7th Inning Stretch

As I write this on 8/29, I'm just heading out for my next grand adventure with friends Bob and Tony. A 9 day fullpack backcountry hike through the Sierra Mountains of California, and, weather, legs, and lungs permitting, a summit attempt of Mt Whitney, the highest peak in the continental US. This will be my second attempt; last year we got injuried and weathered out. Sometimes the mountain wins.
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When I get back I'll continue with the pulitzer award winning Mexico-Canada bike relay story, and then have our summer road trip through AZ/UT/ID/MT (our 48th and 49 states!) story, and finally the Sierra's story. Then, unfortunately, I have to start looking for some work to rebuild the coffers from our year sabbatical. Amazing how fast the cash goes away!
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Lots more to come. See you in a couple of weeks, assuming the bears leave me alone.
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"On the road again" Lumpy out

Holy Uphill Batman!

TOP: Looking up Douglas Pass...intimidating! You can just see a bit of the road pix center. The climb was something like 25 miles.

2nd: Oh, let's just make the climb even MORE fun

3rd: And this was a high-speed switchback. Some were marked 5mph. Note the stellar road texture also

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The am team caught up to Tom and Larry just at the base of the climb up Douglas Pass. Cliff took the wheel and started hammering up the mountain. Well, hammering in the sense of climbing about 5mph, out of the saddle, and crying in pain like a republican at an obama rally. He said it was the first time he can remember totally running out of gears, and he had on a 27x27 I think.

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Hours later, as he approached the summit, there was FINALLY a turn-out, and the SUV was able to put Karen down for the handoff. She got to pound out the last 2 switchbacks and take the summit; probably deserving, as Cliff just whined too much to really deserve the summit on his own. Since Tom wasn't there to ride out the downhill on the flip side, Jerry took it. 2 hours or so later he was finally into the valley and the team continued cycling through, wondering where the heck their relief was.

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Well, it turned out that the RV could only climb and descend the hill at about half the pace that the bikers could go, so it took us HOURS to catch them. Switchbacks in an RV are not a lot of fun. We finally got to them deep into the valley, just in time for the next major climb. But first, Marco Polo had to go and get lost again, totally missing a turn. In his defense, it was easy to see how he could have mistaken the big SOUTH sign for north, as he headed soutbound towards Mexico. Took some time to find him this round; he had stopped for lunch and bought some pretty rocks from a native woman.

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I meanwhile got the next big mountain, and had good legs all the way to the summit...which turned out to be a false summit, but I'm claiming glory rights anyways. Not often that I actually pull my fat up to the top of anything more than an in-n-out drive through.

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PS>>>Cliff was now a bag of shit for 2 days also. That's apparently the benchmark from these big climbs.

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Summits: Lumpy 1, Cliff 0; not that I'm keeping track or anything.

It's a Grand Old Junction

TOP: "Posh" Ray making another world-class dish

2nd: Posh and Flash pretending they're still in love. We all know that she's just after his millions to expand her MaryKay business...what a golddigger

3rd: The mormon leading the athiest up the serpent trail. This can not go well for one of us

4th: Tom telling everyone about the old days when he had a hairline. Note the laughter on the young-uns just humoring the senile old guy.

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We made Grand Junction and called it a day a bit earlier than customary. We were staying at our friends Larry "Flash" and Peggy "Posh" Hall's house, and Posh was putting on a fabulous dinner spread for the whole crew. We did Kilimanjaro last fall with Flash and Posh; they're the fittest 60 year olds I've ever met (looking about 35 however), and they totally kicked our butts up that mountain. It was humbling. Posh has boundless energy, and Flash, well, sometimes it's hard to even tell if Flash is awake. Maybe the mormons should make a caffeine exception in his case...

