Uncategorized


Dog Days in the Desert 4

cycle scoots.

cycle scoots.

So, let’s see, we were in Durango, loitering, as per usual. Do all my blug posts start out this way? Stink finished up the last post, we charged phones and pods and such, then eventually dragged ourselves out of the refreshing atmosphere of a REAL coffee shop (sorry McDonald’s, I’m actually NOT lovin’ it), and headed to, where else, but a grocery store. We were preparing to head in to what we figured was a food desert, so wanted to stock up on cans of beans. Chili beans, black beans, refried beans, pinto beans, you name it. Yes, our tent does have an unsavory smell, why do you ask?

As we were locking up the bikes outside (we have been very consistently locking our bikes ever since staying with Larry & Becky in Fayetteville, AR, as they told us their horror story of having their bikes stolen just two days from completing their cross country trip. So, every time we stop, we say, “In remembrance Larry & Becky” and lock up our bikes accordingly), when this gall rolls up and starts talking bikes with us.

She’s got crazy blue eyes (like, I seriously had to say, lady, your eyes are the exact color of your coat, which was straight aquamarine), her husband and her own a bike shop in town, and they’ve done bikepacking trips around Colorado before. I’m gunna say it again, we meet the coolest folks. Or, rather, it’s probably just true that most people are just generally cool people, once ya get to talking with them.

Anyways, we part ways, head inside, and start loading up on beans and apples and probably cookies knowing me. Around this time, Stink realizes that there was another package at the post office that we should have picked up, but alas, it’s evening and it’s closed by now. Dang, so we need to find a place to stay in town tonight, so we can pick it up in the morning…

Cue Blue Eyes. We lightbulbed that somewhere (hopefully still in the store) was this gal who would have biking connections and probably know of a warmshowers host we could stay with last minute. So, we haunt the aisles, scoping for her blue coat and eventually find her and I have to awkwardly/embarrassingly stumble out the words to asks if she knows a place for us tonight.

And she’s cool. Sandhya (we get her name now) calls her husband and assures that we can camp out at their place tonight, then invites us to share burritos for dinner with them. (We, too, were going to be eating burritos for dinner that night, but more of the cold beans straight from the can smeared on cold tortillas variety…). So we pick up some additions, avocado, tomatoes, tortilla chips, and meet her outside. Joey, her husband is out there now so we get introduced, then we bike out following Sandhya to get some cat food before heading home. I go in the pet food shop too, to get my dose of tiny kitty lovings, and then we’re all biking away to their house, like a parade of comically overloaded bicycles (she’s got groceries, plus a full bag of cat food strapped to her scoot).

We get to their house & it’s lovely, obviously, and showers are immediately offered (I wonder why…). Soon, we’re all cleaned up and delicious real food smells are wafting throughout the little house. We chat, eat burritos (which are as good as they smell), and snoop in their bookshelves, like ya do. Sandhya even happens to have vegan chocolate chip cookies and almond milk for dessert, so I’m in heaven. Also, they let us to laundry; double heaven. We set the tent up on the back porch and it’s this lovely crisp (the prefect adjective for it) fall night, with a few stars peeking through the clouds, and the high ridges of mountains encircling this cold Colorado town with their rocky arms. It’s a pleasure to live outdoors, I tell you.

In the morning, we’re up and packing out tent, making oatmeal inside, and trying out fine whole leaf tea, courtesy of our hosts. Eventually, we all bike out together and head in our separate directions. We hit up thee post office, where Stink’s Auntie Beckers has sent a small padded envelope containing none other that the lost and terribly missed Davey Crockett! (Also, some sweet goldfish stickers for me, totally going to apply them to my scoot).

Davy Crockett

remember when he went missing a few posts back?

Then, we head to where else, but the coffee shop, as we have plans to stop at the thrift store (need warm clothes) and Joey’s bike shop for a spare tube, and both of these fine establishments don’t open til ten, hence, loitertime. There’s a dog outside that we fall onto, with pets and coos, and talk with his human too. He’s a rescue from the rez, where there’s a lot of strays, which I’m both excited to see, and unexcited at the prospect of finding them hit on the side of the road, like I know we will. Once time has come, we head to the bike shop and find Joey & his friend puzzling over frame dimensions and doing trigonometry. They’re really into it, & I can tell Stink wants to join in.

Afterwards, it’s on to the Methodist Thrift Store, which is a wonderland of cheaply priced items. Stink finds some cozy clothes, and I grab a pair of pink jeans (whut) and ask about gloves, which for some crazy reason are only sold after Halloween. Bum, oh well. Finally, finally, we leave town… actually, after one more stop at the grocery store for snackies, and immediately we are climbing mountains.

It’s gorgeous, it’s chilly, it’s steep, it’s long, and I’m in love with it. I have a great panoramic video of some of the peaks, but Stink it making throwy-uppy sounds in the background so I think i may just keep it to myself. We climb for hours, and get little drizzles here and there, and work our way through some road work zones (we tend to get the “dead lane” all to ourselves in these one-lane-open road projects, so I’m cool with it).

Eventually we pull into Mancos, and stop at a grocery store/pizza restaurant. The rain looks like it’s ready to really break loose so we get the bikes under cover and while away the time sipping hot tea and Stink maws on these incredibly perfect and fragrant slices of pizza. I’m droolin. We hit Mancos at the perfect time, because the rain does come pouring down, and it’s no longer the fun warm ran of summer; it’s fall baby, and that means chill bill.

