Tuesday - 5/22: "So...Are the gnats bad over there...?"
Knowing that I don't HAVE to get up at the crack of dawn, I briefly entertain deluded fantasies of sleeping a little later to catch up on some rest...
The desert has no sense of compassion... only a grim humor. Feeling like a wrapped potato in an oven, I roll out to greet the new day. No sounds of gunfire or helicopters. No holes in the tent or bike. Maybe it was all a dream...? I'm hungry.
John is up and busy doing.... well... nothing. Seems like a plan to me so I join him. I guess I could wander around and do some hiking and exploring but the thought of actually exerting myself is just not real appealing. Before the sun gets high enough to turn the silt between the tents and the edge of the river into a blistering torture trail, I grab my stuff for the day and head down to the river to enjoy the cool morning breeze and shade. As always, the Camel Bak is by my side. We engage in some idle speculation as to what may have happened to Casey... "You's a purdy boy ain't you now!" Cue the banjoes... Has he been able to get a hold of his buddies? Will he remember to bring me a cold Coke!? What the... doh! My shade is drifting. Time to find a better spot to lay down.
The gnats are a constant annoyance. They were bad yesterday too. It seems they have company today though... flies
It would seem that what energy I manage to recover from resting could easily be spent constantly swatting gnats and flies out of my face. I sit. I stand. I pace around. I sit. I lay down. I stand. I pace around. John can't take it. The idleness wears on him and he starts hatching plans for "doing something". Doing nothing is still doing something, but I guess that is not enough for him
So out comes his big knife and some rope... essential tools for doing something!
Something to lean against...?
The first version fell down, so time for some modifications to beef it up a little
Well, it soon becomes obvious that John is not Bob Villa when it comes to making things out of wood
We sit. We stand. We pace around. We lay down. "Dude... are you hungry? How about lunch?" Sounds good to me!
John is better at cooking, Alton Brown eat your heart out!
The groovy stove that is a hoot to light! It involves BIG flames
Delicious Mexican Rice and Beans!!
The far bank sits there... taunting us... soooo close and yet so far
Earlier in the morning, John had noticed that the water level of the river seemed to have gone down several inches over night. Looking around confirms that it has indeed gone down probably four inches or more. He pokes a stick into the mud on the edge of the river to use as a reference to monitor any further drop in the level. You know the saying... "A watch stick never changes its level indication..." It is amazing how many times we both walk over to take a look at the stick during the day, as if the water would really be going down that fast
Besides, it would have to drop a foot or more before we could attempt a crossing at the other crossing where the ATV's went across. Worse... we'd have to GET there, which would involve going back up that insane hill between here and the top of the ridge
I check the stick again...
Sometime in the afternoon, I have this fuzzy feeling of having fallen asleep at the waters edge. Odd sounds of clicking and buzzing float in and out of my ears. Strange dreams of being experimented upon and sexually violated linger in the dim edges of my consciousness...
All my parts are accounted for... must have been a dream...
And the afternoon drags on... "Do you hear that!?" Hmmm... sounds like helicopters again. They sound really close. In fact, they sound like the are coming directly at us! I stand near the edge of the river and peer down through the trees and over the water. Sure enough, the familiar profile of a Blackhawk looms low in the sky, skimming up the river between the trees, and coming fast! I wonder if they might see us? I move out from under the trees and up the bank a bit to get in the open. When they get closer, I start to wave my arms back and forth to see if I can draw their attention. Apparently not... They pull up and bank hard right over our position, arcing up over the river and falling away behind a ridge line on the far side of the river. Hmmm....
John and I joke about how cool it would be to have them see us, agree to drop a cable to wrap around the bikes, and to haul us over to the other side of the river. Imagine that trip report! Pics of our bikes dangling on the end of a cable slung under the belly of a chopper. The desert boredom is taking its toll on our mental faculties... "Do you hear that!?" It is the unmistakable sound of another chopper coming up the valley towards us! I move back out into the open to watch for it. Sure enough, another Blackhawk rounds the bend, its massive rotors whomping the air into submission. Once again I wave. Once again they bank right over us before falling away over the distant ridge line. This chopper was a medic chopper and had the big red cross emblem painted on the sides. We can hear the choppers winding down after having settled behind the ridge line out of sight. These guys can't be that far away. John starts hatching plans to wade across the river, hike over to their position, and to introduce ourselves, "Hey guys! Got any spare MRE's!? And oh yeah, think you could spare a hummer or chopper to get us across the river?"
I check the stick in the water... no change... Let's see... where's a good shade spot? And so the day goes...