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Peggy had her son and daughter-in-law over to meet us (who brings the family to meet me? usually they send them away to another state!) and they were total fun. Except it was really painful to him when Posh told him that I was really her favorite, and that she wasn't really even his mother. Sometimes private conversations should just stay that way I think :-)

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We scattered all over the house for a few hours of sleep; I was on the couch, jerry on the floor in the workout room, tom in his customary fetal position on a deck chair, and karen, well, karen just sat up and ran drug discovery simulations on her pc all night. She's wicked compulsive.

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As if dinner wasn't enough, Posh made a HUGE breakfast, and then Flash and Tom rolled out on their bikes to start off the day. They were going to put in the first 30-40 miles, and then the SUV would reel them in and launch the am team. This was the end of the line for Tom, as he had to be back home for work tomfoolery (he's actually where that word came from) and would miss the finish of the trip. Flash of course left Tom for dead on the side of the road, such that he couldn't even pedal the downhills. At his customary 15mph.

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While the pm team grabbed some more sleep and did their laundry, Posh and I went over to the Colorado National Monument and did some hiking. We did the serpents trail, a meandering few miles of uphill with a kick-ass view of the entire Grand Junction river valley. One of the park rangers tried to take me home with her, but Posh thankfully kept her away. Nothing scares me more than a 6 foot blonde with a badge. And two six-shooters if you catch my drift.

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Noonish the pm team loaded up the RV, said our goodbye's, and started chasing down the am team. Little did we know what lay ahead...

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"OK, I'll become mormon if I get fed like that everyday" Lumpy out

Good Afternoon Dolores

TOP: There's a place I know where the hipsters go, called Bedrock, twitch, twitch (who's old enough to remember that little dittie?)

2nd: Looking downstream in the Dolores river valley

3rd: Ben hammering the downhill. OK, so he's a ballpeen hammer...

4th: One of the many rock formation along the canyon walls. This one was a really cool cave.

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The pm team switched off at the start of the dolores river valley, and what a run we had. No mountains for us!

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The road meandered alongside the river for about 100 miles, almost always just a slight downhill, and after about 20 or so miles we picked up a tailwind also. Conditions could not have been more perfect for a bike ride. Nearing the end of the canyon, the road dipped significantly and it was time for the fat man to take the helm. I topped out at 52mph and was basically about 50mph for 10 minutes. What a way to chew up the mileage in a hurry! We had to get to Grand Junction, where a great meal awaited us at our friend's house.

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"Cannonball" Lumpy out

The Pyrennes, er LaSalle Mountains

TOP: The road gets a little bit nicer, if you LIKE STONES!

2nd: Finally rid of the stones...if you LIKE DIRT!!

3rd: The long and winding road...looking downslope from LaSalle Pass

4th: View from the pass into LaSalle Valley..priceless.

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We left early morning from Blanding, a bit wetter for the wear but happy to finally be out of the heat of the deserts of Arizona and Utah. Now, on to our first set of mountains, the LaSalle's. They straddle the border between Utah and Colorado, and while not technically part of the Continental Divide, they were certainly formidable in their own right.

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The am crew quickly knocked off the miles to the start of the climb, and luckily, they didn't loose Marco Polo early this day. Luckily I say, because Marco got the start of the climb...and the middle of the climb...and most of the top of the climb. It was in fact a masterful assault on the Pass, and John deserves kudos for knocking it off. Of course, then he was a bag of shit for about 2 days following.

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In possibly the worst luck of the entire trip, Tom "A rolling stone gathers no speed" Gallagher got the massive downhill coming off the pass. It consisted of about 20 switchbacks, at 9-15% grade. In fact, there were places where Tom actually exceeded 15mph...a huge reach for him on a downhill. As I came over in the RV hours later, I was in tears...truly, if a downhill was ever made for me, this was it!

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As Tom leveled off in the valley below, (and about 30 minutes before he could physically remove his grip from the brake levers), he then came upon a lovely road construction project...lovely if you're a geologist that is. First a couple of miles of stone. Then, a couple more miles of dirt. If not for the semi-cute, barely literate flagman that gill had the opportunity to, let's call it "date", that whole section of road would have been a total loss.