Eventually it lets off, ad we clamber back on the bikes and ride out to Cortez. We see a fellow tourist in the park at the beginning of town, so naturally we go bug him & see what he’s up to. Kyle, biking from Flagstaff, AZ to Mesa Verde (which we had just biked past that day, no wanting to go the 30 miles out of our way to actually see the place). We shoot the crap for a bit, then head on our way. We flip and flop back and forth over biking on, or finding a place to sleep in Cortez (really heading into desert country now, so we have to be careful about water) and eventually we go find a church and get “permission” from the choir practice folks to toss our tent up there for the night. Which is great because there’s porch lights and I can read, and Stink goes on a night walk to make a million phone calls.

We’re up early in the morning, as the church folk requested, and go to the grocery store near by to sip coffees, eat breakfasts, charge phones, and read in their little deli eating area. It’s nice, but we do eventually have to go back out into the cold, so we put on our brace faces and face the heat. Or lack thereof. But hey! I had scoped the map and there was a casino about 13 miles out, so, with that spurring us on, we scooted along to collect our free coffee an complimentary beverages.

It’s gorgeous out here, still, and, as we’re on the rez, I’m day dreaming of dogs all day. I’m missing little Beef (who I’ve decided his little rat ghost is accompanying me for the the trip) and really missing having the fellow to take care of. So I adopt this imaginary dog, who I’ve named Oto, and can pretend he runs along next to me and ponder ideas on how to keep him comfy and such. Turns out, imaginary dogs and ghost rats get along quite peacefully.

At the casino, it’s better than expected, and after plunging through the smoke filled lobby, we get to the free doughnuts (I can’t wait to get home and go get a vegan doughnut from Voodoo…) and coffee, an even find Gatorade on tap. We load up on liquids in preparation for travelling the rest of the day without water stops, and head back out into the desert.

Number 45, down.

Number 45, down.

We enter into Utah at some point and bike on until we reach Bluff. It’s been a full day of riding (75 miles or so) and sight seeing, and we sit down and gobble our beans. We read for a bit too, but then we’ve got to head out before it gets dark to try and find some place to stay for the night. Which turns out, is really difficult in the flat, thorny, fenced off landscape surrounding our lonely desert road.

As the sun is setting, we see a national parks campground sign and agree that we may just have to cough up the cash for camping tonight. We roll down a steep hill (a little begrudgingly as we know we have to climb back up tomorrow), and check out the pay kiosk to see if we can get hiker/biker rates (usually around $5 a night per person). As we’re scoping that and finding none posted, a gal the campsite across from us yells over and invites us to just pitch a tent in their spot, as it’s likely there aren’t any open ones left anyways. Sweet! We roll over and meet Gena, from Tacoma, WA who is super nice and offers to let us go back into town with her if we need, as she’s got to go get wifi to send an email. While the prospect of a nice car ride did sound lovely, we were plain tuckered out and opted to throw up the tent, munch on snacks, and whip out the flashlights for a little light reading at the picnic table before totally zonking out.

In the morning we got to sleep in (noon check out!) and make oatmeal (not quick oats!) and tea and chat more with our host. Her husband was meeting up with a couple friends to motorcycle tour for about a week and she was gunna road trip it for that time. We shared our tea with her and had good conversation with a fellow PNWer.

monumental.

monumental.

the desert rocks.

the desert rocks.

yup.

yup.

That day while riding we went up and down some serious hills, both fun and challenging (depending on which side of the hill you were currently at), and had some monumental views. Heh, literally. As in we road through Monument Valley, and my favorite, Valley of the Gods. We stopped at the welcome center in Monument Valley for a break, but just as soon needed to get back on the road in order to find a place to camp that night (still difficult). Within a mile we found ourselves crossing the Arizona border, which folks, means that we are only TWO states away from completing our 48 state goal. That’s another month and a half of riding, but damn, it’s getting closer.

feeling pretty accomplished...

feeling pretty accomplished…

seriously, only two left.

seriously, only two left.

We ended up having to ride another 21 miles out in Kayenta, where we pulled across a cattle grate to the first church we came across. No one was around but a gal was sitting outside her house across the way so I went and asked her if she thought it’s be okay with we slept there. We’re kind of cautious about our camping right now because we’re on Indian Reservations and don’t want to overstep our bounds. She figured it’s be fine, so we went ahead and made ourselves at home. Some big booms were going off further in town, and a dog came scampering in to the pavilion to hide, and we wondered how good of sleep we’d be getting that night, with cars continually pulling up and voices carrying all around us. I just rolled out my sleeping bag and crashed on an old van bench seat (so comfy! doesn’t deflate!) and soon enough zonkerd out, while Stink was kept awake with sounds of the dog gnawing on something, someone apparently digging a hole till midnight, an upset horse calling out across the way, and full and lengthy domestic dispute about child custody floating into our sleeping quarters. I heard the argument, and the hose, but slept through the rest. Stink says she can’t sleep as well at night because she knows I would never wake up to any alarming sounds. Sorry, I’m a really heavy sleeper…

more desert stuff.

more desert stuff.

In the morning, just before my alarm was to go off at 7:02, a car pulls up and we hear people heading into the church and begin vacuuming. We’re quietly packing up out tent to try and get outta there in case we weren’t exactly welcome to sleep there that night. But right about as we’re ready to roll out, a lady comes outside and asks us if we’d like a shower or coffee; the most pleasant of surprises. Her name is Sharon and she taught the Sunday school there, and was doing some cleanup before heading on to take her daughter (ho was there helping out too) to her volley game that morning. We quickly showered then sat and drank some coffee and chatted.

Sharon and her family live 45 minutes out of town, without water or electricity, with no complaints. She grew up without it, and has successfully raised her kids the same way. Much respect to her for that, as well as her just being a really nice person. She told us about the grocery store in town, and of a hardware store where were could get tubes if needed; it was like she was predicting every need we might have, which was really cool. I think they probably often find people sleeping outside the church, with how non-pulsed and prepared she was upon seeing us that morning.