It is interesting that when I have time to just sit, and I mean really just sit and do nothing, at all... I start to notice things. There is the feel of the breeze on my skin. There is the constant sound of the water undulating as it courses down the valley. There is the clicking of branches as they rub against each other in the wind. There is the soft rustling of leaves as the wind passes through them. There are birds EVERYWHERE! There are big birds, little birds, bright yellow birds, blue birds, hungry birds... The big vultures continually soar on the winds above, slowing when they get directly overhead for a good look at us
How long can those guys stay airborne without flapping their wings... It would seem a LONG time! At one point, I swear I see several different huge McCaw birds flying across the river, you know, the ones like Tucan Sam... There are lizards everywhere we look. One even comes out to the end of a branch near John and starts showing his colors in a threatening manner! Little does he know that John is eying him while thinking of how he might be cooked...
Then there are the bugs.
If a person does not like bugs or at least have a tolerance of them, then that person should avoid the desert. In every direction I look, there are spider webs. These are the ones that look like funnels. The webs always narrow down to the spot where the long legged and LARGE spiders are hanging out, sitting just inside the hole waiting to leap out in an instant to drag their prey back into the hole. At times there are so many webs it seems as if they blend into each other. It is a good thing I am not arachnaphobic...
Then there are the gnats. These things are EVERYWHERE!! One can hardly take a breath without having a gnat buzz up the nose. Considering that my eyes, ears, nose and mouth are only a very small portion of the total real estate of my body, it astounds me that the gnats are overly preoccupied with those parts of my anatomy
Yet even these annoying and seemingly worthless pieces of creation are fascinating. As I sit still and watch, I notice several different clouds of them. One of them is a good ways out over the river. I watch it on and off during the day. These things collect in clouds of swarming gnats, all buzzing around in seemingly random patterns, and yet the cloud never changes position. It never drifts one way or the other. For hours and hours, these clouds will stay in the exact same spot. I would have thought that with all the random buzzing around that the cloud might drift one way or another, especially when you consider the breeze that has been blowing all day, but no... it stays put
John has cooked up his last meal. My jerky is gone. My power bars have been consumed. Casey left his stuff with permission to eat what we want... I peek over the berm between us and the blistering silt path to the camp site where his food sits. The shade has extended over the path just enough that I can walk up the edge of the silt to get to the camp. It's still hot, but that stinging burning of the sole of the feet is gone. I find his bag and start to take inventory... sausage... cheese sticks... wine!? Geez, hehe. Casey is living large! I grab a handful of stuff and head back down to the river to share the loot with John. The cheese sticks have mostly melted. I am not a wine drinker. But I bet that sausage would taste good heated up!!
John and I spend the remainder of the afternoon pondering our situation and making alternative plans in the event Casey is not able to get back out to us today. It is already getting late in the afternoon. So unless he gets here with a way to get us across the river, we are going to be spending another night here anyway. Looking at the maps, we see that the railroad on the other side of the river follows the river roughly East and West between Kelvin and Florence. Fifteen miles to Florence. Ten miles to Kelvin. We can walk ten miles... We had been considering getting up before dawn, leaving our camping stuff here with Casey's bike, and then riding out that nasty mesa climb in the hope that it is the way out. The more we think about it though, the more that ten mile walk to Kelvin appeals to us. Leave just before dark, take the remaining food, water purifier, GPS's and flashlights, and just follow the tracks to town. Call Casey to let him know we are out, get a room for the night and something to eat, come back for the bikes tomorrow. Before long, the walk out plan is pretty much what we settle on doing.
"Do you hear that!?" Sure enough, it sounds like a motor getting closer... far side of the river... sounds big... pushing branches out of its way! And then a huge jeep thing bursts through the trees and emerges on the far shore! Is that Casey!? It is! Amazingly, he is just in time to save his food
The big rig, belonging to Casey's friend Drew
Casey wades across to give Drew an idea of the depth and speed of the water
John and I get busy breaking down camp and getting our stuff ready to go while Drew gets the jeep ready to make the crossing. After much discussion and weighing of options, Drew backs the jeep across the river, right up to the bank, and drops the tailgate. John start riding the bikes down to the rivers edge, no small feat! It takes all three of us to pull them over the last berm before the edge of the river as it is crisscrossed with HUGE tree roots and loose silt. Then he just rides the bike right into the back of the jeep bed
How sweet is that!?
[I have vids, but they are in AVI format and HUGE! I will try to upload them tonite. If anyone knows how to convert them to mpeg, let me know!]
