My conservative goal for today was the city of Quartzsite. It was only 24 miles away. I had the free breakfast at the Budget Host, then started riding at 7:30 am. It was cool, with a tailwind.
As soon as I crossed the river, it was clear that I was in Arizona.I’m glad that the route directed me onto Dome Rock Road, instead of staying on I-10. I got to see a flock of vultures cleaning up a rabbit.90 minutes after embarking, I was in Quartzsite.
Less than 1000 feet of climbing to Quartzsite, and gradual at that. I still felt all right. Should I go for the ambitious goal of Salome? It was triple the distance, triple the climbing, no services on the way, and the day could heat up. On the positive side, it was not hot yet, and there was a tailwind. It was 10 am. I went into a McDonald’s to have some pancakes and think about it.
While eating my pancakes at McDonald’s, I met Miriam from Yuma, who was headed to Sedona to watch her granddaughter perform in a talent show. Miriam was in education, first as a teacher, then the last 15 years in administration. She also started a chapter of a group that supports people with bipolar disorder or depression.Although there were no services, I could always get a drink from one of the many discarded bottles of iced tea and apple juice along the highway. In one spot, I saw six half gallon ones. Hey, wait a minute…Fortunately, I didn’t experience any of the sand storms that Mike and Louise did.One of several restaurants and stores that were either closed today, or closed for the season. In fact, there was nothing open until almost Salome.This was the first open store for the entire day. I got Gatorade and an ice cream sandwich, and asked the cashier how far it was to Salome. She said 6 miles. That was a welcome surprise, as I thought it was further. It was only 2:30 pm.This was across the lot. It’s real.All day long, I had been thinking about the word, Salome. Was it like Shalom or Salaam, the Aloha of the middle east? This sign at the outskirts of town settled the matter.
I checked in at the Westward Motel, which was on a side street. Interesting place. It had a common kitchen and lounge like a hostel, but individual rooms like a motel.
Randy and Cindy (not shown) own the place. Randy did all of the remodeling himself.The room was spacious.There are interesting things on the walls, shelves, and hiding in drawers.There are several areas outside to dine, or sit and visit. This place would be good for a group of (say) 4 families.Although I had food with me, I decided to eat at the Salome Restaurant. The burger came with a huge serving of tots. I ended up taking most of the tots back to the motel as a snack.Patti was traveling with her daughter, Kat, and son, Theodore. They’re from San Diego, where Patti sells real estate, and Kat is learning the ropes. The previous night, they had gotten stranded on a remote road with only texting access – no voice or data. A Mother’s Day Adventure! Patti has a Facebook page on “Kindness Matters,” but unfortunately, I was unable to find it in search.
I have not tapped my gallon jug since San Luis Obispo. Once again, it crossed my mind that I might shed the 8 pounds of weight and just use my on-bike water bottles. But I keep thinking, What if? What if there hadn’t been a tailwind? What if it had been triple-digit heat?
Miles today: 60.9
(Visited 83 times, 1 visit(s) today)
unless you see a lot of little flags marking water stashes along the route, i’d keep the gallon!
Um, I’d have to be pretty desperate, as in literally dying-of-dehydration desperate, with no prospect of rescue or getting myself to water, to risk drinking some discard that has who-knows-what bacteria and viruses in it, lying out there for who-knows-how-long!
KEEP THAT GALLON JUG OF WATER!
Apart from that… tell me, seriously, do you LIKE the dry dusty heat? I’m starting to feel parched just looking at some of those images…
unless you see a lot of little flags marking water stashes along the route, i’d keep the gallon!
No stashes, just all the bottles of free pineapple iced tea.
Um, I’d have to be pretty desperate, as in literally dying-of-dehydration desperate, with no prospect of rescue or getting myself to water, to risk drinking some discard that has who-knows-what bacteria and viruses in it, lying out there for who-knows-how-long!
KEEP THAT GALLON JUG OF WATER!
Apart from that… tell me, seriously, do you LIKE the dry dusty heat? I’m starting to feel parched just looking at some of those images…
I wasn’t serious about those bottles. Ask Walt what they are if you don’t know.
It is, indeed, dry – but not hot. At least not that day. I think the thermometer got up to 82 F. Locals tell me it’s 20 degrees cooler than normal.