After coffee, we rolled further into Kayenta to internet loiter a bit at McDonald’s and to hit up the grocery store as well. Folks were being really nice and I felt very welcome there. Turns out, the booms from the night before were sounds from the homecoming football game, of which the Kayenta Mustangs emerged still undefeated in the season. There must have been a parade too, as I saw candy in the streets on our way to McDonald’s. That day was another of desert and beauty and not so many water stops. We did come across one gas station and spent about three hours there trying to woo these two precious dogs who were rummaging about for food.

want.

want.

The first one was this very sweet little lady dog, with huge paws so that we wondered how big she was going to grow up to be. We fed her scraps of bread and Stink whipped out some chips and tortillas too. So we basically just fell in love with this dog, and really really wanted to take her with us, and probably would have too, it we weren’t so positive she had people waiting for her at home in the housing just past the gas station. After awhile of lovin on her (whom Stink named Howdy), another , more timid, little dog approached, who we soon started calling Little Brother and doing our best to coax him over and feed him to (he was quite a bit skinnier). We then found out he liked peanut butter on his tortillas and soon fell to calling him Peanut Butter Little Brother, and he just about broke our hearts with how sweet and timorous he was. We never got him close enough for petting, but did gain his trust bit by bit through various foods.

must love dogs.

must love dogs.

also a tarantula...

also a tarantula…

It was hard to bike away while these dogs kept hold of our hearts… seriously, if I thought they didn’t have people, I would absolutely be doing everything possible to take them with us. For now, my imaginary dog must do…

We rolled on into headwinds, and at one point came across another tourist, heading in the opposite direction. We stopped and talked with him, and found that he followed our instagram page (there’s is here). So that was cool, we’re real! His name was Jeremiah and he had scooted out from Ohio to LA, met is dad there, and they were biking around (can’t remember where to). His dad, Scott, soon pulled up, and we happily talked of all things tour (what we could each expect from the road ahead, camp styles, foods, and dogs to be found waiting at gas station).

happy people! He loves his pa!

happy people! He loves his pa!

Eventually though, we had to head back into our headwind and they into their tailwind and we rolled along. About 20 miles later we found another gas station/grocery store/post office/laundromat and filled up our waters. We sat out front for a bit, eating our respective cans of chili beans for dinner, and perhaps also some junk food, because… because. By the way Cracker Jacks have h absolute worst “FUN” prizes inside. It’s always just a sticker of some baseball team logo, but it does make for a convient way of knowing how many bags of Cracker Jacks I’ve eaten along the way, by just counting the stickers plastered to the seat stays on my bike (four, by the way, if you’re curious. Though one bag was like, a two pounder…)

After that bit of fine dining, we had to get back on the road to try to once again find somewhere to sleep. We rolled along till we cams across a huge lump of rocks just off the road and an unfenced drive leading into the area. We took out chances and rolled our bikes across the cattle grate and dragged them through the sand and tried to avoid the goat heads (goat heads are the bikers worst enemy in the desert. These spiny thorn have no qualms about puncturing your tires, or even stabbing into the soles of your shoes).

so sneaky.

so sneaky.

We leaned the bikes up behind one clump of rocks, then proceeded to clamber on up them and scope the place out. The highway was quite visible, and there were houses out in the surrounding desert, so we tried to remain inconspicuous (once again, on reservation land and weren’t sure how welcome we were to just plop our ten wherever we pleased). We saw some bike tracks in the sand as we climbed around, but didn’t think too much of it. After a bit, we just slayed out on some rocks out of view and enjoyed a spectacular sunset. I rolled over and looked at it upside down for change of perspective and it was even better.

I think this was that night...

I think this was that night…

We scrambled back down after a bit to read books before sunlight was totally out, and then this big Navajo dude just bikes up outta nowhere (he had been the one leaving the tracks!) and so we started talking with him & he was super cool. Martinez (or Mike, “like bike”) fixes up bikes and such, and had made all these different routes around that he biked, climbing up these crazy rocks on two wheels. So we just kept talking and talking (one thing that sticks out: I brought up the blood moon/eclipse that happened a couple weeks ago, and he was watching it too. Per tradition, he wasn’t supposed to look at it, and should have been fasting for the duration, but as we all laughed he said he was sitting there eating a big meal right in the middle of it, wondering why the moon was looking so crazy, till he called up some friends and asked) till it was totally dark out and the stars were crazy blazing, and eventually we said bye so that he could bike home. He had this teeny little light he turned on, but then we could see him like clambering up the rocks with his dog running along behind, so that was like magic.

After he left, we went to climb back up to sleep at the top of the rocks, but halfway we hear this sound & Stink thinks it’s a bug, but I’m like, nah, sounded like a rattle, so she flips on this little flashlight and we’re scoping around, and then there, there’s this little rattlesnake on a ledge right close to us & Stink’s quite afraid of snakes so she kinda just is rooted to the spot but eventually we get back down (checking for snakes along our way) and grab the tent as snake barrier (though we were really hyped to cowboy camp that night). But then Stink can’t decide if she wants to climb back up there or not, like, you can tell seeing the snake has kinda tripped her up, but eventually we just decide to throw the tent up right by the bikes, climb in, & zonk out.

we slept there.

we slept there.

In the morning, we crawled out and enjoyed our view once again, and biked twenty-two miles out to Tuba City. We were in no hurry for the next couple days, as we were ahead of schedule for meeting up with Stink’s Ma & Grandpa at the Grand Canyon. In Tuba City, we stopped at the Brasha’s grocery store, loaded up on goodies and 98 cents a pound fuji apples (score), then headed out to find the McDonald’s.