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The am crew cut through the looping valley, and we finally caught them alonside the dolores river. Rivers good; if you're heading downstream, which we were. More in next post.

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"Downhill paradise lost" Lumpy out

Cliff and the cliff

No pix here, but one great story I forgot. A group is out on the road and Cliff is driving the RV, somewhere north of Flagstaff. He pulls over on the mountainside to await a handoff...and promptly pulls the right 2 wheels of the SUV over the edge of the cliff. Gill rides in for the handoff, decides she wants no part of this scene, and rides onward. We track her down a bit later and she says "the other car had a spot of trouble" so she biked on. Never thought to mention that the SUV was dangling OFF A CLIFF!!!
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Anyhow, the boys wait roadside and are (incredibly) lucky enough to flag down a redneck in some monster truck type vehicle. He's just giddy...a bunch a sissy looking lycra clad boys who were too stupid to park their truck ON THE ROAD. He pulls up, takes a look and says "no problem here she-males". Pulls out a massive chain out of his truck bed, wraps it around the SUV's axle, and revs his truck. The SUV pulls right back up the cliffside, and onto the road.
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The boys give him $20 for beer, he's one happy camper, and we're all left with a good story to tell over beers to our buddies.
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Cliff^2 is not a good thing....

Monument Valley

TOP: The Navaho twins tower over Blanding

2nd: A lonely monument arising from the valley floor

3rd: Sandstone spires galore

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As we left the Navaho reservation at the Arizona-Utah border, we rolled into Monument Valley

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monument_Valley

Monument Valley is the consumate Western movie panorama...an endless valley floor with jutting multi-colored monuments thrusting upwards into the sky. We were awed by the vistas, and by the utter loneliness of the region. It took us hours to bike through it, and there were times when we went 20-30 minutes without ever seeing another vehicle. And, the heat returned, so we were pretty beat up by the time we ended the day in Blanding. Blanding is famous for, well, nothing. They had pretty much nothing there...not a diner, not a grocery, not a public building. But, they did have the Monument Valley RV park.

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It was a beautiful evening, so a few of us decided to sleep outside. John in the screened tent sans tent fly, and cliff and I under the stars. It was an awesome night, with a meteor (perseids?) in full bloom, green meteors continually shooting across the sky. A light breeze swept through the trailer park relieving us from the heat beating we took during the day. We all drifted off to sleep.

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That is until about 3am, when a MASSIVE rainstorm blew in. All of a sudden I'm lying there and I feel something on my face. I'm thinking that Cliff has taken that time to pee on me, but no, it's just god relieving himself. Like he was on a huge bender. And running on a treadmill. From the time it took me to run the 20 yards from my sleeping pad into the RV I was totally soaked. So I curled up on the floor of the RV and just passed out; cold, wet, and sleep deprived. John and Cliff got the tent fly erected and they huddle in there the rest of the night.

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"Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink" Lumpy out

Down the Flagpole

TOP: Lonely cowpoke searching for a ride

2nd: Tom and Cliff execute a high-speed handoff. Well, Cliff was at high speed anyways

3rd: After day 4 we FINALLY got Karen off the margaritas...well, at least into the cheaper tequila

4th: Ben burying a downhill cliffside. Note that the earth has more color than Ben's hair

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Following our tough day climbing up into Flagstaff, we had a lovely day coming down. It was basically 6 hours of downhill, all the way through the Navaho Indian Reservation, and then into Monument Valley. But, it was oftentimes a long, lonely stretch of road.

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Luckily we had Ben's ipod loaded with about 10 million songs. I personally sang Roger Miller's classic "King of the Road" 17 times, until the point where they threw me out of the SUV. After a while you just have to make your own fun. We painted the RV so it looked like a covered wagon, to see if we got attacked by the Navaho...they didn't get the joke, and just threw bottles of booze at us.

