So many of the businesses along this route had been shuttered. When I got to Fort Thomas, lo and behold Megs was open! I went in and set up a charging station at a counter by the window. I ordered a large lemonade and a BLT. The air conditioning was sublime and I didn't want to leave. It was 86° F with a four mph wind from the South/Southeast. I'd been enjoying a tailwind.

It was blazing hot when I left and it was hard to leave the air conditioning, ice machine, and bottomless lemonades. Bylas was eleven miles to the west and Phoenix was a hundred and forty-two. I stopped to read a historical marker about Geronimo. I crossed over Goodwin Wash and entered Geronimo, no populations listed. I entered the San Carlos Apache Indian reservation.

The next town was Bylas, population 1219. I had a little bit of cloud cover which I was enjoying. Military helicopters flew overhead, and I pulled into a Shell station which was part of Wickiup Village. I got myself a Pepsi and ice and filled up my water bottle with cold soda water and ice. As I was sitting out on the curb I met a guy who lived in town and was a Warmshowers host.

It was hot back out on the road and I was worried that my tires would melt on the broiling pavement. I crossed over the Gila River, which was brown and slow moving. I saw sign for Globe forty-one miles ahead. Today would be a century. It was 88° F and going up to 90° F. The wind had shifted and was now out of the southwest. I had a headwind, which was at least cooling me down somewhat. It was 2:25 PM and Globe was twenty-eight miles ahead. I’d pedaled seventy-five miles. I went up over a saddle and could see Saguaro cactus ahead on a hillside. These were stereotypic type of cactus with arms, that one would typically associate with Arizona.

I came to Junction with Indian Road #8. I was five miles out of Peridot. After a few water breaks I entered Peridot, population 1350. There was a warning sign for cattle on the road and open range for the next twenty miles. I Google mapped restaurants and found the Apache Burger two miles ahead. The temperature was scorching! I needed a place to sit down, enjoy some air-conditioning, and work on today’s report. I passed the Apache Cultural Museum, which was closed. I crossed over the San Carlos River and entered Gila County. There was an asphalt bike lane to the right of the highway, which I jumped in to get away from the motor traffic.

At Apache Burger the air conditioning wasn't working and there were large fans set up. I located a table with an outlet and ordered Fry Bread with beans, cheese, and onion, along with an Indian Taco and a large lemonade. The food was lousy. The bread was impossible to cut with the plastic cutlery. My Leatherman couldn't even slice it. I swatted houseflies as I gobbled down the food and edited this report.

A guy walked into the washroom while I was doing my birdbath fully exposed, which was embarrassing. It was 5:20 PM when I left Apache Burger and still hot outside. My thermos was filled with fresh ice and cold soda water. The crappy asphalt bike lane quickly ended and I was back out on US 70 W. It was 90° F with a twelve mile-an-hour wind out of the southwest. There was gravel to the right of the rumble strip so I rode on top of the white line. The shoulder was bumpy and I got honked at by a fuel truck for riding to the left of the white line. I’d noticed a lot a fuel trucks on US 70.

I crossed Gilson Wash and came to a junction with Indian Road #6. My paper map had indicated the road as State Highway 170 and my digital map said BIA 6. I passed a small airfield, Cutter Airport to my left. Railroad tracks rejoined the highway to the right and I came to the Palm Tree Oasis Apache Gold Casino and Resort. There was a Chevron station, Apache Prime Steakhouse, and The Point Sports Bar and Grill.

It was 6:40 PM and Globe was seven miles to the west. I had ridden ninety-six miles. I left the Land of San Carlos Apache Tribe and entered Globe corporation limits. The sun was low on the horizon, which meant that westbound traffic behind me was blinded. While looking down and using my brim to shade the glare, I focused twenty to fifty feet ahead on the pavement.

I came to the junction of State Highway 77 and the billboards for services began to appear. I read a sign that Globe was the home of Rose Mofford, Arizona’s First Lady. The population was 7330, elevation 3544', and the town was founded in 1876. I passed a Holiday Inn Express and it was tempting. I even stopped and looked up hotel prices. I hadn't slept in a bed since El Paso but was looking forward to one two days from now in Tempe. I approached the junction of US Highway 60 and came to the end of US 70. I was now on US 60 west.

I passed Irene’s Mexican, which Savage had told me about. I was still full from Apache Burger. The plan was to pick up some beer and find a place to stealth camp. The sun had gone over the horizon and the temperature became much more pleasant. It was getting dark and I turned on my front light. I stayed on US 60 and bypassed the historic downtown.

I rode through more sprawl and then stopped at a Shell station for a six pack of Goose Island, IPA, some Fritos, a bottle of Starbucks Frappuccino, a pack of Donettes, and a bag of ice. In addition, I filled up my water bottles. A motorist out front couldn’t believe that I was riding my bike cross country. He incidentally didn’t know that Florida was was on the east coast. He thought it was near California.

I noticed a giant copper mining operation in Clay Pool. It was brightly lit and I imagined churning machinery that I didn’t want to camp near. I took a right on Highway 188 heading north towards Roosevelt. It was much quieter than US 60. I needed to find a place to camp. It was dark, and I crossed a set of railroad tracks.

I noticed a small road that had been blocked by a chain link fence. I turned off my lights and went to inspect. The road led to a wash, and was closed to the public. I stripped down my bags and tossed them over the fence. As I was climbing over the chain-link, my shorts got caught at the the bottom of my crotch. At that very moment an oncoming motorist approached with its headlights beaming directly at me. I had to make a quick choice. Either evade the motorist's gaze and quickly jump thus ripping my only shorts. Or stay there, precariously straddling the top of the fence while methodically untangling the caught spandex. It was the second time today that I'd been caught in an embarrassing moment.

I rode down the dirt track and then passed through a barbed wire gate with a 'No Trespassing' sign. I found a place to set up my tent under some withered trees and was far enough away from the highway to evade notice.