As we climbed up a rather large hill, for it being out of our way, we asked ourselves, was it really necessary to go to McDonald’s? Yes. The answer was yes. Our gadget’s batteries were dying slow painful deaths, and the instagrub page was left stagnant and neglected. We scooted up the rest of the hill and headed in. Only to find no outlets. Dang. I opted to scope around for other more chargey loitering opportunities, while Stink hung about and made a few phone calls. A block down the road, there was an internet cafe. For real. With desktop computers. I had found my place. Stink came on by later to take advantage of the better loitering opportunities. And coffee. Needless to say, we were there for a few hours.

We decided to stay the night in Tuba City, then bike just 25 miles out to Cameron for the next night, then the day after that, we’d meet up with Stink’s fam on the way into the Canyon. After thoroughly loitering inside the coffee shop, we headed to a nearby park to read and kill more time. I went to the bathroom at one point and found a certain lack of stall doors. Just as I was about to drop drawers in the furthest stall, a little boy walks in and tells me he has to poop… I gestured to the stall next to me and said, “well… okay.” …

Anyways, as we we’re sitting about in the boiling sun, Stink slyly asked me when the last time we had eaten at a restaurant. Well, it’s been since Santa Fe when my cousin Daniel had paid for our meal at Vinaigrette. There happened to be a restaurant across the road that happened to have fry bread, so we happened to decide to eat dinner there. We both got burgers, veggie and beefy respectively, on fry bread buns, and took our time munching hot food and writing letters. Soon though, the sun was preparing to set, so we had to kick rocks and go find ourselves a campsite.

This proved a bit difficult, as we were still on the rez, but eventually we found a sneaky spot out behind the junior high school, in a large hilly field of sand, rocks, and desert flora. We threw up the tent as night fell, and climbed in. Dogs barked all night, among other more ominous sounds, but at least one of us was able to successfully sleep through it all.

home sweet

home sweet

In the morning, we headed back to the internet cafe to kill time, charge, read, snack, drink coffee, and the like. After doing that for a few hours, we went to the grocery store, and I headed off to post office on a bumpy dirt road. All this desert landscape really makes me want to take up off road biking… Anyways, turns out it was Columbus day, as ironic as that was, so the office was closed. I met Stink back over by the grocery store, and not long after a fella comes by and starts giving us bits of advice, like to suck on a piece of dry corn placed in between your lip and your front two teeth if you’re going to be hunting all day, and then you won’t go hungry.

After he left, a little boy came by, playing with his lasso. He started telling us about his roping classes, and competitions he’d been in (and won). He lassoed my foot with ease, and at one point was surprised that we couldn’t speak Navajo (he was saying “calf” in Navajo and we were like, what?). He said he always talked with his grandma in Navajo, and it was fun. This was all really cute, by the way.

Eventually, we had to leave town to bike out to Cameron, and so did. There was a trading post just as you entered town, and we hung out there reading and such, then around sunset we set out to find somewhere to sleep. We pulled off the main road and ended up at this one missionary church. We asked this teensy old lady if we could camp out there. She asked the pastor, and he reluctantly agreed; it’s not exactly the safest place and he didn’t want to be responsible if anything happened.

We rolled the bikes out back, and set up our tent. The lady, Juanita was out at work, chopping weeds out of the sandy loam with a pick ax, so as soon as our camp was set up, we lent a hand. All three of us worked together till nightfall and made a slight dent on the relentless population of thorny desert plants sprouting out of the ground left and right.

In the morning, we headed back to the trading post for coffee and fry bread breakfast, dragging out our loiter as long as possible. We left around noon and started the ascent to the Grand Canyon. We stopped at one viewpoint for a few hours to give Stink’s mom time to catch up with us, as we’d all be entering the park together. But at some point, Stink found out there’d been a few GPS… miscalculations on their part, so they wouldn’t be arriving till after nightfall.

fake entrance. many more miles to go.

fake entrance. many more miles to go.

Just as well, we hopped back on the bikes and continued the climb. We arrived outside of the park entrance just as night was falling, and elk could be heard in the near distance calling out in the brush. We sat and bided our time, then as dark had completely taken hold, a car of joyful company pulled up. We haven’t seen Stink ma in over five months! Hugs all around, then unloading the bikes in the the back of the car (which filled it entirely up), installing a new bike rack for the first time in the dark, and then strapping those bad boys to the back of the car.

We entered the park laughing at all the signs for viewpoints in the pitch dark. We headed to the Yavapi lodge registration center, got our room keys, and headed to the tavern for dinner. After a timely wait, we were served our food and ravenously fell upon it. Afterwards, a quick drive (in a car!) to our room, unpacking, and long awaited showers, and we hit the hay. Tuckered out but glad to all be together!

I’m gunna leave it off there, as A) that’s a full week of baloney, and B) speaking of tuckered out, I am, and it’s time for me to zonker out. (Currently finishing up this blug post at the lodge computer with heavy eyes) (Okay, also, p.s. we’ve had terrible luck with wifi lately and haven’t been able to upload many pictures… so forgive. one day… one day we’ll have reliable internet) (p.p.s. they’re playing enya in here. I’m 2/3 asleep)

Okay pals, keep it cool,
-lizzy, beef’s ghost, and oto

sneak peak of the grandy candy

sneak peak of the grandy candy


Not Far Enough Yet 3

Sunrise 7:00

Sunrise 7:00


Colorado

We have made it to state 44

Well friends, we’re in Colorado and Fall has fallen. It seems crazy to think that we left five months ago, even crazier to think that we still have two to go. And so, there is nothing left for us to do but bike on.