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The one really sad thing was every time we stopped, we were hustled by drunk indians...just like the ugly stereotype. It's a terribly legacy that we've left our predecessors, and I don't know how to overcome it....

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"Wooden Nickle" Lumpy out

RVvvvvv it up!

TOP: Gary practicing for his Playgirl layout

2nd: Jerry taking his turn at the wheel. He has a little dyslexia problem

3rd: Marco (yes, he really bought that hat with him) trying to entice a bike into his bed. He gets lonely easy

4th: Did I happen to mention that it was 111 freakin' DEGREES?

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We rented a 30 foot RV for the trip; unlike 10 years ago, the gas was a wee bit more expensive...about $1,000 more expensive!!!! Thanks George....I'm not a big RV fan having done the whole camping thing with my parents as a kid, but it's really the way to go when you've got a group, beer that has to be kept chilled, and over 40 year olds with bladders the size of peanuts. We packed all our food, gear, bikes, and pride away in the underbelly, the cabinets, on basically on every surface, and off we went this morning from Phoenix. The morning crew of me, ben, and jerry (the cyclists, not the ice cream gods) hit the ground running. Then, of course, we remembered that we were biking to the border, and had to go back and grab our bikes. By 9:00am it was already well over 100 with no relief in sight. Luckily, we had the whole day to climb...and climb...and climb. Yup, 6,000' to Flagstaff, with god knows how many dips in between just to get us more elevation.

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When we got into Flag, the only RV place left with spaces was Black Barts RV park and Broadway emporium. Apparently (who knew?) it is quite famous in dem dere parts, since they have a steak house on premise, and all the waiters and waitresses sing Broadway songs all night long. Basically, everything I could ask for in lodging...trailer trash chicks and Broadway music. I was in heaven. The best was that the RV showers were inside the restaurant rest rooms. So I get out of my shower dripping wet, drying my manly stuff, and here comes some old guy in from the restaurant to do his business. What can you say at a time like that..."Welcome to my world...and was your steak prepared to your liking!"

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A good night's sleep was had by all following the long day in the saddle, and we bedded down with visions of Navaho's and Monuments in our heads. Which beats Navaho's and tomahawks I guess...

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"Yellowbellied Bart" Lumpy out

This is the Sign Marco Missed...Really...

No Way! Nogales

TOP: Tom at the Nogales border crossing into Mexico

2nd: Sunrise over Nogales. Note the mexicans sneaking in in the photo lower right. They're dressed as cactus

3rd: John "Marco Polo" Coble takes his first wrong turn. Clearly you can see why he thought this was a road...

4th: "The homeland security probe was this wide" yells Tom at the border as he tries to re-enter the US

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Friday morning arrived bright and early for the am crew. Tom, John, and Cliff were to head to Nogales from Phoenix for a sunrise start, while Jerry and I picked up Gill, Ben and Karen at the airport (why can Boston people never be on time?), and then drove to Mesa to pickup our rental RV. Then, we would rendezvous with the am crew sometime in the afternoon and switch teams. Or so we planned...

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We had concocted a plan to tell the 3 latecomers that Cliff had crossed the border to get a better picture, and that homeland security wouldn't let him back in without his passport...which was still in phoenix...so we would have to drive the 3 hours to the border to get it to him after we had done all our other chores and RV pickup. We went on and on about what a dope Cliff was, and amazingly enough, nobody argued the point. In fact, his loving little sister kept saying "just leave his sorry butt in mexico". Over and over...

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Anyhow, they at least had the common sense not to cross the border (EDITORS NOTE: remember this statement for the end of the story at the Canadian border if a few days...) and got a relatively early start. Leg one was Nogales to Tucson, a fairly minor up and down before the heat of the day. Uneventful, except for the fact that tom's bike blew up, and they lost about an hour trying to get it all fixed. For those who know tom, it is HIGHLY unusual for him not to have a mechanical device in tip-top condition at all times, so we were all stunned. At least he didn't need a key for the bike.