Cactus in bloom

Cactus in bloom


It has been strange biking around without Little Beef. I’m quite proud of the little fella for making it 43/48 states. That’s no small feat for someone so small.

Ratless we rode through the New Mexico desert, and it was a beauty to balm the loss of our third Musketeer. The first day in the real desert we nearly ran out of water, which of course, makes one immediately more intensely thirsty than ever. We made it to a sketchy little gas station run by a curmudgeon. We bought some precious fluids and rode on into the darkness. That was fun. We were able to use Aunt Donna’s party lights on our wheels and made quite the spectacle as we dodged snakes and desert toads by the light of the moon.

Some road

Some road

Lizzy’s friend Tosha’s parents have a wonderful little apartment in Santa Fe and had graciously given us permission to stay there for an entire week. We were ecstatic to have such a wonderful place to rest. We rode further into the desert, taking time to stop at some sketchy tourist trap locations before finally setting course for the boonies. (One such tourist trap seemed to have a nice and sneaky-campable plot of trees by a small pond, but after investigation I discovered that the pond was a raw sewage tank. Needless to say, we chose to ride on. Sagacious we may be.)

Desert colors

Desert colors in New Mexico

We did make it to Santa Fe, and though we did not stay a week, we did manage to spend three nights in luxury about 0.7 miles from the town square. It really felt like we had stumbled out of the desert into another county. A country made of fine art, Adobe, and Whole Foods. I spend considerable time at the local Trader Joe’s–my absolute favorite grocery store– so that the staff actually began to recognize me… Lizzy and I managed to make a mean vat of spaghetti squash and feed off of it for about two days. Yummmmmmm.

Santa Fe

Santa Fe

Our digs

Our digs in Santa Fe, courtesy of the Balwits

The guard

The guard


It was very hard to leave the apartment on Saturday morning, but we knew we couldn’t stay forever. Hints of the coming winter have started nagging at me and prodding me westward. The roads were damp from a thunderstorm and the air was absolutely fresh and clean as we peddled onward toward Colorado.

Desert rain

Desert rain

More beauty

More beauty

We made it out into some of the most beautiful country we have yet seen. I’m pretty sure that I can call it my favorite area of the trip, though that is debatable (Montana is pretty fabulous). We both began snapping innumerable pictures of the drama unfolding around us. Drama is the only way to describe the perfect mix of color, shadow and texture in the desert. We watched the blooming rain chase us across the valleys and rocks and then tickle us with mist. In this fashion, awestruck and drunk on the beauty around us, we stumbled upon an abandoned Soil Conservation Education Ranger Station. Since there were no “no trespassing” signs and we really needed a safe place to stay, we hoisted the bikes over the gate and promptly set up our hammocks on the front porch. We both knew that it was really too cold to be hammocking but fortunately there was a small and sun-warmed, stone, observation building with east facing windows and a wide open door that we figured we’d find a suitable home for the evening. After a dinner of cold beans and a good laugh over Grimm’s Fairy Tales, we fell asleep.

Camping at the ranger station

Camping at the ranger station

Boiling rock

Boiling rock

A Lizzy in the desert

A Lizzy in the desert


The following day was one of more rain sprinkles and threats of winter. We wound our way up and up to about 7,800 feet. The land changed dramatically as well, it seems that we have made it out of the desert (for now) and into the base of the Rockies. We rode to Chama and stopped at a Rip-Off overpriced fruit stand, and then on to the town Visitors Center which boasted free coffee, maps, and wifi. How could we resist? We met some wonderful people there; some former bike tourists, a little woman who rode a horse cross country, and a woman and her daughter who gave us “Tiger Nuts”– a strange Whole Foods tiny tuber. We all discovered that the tree in the lawn was an apple tree and so attacked it. Free apples with strangers. Wonderful.

Never again to be destroyed by flood

Never again to be destroyed by flood

We rode on through the range and found a BLM type open range area that allowed camping and biking etc. We were supposed to have a permit, but we camped there anyway. It was also a bit rainy. We sat in the grass eating cold refried bean burritos while it rained: the glamour of reality. We fell asleep listening to the rain on the tent. It didn’t occur to me until I was awakened by coyotes at midnight that we are back in bear country. Hmm. Probably not the best idea to be eating/parking the food laden bicycles right next to our tent.

Oh, just some cliffs

Oh, just some cliffs

I woke up feeling sick and feisty. We knew we had about 30 miles to ride before civilization, but once we crossed the Colorado boarder after riding about ten miles, there was a road sign that claimed Pagosa Springs was 30 miles away. Apparently we rode through some sort of road length warp. We eventually made it into town and I felt like I was going to pass out. The remedy: pancakes. But unfortunately there were no pancake places that were still serving pancakes! So we ended up doing the usual thing and popping into McDonalds for a million hours.

image

These flowers are everywhere

These flowers are everywhere


After nursing an icky tummy, we went across the street to a grocery store where we met a woman who is a former bicycle tourist and a perpetual adventurer. We talked with her for a good while and watched the rain cross the parking lot. We knew it was our lot to head out into that sodden mess of a highway, but we did so with grace. It was mostly downhill to Chimney Rock where we had planned on camping.

We found a snug little campsite in the woods and had just finished the nightly chores of balancing the bikes, covering them for rain, changing in to cozy clothes, grabbing books and flashlights, and finally zipping ourselves into the breathtakingly stink capsule of a tent that we inhabit when a cluster of thunderstorms opened upon us.

There is nothing like weathering a thunderstorm in a tent. The cacophonous claps of thunder began in the valley far away and slowly rolled toward us. The sound waves were caught and bound by the nameless rock faces surrounding our abode and clashed violently there. Fits of rain pelted the roof of our poor little tent and threatened to wash us away in the torrent of sound and chaos. Huddled there with nothing more than a millimeter of nylon between us and the storm’s impressive display, I was impossibly warm, uncannily dry, and improbably comfortable. Props go to the world’s best $5 yard sale tent. Thanks dad.

The rain eventually let up around 5 in the morning. I had been anticipating the sunrise on Chimney Rock but was not too surprised to find that we were waking up in the midst of a sea of thick and impenetrable fog. Therefore, I have no pictures of that national monument. Oh well.

Chimney Rock rocks!

Chimney Rock rocks!


We rode out to Durango in hopes of meeting with my hip and fabulous cousin, but unfortunately that whole college thing got in the way. We were appropriately bummed, but have found Durango to be enjoyable nonetheless. Here we picked up some cookies sent ahead by my momma, and are benefiting from the free wifi of a local coffee brewer. What could be better.

Tomorrow we head out to Utah, then Monument Valley.

Some beautiful plants

Some beautiful plants


goodbye to a dear friend 12

a good good boy

a good good boy

Yesterday I said goodbye to my dear friend, Denali (Beef). On Sunday evening, as the moon eclipsed and meteors raced across the brilliant New Mexico night sky, I steeled myself for a visit to the vet the next day. I knew it was probably time to say goodbye, so I just made sure I let him know how loved he was. We camped out in a baseball dugout in San Jon, NM that night, and in the morning as we got up for coffees at the nearby gas station, Denali and I spent some more time together, giving scritches and kisses.

Beef is too handsome for his own good.

We rode out to Tucumcari, about twenty-four miles away. It was a really beautiful ride through the desert, on old Route 66, with hardly a car in sight.

Beef got to run around the schoolyard in the morning when we woke up in Britton. He immediately went to play in the bundles of rebar lying around, and used his super camouflage skills.

I had talked with the vet that morning to make sure he could be seen. When we got into town, my phone said it was just before one, when the office would be closed for lunch till two. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the far side of town by then, so we stopped for groceries (we’re in a food desert as well), and loitered around.

We stopped for lunch and rat snuggles at one of the other shelters earlier in the day.

Just after two, we continued out to vet’s office, on the remote west side of town. When we pulled up, there was a sign on the door saying they were out to lunch. I checked my watch; it was just after one. My phone, which had correctly switched to Mountain time as we passed into New Mexico the day before, had reverted to Central, effectively giving us another hour.

DSC07499

Screenshot_2015-09-29-11-40-47_1

he held still for once

he held still for once

We sat on the porch and Stink and I both loved up the old boy. He ate some sugary sweet baby food mixed with frosting off my finger, and did some impressive eye boggling and teeth grinding displays (that’s how rats show pleasure, don’t ask me why, I’ve always found it really silly).

Picture or a picture Greg Simple took of Liz and Beef at ACHQ

famous tour rat

When the vets and techs all came back from lunch, we went in and him checked out while I filled the vet in on all the recent issues, his age, and info from the vet last week.

sweet beef

sweet beef

Lizz teaches kids about rats

A lesson in rat ownership

We could try and give him some steroid shots, or just let him go. I don’t think the steroids would’ve been able to help much, and it was already tough seeing him struggle to get around and sit up without using his back legs (a common issue among geriatric rats). I had come prepared to have him put to sleep if needed, and the vet agreed that it would probably be the best thing for him.

That doesn’t make it an easy decision though.

I was there with him the whole time, and sooner than I’d have ever liked, he was gone.

I wrapped him up in my bandana and we biked out into the surrounding dessert, till a spot called out to me. Stink and I both put together some mementos, flowers, rocks, and such. I wrote him a little note, laid him to rest, and covered him with earth in the shade of a tree. I topped his grave with a large feather I’d been carrying with me this week, and a small piece of turquoise my great granddaddy had polished.

we liked to snug on the hammock together back at home

we liked to snug on the hammock together back at home

I’m glad to have been his pal, and to have had his near constant companionship for the past two years. Denali was the best ratboy you could’ve ever asked for, and he was loved by people far and wide. He changed people who never thought they could love a rat, and won hearts along the way.
Especially mine.

Rat gets pets

love love

Much love to my little guy. I miss him already.

-lizzy


All Hail to the Beef 5

Look! He's eating!

Look! He’s eating!

...I took my title from this stupid billboard

…I took my title from this stupid billboard

I wanna start off by saying thank you for all the letters and postcards and goodies that we found sitting perched atop the piano at my grandpa’s last weekend. We had Christmas morning at the breakfast table on Sunday, while feasting on blue cornmeal and toast that my lovely little Japanese grandma prepared for us. (She’s the best at making healthy yummy food. My being vegan doesn’t phase her in the least). It was kind of a stinky Christmas morning though, as my dad had sent a can of V8 tomato juice stuff, which had exploded all over everything else in the box. The post office has kindly bagged the sodden package, and by the time we arrived to open it, it was spouting a nice growth of mold, and smell, well, like rotten tomatoes.

Anyways, I spent the morning reading letters and perhaps getting an early start on all those snacks meant for the road. After noon, the Trickey clans began trickling through the door. Greys and Simons and Ragsdales and Colliers soon filled the whole house with chatter and laughter. Stink and Beef both got to meet the fam, which was probably a bit overwhelming for the both of them.

We had a late lunch, and the long benches and tables int he dining room overflowed into the rest of the house. My grandpa had a few words to say, then a few more, then sooner or later we were all chowing down. My Aunt Kathy & co. ended up staying late with us, playing dominoes, drinking like seven pots of coffee I think, and cracking up over the slightest things. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.