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Leg two was Tucson to Phoenix, and this was a different story. It topped 110 degrees pretty quickly, and within minutes of heading out of Tucson, John made a wrong turn. It's pretty easy to see why, since there was only two roads and one of them had a 50 FOOT TALL SIGN that said "PHOENIX --->". But, he missed it...probably thinking about his new mortgage payment or something.

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They found him a while later, somewhere around the New Mexico border, and reset. Then, he got lost again. At this point, they put cliff on the road, as they figured that he could at least find his way home to phoenix.

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Meanwhile, the other 5 of us headed over to Mesa to pickup the RV. We had a 2:00 appt to check-out, and, true to their word, by FOUR O'CLOCK they finally had our RV ready. It was not a pretty scene...I've never been sweared at that much in spanish before. So by the time we finally got to the am crew somewhere south of phoenix, it was about 5:00...and they had been on the road in 110 degree temps for something like 10 hours. They were, in the words of John "Boiled like a pot of lobsters". Add the fact that the threesome are the white boys of the trip, and that the term paleface no longer applied. Not enough sunblock in Arizona to save those 3 from burning.

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We swapped out teams, finished off the night with a big pasta dinner at Cliff's house, and I lulled myself to sleep on his couch. Tomorrow, we start the big climb from Phoenix (~ 1k') to Flagstaff (~7k')...should be a doozy.

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Par-boiled Lumpy out

Mexico-Canada Bike relay: The Beginning

TOP: But it's a dry heat...

2nd: Thanks to Bush, inflation is so bad that two buck chuck now costs three bucks!

3rd: Can't do a bike trip without a little tequila. This is the 1 GALLON size patron silver. Lasted us nearly 3 days...

Well, here we go, off on our bike relay from the Mexico border to the Canadian border. 10 years ago for my 40th birthday, I dreamt up some stupid idea to bike from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean. In a week. So, myself and 5 of my friends - Cliff, Gill, Tom, Chris, and Jerry - all made the trip a reality and we had an awesome time of it. For my 50th bday this summer I wanted to repeat the journey across Canada, but the logistics proved insurmountable with just a week of vacation, which is what most of the candidates could allocate for the ride. So, we elected to bike from the Mexico border to the Canadian border. And just to make it more interesting, we thought we'd do it basically along the spine of the Rocky Mountains. Through arizona. In the middle of summer. In the words of my beloved sister-in-law Esmerelda the she-witch, "And yet, your friends keep doing the things that you ask of them. They should all have lobotomies".

This year's crew will be 4 repeats from the Pacific-Atlantic trip,;Gill "Lucy" Burriack, Tom Gallagher, Jerry "Festus" Erb all from Rochester, and Cliff Anderson from Phoenix, along with 3 new riders, Ben Bembenek and Karen Anderson (cliff's sister) from Boston, and John "Marco Polo" Coble from DC. Ben worked with me in Boston, John likewise out in SanDiego before recently relocating to DC (he needs his head examined), and Karen basically is my lone groupie and follows me around everywhere.

John and I rendezvous'd a few days early in Phoenix to help Cliff re-assemble all the bikes and get the shopping done. Doing that without someone as a sanity check was a bad idea, as we had to go to 3 stores and basically rent a u-haul to get all the groceries and booze back to cliff's house. We filled his living room nearly floor to ceiling. Given that John and Cliff are about 130 lbs each (maybe together?), I was the clear beneficiary of that little adventure. It rarely topped 111 during the afternoon, so we kept our sweaters on most of the time. Or not. Frankly, I sweated my cojones right off the first day. Well, it will at least make me lighter on the bike!

After a couple of days of prep work, the bikes were ready to go, the rental SUV was loaded, and we eagerly awaited the other 4 riders arrival into Phoenix on Friday. Till then, all we could do was eat mexican food and drink margaritas...man, I hope they NEVER show up.

"Cactus" Lumpy out