Finally through, even they trickled off home, and we headed off to bed. In the morning we had to pack up, and this included the pound of goodies and snacks passed on to us by family members, and by friends in the mail. It was a weight I was more than okay with bearing. Once the bikes were loaded, we had to say goodbye to grandma and grandpa. He fanned us off (a prayer ceremony involving getting sacred cedar smoke fanned all over you with these beautiful fans. This was probably a bit strange for Stink, but just reminiscent for me. It always feels like a giant bird is wafting over me, beating it’s wings along my body. I may not be religious, but this, this I like).

My grandpa is a participant in the Native American Church, and this an example of a traditional fan used in ceremonies

My grandpa is a participant in the Native American Church, and this an example of a traditional fan used in ceremonies

We said our goodbyes, then rolled off down the gravel road, and were both immediately out of breath. How had three days gotten us so out of shape!? We chugged along though, and had our goal set for Edmond, OK (which as it turned out was accidentally a hundred miles away). We were in touch with Donna, our Oklahoma Rat Lady, who lives just south of there in Oklahoma City., and planned to meet up .Since we were going to be so close to her though, she offered to have us stay for the night. Yay!

clouds. hot.

clouds. hot.

route 66 !

route 66 !

So, we rolled along on Route 66, saw us a couple German bike tourists in a dive bar along the way. We wondered why anyone would want to bike the entire Route 66 (not very bike friendly, with old bumpy roads that run parallel to the interstate in many places), but chalked it up to the idea that foreigners probably still think Route 66 is the “essential America”. We reached a gas station 76 miles out from grandpa’s, then Donna and her husband Ted came our way to pick us up and take us to dinner and home for the night. Beef got to meet an entire van full of children who were curious about the little creature I was tending to on the back of my bike.

Beef boof bof

Beef boof bof

Beefie has been showing his age lately (I’ll have had him two year next month, and who knows how old he was when I got him from the rat rescue). His back legs began to start giving out that past week, a common thing among old rats. When Donna and Ted arrived, we loaded up the bikes while she held him. Not quite the pudgy little pork he was when she met him in Yellowstone four months ago.

We all went out to dinner at this cafeteria, Luby’s, which was bomb. Donna and Ted and the nicest folks you’ll ever meet, and kept us entertained with stories of their many and varied adventures. When we got home, Donna had set up a nice big rat hotel for Beef, and we set about making sure he’d be comfortable. But he wasn’t. He was a bit freaked out, and his breathing was getting more labored than usual (he’s been a wheezy boy since forever, but this was more extreme). Donna suggested we take him to her vet, and assured that they were wonderful with rats. I jumped at the chance, and we four (Stink included), zipped off together.

I was getting more nervous about my boy, so it was good to have folks chatting in the car. We got their and got him all check in, and they put him in an oxygen tank to help with his breathing. The vet came out later and said he didn’t look good. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be around for. This is never something you want to hear. I kind of had a moment in the lobby, just from the shock of it. But I was surrounded by good people, even another patron waiting had sympathy for this kind of ordeal. When the tech brought him back out, he got lots of loving, and a few different medicines, to do the best to getting him feeling better.

One of the medicines was a liquid to be used in a nebulizer, which I didn’t even know what it was. But in the way that things just end up working out, we happened to be staying with a bona fide Rat Lady, who had the very thing on hand. This is a tank you put the animal in, while a machine vaporizes the medicine and pumped it into the container like a fog. The critter then breathes it in and get medicine very directly this way.

So we got home and set this up and did his first treatment. Donna offered to let us stay for another day so we could do more rounds of it. We talked it over and agreed that this was best. So, Beef’s “Auntie Donna” got him some baby foods and yummy treats, and set up beds for us on the couches. Donna’s girls, Emma and Livie, were home, and everyone gave Beefie lots of lovin, just what the doctor ordered. By then, it was late, and it had been a long night, so soon enough we were passed out.

Dale Chihuly glass stuffs

Dale Chihuly glass stuffs

Donna had tons of cool art around the house as well. check out these postcards!

Donna had tons of cool art around the house as well. check out these postcards!

We got up kind late in the morning, and nebulized the old ratboy again (nebulize is such a cool word). Donna had an appointment later, but told us about the art museum in town. Ted ended up picking Stink and I up and driving us out there for a few good hours of destressing and art viewing. There was a huge Dale Chihuly exhibit, and Fabergé eggs too, but what I really liked was the varied assortment of American painting displayed on the second floor.

that's me sitting in front of my favorite, the coming storm by george inness

that’s me sitting in front of my favorite, the coming storm by george inness

the coming storm - george inness

here is it.

Fabergé made... bit too gaudy for my taste. There were some cool carved animal figures though...

Fabergé made… bit too gaudy for my taste. There were some cool carved animal figures though…

Donna picked us up afterwards and we all went home to drug the beef again, like ya do. We went out for dinner at Mexican restaurant, then stopped by the lakefront park on the way home to see if the treeman was there (Donna and Ted had been telling us about this guy who like, dances with the one tree every night, and plays his didgeridoo during the sunsets). Lo & behold, he was there, along with a tree lady, and a little German shepherd pup. We sat on a bench and watched the rosy sunset while furtively stealing glances at the tree folk and trying to think of an excuse to go over and talk with them.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something small and dark skittering across the path, and headed over to see what it was. It was a tiny mouse! Everyone came over to see the little fella, and by then, we were right night to the tree folk, and their pup began barking so of course we had to go over and say hello. This ended up with us all chatting away like old friends and petting the pup and even ended with a didgeridoo performance by treeman. I was glad the little mouse had led us over their. Just another wholesome feeling of being at the right place at the right time.

Occupy bench. Watch treeman.

Occupy bench. Watch treeman.

will we ever leave?

will we ever leave?

We got home, nebulized Beef again and soon all zonkered out again. In the morning we did a final treatment and prepared to leave. Donna was going to ride with us along the bike paths, back to Route 66, so we all got ready to go. Stink had to fix a flat (then another as she exploded her tube with a bit too much air pressure when topping it off. Never do that again! Our ears were ringing). Donna took a spin on my bike, and I on hers (it weighed next to nothing) and it was probably equally challenging for the both of us to remain upright.

beef photoshoot (these pictures are from Donna BTW

beef photoshoot (these pictures are from Donna BTW

cyclescoot gang

cyclescoot gang

Eventually, we got on the road, and had a pleasant 13 mile ride out with Donna, till she dropped us back off on our road. Beefie had to say bye too, to his Auntie Donna ( as we have now deemed her). We then just busted out miles and stopped to eat sandwiches at Subway and try to get Beefie to eat morsels of our foods too (his appetite is failing as well, so if we think we can get him to get something, by all means, we’ve got it dangling in front of his puffy little face).

On a ride with Aunt Donna

On a ride with Aunt Donna

...and saying goodbye

…and saying goodbye

We rode on to Weatherford, OK and scoped out a nice church pavilion. We asked permission and got the go ahead. Stink went to a college kids sermon thingy, and I zonked out after giving Beefie his meds and getting him to eat some baby cereal (also courtesy of Donna). When we started packing up in the morning, the college pastor came out and invited us to come in and use the restroom if needed. He also stuck around to watch us try and cram all our junk back on the bikes. It’s like a reverse clown car and proves endlessly entertaining to others. He also gave us contact info for some churches in towns we might stop at that evening, that would probably let us camp out for the night.

flat flat flat. also hot.

flat flat flat. also hot.

We rode out to Sayre that day, and found one of his churches. I asked a fella heading inside if the pastor or someone was around, and he flagged down a guy in a truck who was pulling out of the parking lot. This was the music director for the church, and turns out he was a cyclist too. He showed us an area we could camp out at, only after offering to get us a hotel (we were able to declined this time!). We walked over to the grocery next door, got some beans, then relaxed in our hidden little spot.

this toad guarded the tent for me.

this toad guarded the tent for me.

Stink slung her hammock over on a stairwell, and I put up the tent that night, as there were bugs everywhere! Ants had even invaded Beef’s mailbox so I spent awhile in the streetlight wiping them all out before safely getting him in the tent and zonking out. In the morning, we packed up, and Stink headed to a McDonald’s down the rode while I finished gathering my things. Only then did I notice that ants had invaded my snack pannier and were bust destroying everything! They had chewed through double layers of plastic bags and effectively ruined most all of the snacks from friends and family that I was carrying.

I was bummed. Those were good snacks. I dumped one bag out onto the sidewalk and was trying to salvage some of the eatables, when music man showed up and then I realized how pitiful I looked, squatting over a pile of ant infested trail mix, picking out raisins and banana chips. He asked if he could just give me a few bucks to get some more from the grocery across the street (this was an irreplaceable delicious gift from dear friends though!), so I knew I must end my fool’s errand, and kick the rest into the grass.

everything was bigger.

everything was bigger.

I met up with Stink, drank coffees, and slowly and painstakingly feed Beef baby food and cereal off our fingers (he’s getting so he won’t eat out of a bowl, just wants to lick food off your fingers). Eventually though, we hit the road, and bot howdy did we ride. We had all these back roads to travel on and it was beautiful, flat, and even windy in a helpful way. We crossed into Texas, our 42nd state, though it wasn’t much different than Oklahoma.

mm. soggy. this was fun

mm. soggy. this was fun

We stayed in this teeny town McLean, TX that night, then got on the road early the next morning. We went on dirt roads for part of the day, and even had to ford a flooded one, taking off our shoes and walking out scoots through shin deep waters out in the middle of nowhere, under the watchful gaze of a fancy prancy horse.

you think you're so fancy... and beautiful... you're right. dang it.

you think you’re so fancy… and beautiful… you’re right. dang it.

We eventually entered Amarillo, and immediately wanted to exit Amarillo. It was trafficy, with hotel and gas station after fast food after another. We stopped at a truck stop for a bit to chug gatorade and scarf down some food (and for Beef to lap some up as well) then got the hell of out dodge.

The next town we hit was teensy, and we had the option of staying there, or doing another twenty miles before sundown. We moved along. And fast too! We had a tailwind, a sunlight deadline, and motivation to get there and go to bed. we were probably scooting along at a good 18 mph at least, and soon the town was in view.

I got some water at a Subway, Stink scouted out a church we could camp at, and then we sat about eating chili beans, drugging my rat, and trying to convince him to eat various tidbits. While this was going on, Stink check out how man many we did that day: one hundred and twenty.

Damn.

We hadn’t even gone over a hundred the entire trip, and here we are doing 120. I didn’t believe it at first, but then my weary body convinced me otherwise.We set up the tent in an adjacent field, set the alarm for 10 and a half hours from then, and immediately passed out and didn’t wake till a gang of crows on the fence started showing off their voices half an hour before the alarm was to go off. And even then we didn’t get up till it did go off, slowly clambering out into the dewy grass, packing up our soggy tent and scooting to a gas station for coffee.

Beef durgging, feeding, coffee drinking, oatmeal eating, and a bit of well earned loitering ensued. Once we left, we had some miles on frontage roads along the interstate, but then even those ended and we had to join traffic with the big boys.

We're newly mexican!

We’re newly mexican!

But, here we are now, in the New Mexico visitor’s center, just after crossing the state line; our 43rd state.

Love you all, and make sure you send old man Denali “Beef” Beeferton all the best vibes you got.
-Lizzy