Drew's friend... also Drew... lowers the tailgate prior to loading the bikes
Casey and John look on with great relief!
Notice the water level on the front tire... It is deeper out in the middle of the river...
That four inches the river went down really helped!
As we are getting the bikes loaded in the back of the jeep, I notice that the front of the jeep seems to be sinking! No doubt, the stiff current is washing the bottom out from under the tire. It was doing this to me earlier when I was just standing in the water. I just gradually sank deeper and deeper. Drew informs us that we need to get moving before the front sinks too deep and the engine is stalled! We get my bike, Casey's bike, and our gear loaded. John will wait for the next trip.
On the ride across, the motor of the jeep starts making odd noises...
Hopefully, it is not getting any water in the intake! It would suck to not be able to get John across...
Drew lets the jeep idle for a bit to dry out
A good view looking back at our camp and a small ridge behind it
Drew (the other Drew) wades across to help us unload the KLR and DR
All snuggled up, safe and dry...
Preparing to unload the KLR and DR
Drew explains to Drew how to use the scuba tanks to inflate their river raft...
"So you see... this has 3000 psi in it and you want to go reallll slow because I forgot the low pressure regulator..."
"Hey guys... remember me!?"
It takes several tries to find a good line for going back for John, but eventually they make it
Preparing to unload John's KTM
Since they are already here... Drew and Drew figure on playing on the river while we get packed and ready to roll again
The other Drew is prepared to survive in the wilderness
Casey's bud from his Az days, the Elder Drew
Casey did remember to bring the Cokes, iced down even!! However, when I open the ice chest, my eyes are drawn to the chilled Gatorade. The Coke can wait... I down a liter of Gatorade over the next ten minutes or so and it hits the spot like never before
Being on the right side of the river, knowing we will soon be back in civilization, and having a nicely chilled drink, all seems right with the world again
So while we are busy getting our gear sorted and the bikes packed. The Drews decide to have a go at paddling up stream...
I can't get the video camera out fast enough to catch them paddling furiously with everything they have, only to barely hold position against the current. Elder Drew was apparently a river rafting guide at some point in his past life and he is barking orders to younger Drew concerning proper paddling technique. It is hilarious
Soon, they are drifting down stream with a promise to return for the jeep.
John and I are packed and ready to roll pretty quick. Casey doesn't pack quick, hehe. Come to think of it, Casey doesn't do much of anything quick... except ride
Soon, the elder Drew comes walking up out of the trees. It would seem they drifted a pretty good ways. He's come to get the jeep and to go retrieve the raft and the other Drew. They'll meet us at the railroad tracks so he does not have to drive the jeep back down the narrow tunnel road through the trees. The sun is starting to slip low onto the horizon. I'd really like to get out of here before dark. A short while after elder Drew leaves with the jeep, young Drew comes walking back around the corner to check on us. Casey finally gets all his stuff repacked and on the bike. I head out for the tracks to find elder Drew waiting with the jeep.
While waiting for Casey to arrive, I notice that my rear bag is flopping around more than it should. I get to checking and to my shock I find that it is not a case of loose straps as it had been earlier. This time it is broken subframe bolts where the rack bolts to the rear of the subframe!! They have simply snapped off at the nut on the frame, leaving the ends of the threads down in the nuts
Not only that, but the two bolts on the sides of the rack are loose as well and the whole rack is able to rock back and forth as if on a hinge. Well, the only thing I can do is torque down the remaining two bolts and hope they hold until we reach civilization
As I am taking care of my bike and getting my bag situated, a truck pulls up loaded with a bunch of young soldiers. The older of them, which looks to be their ranking guy, does not look all that thrilled. The younger guys, maybe 18-20 years old all look like they are having a blast. I ask if they were "playing" last night and they all respond with BIG grins. I thank them for the entertainment as they pull around us and drive off. Just then I hear this horrible noise and look up to see Casey low side his bike right in front of the railroad tracks! What the heck is he doing?
He gets his bike up and comes over to where we are and explains that he just carried a little too much speed in the corner, hit the loose stuff and the front end tucked. He seems none the worse for the wear and we are good to go.
The road leading out is deep silt. I have to remind myself that just because we are across the river, it does not mean I can relax. We still have quite a few miles to roll before we reach pavement. Buried randomly in the deep silt are large rocks waiting to kick the front end of the bike out in an unexpected direction. The front end continually wants to just keep going straight regardless of where I point it. The back end continually wants to slide out from under me when I try to put the power down to get the bike to turn. The weight up high and on the back of the bike really makes riding in this stuff a challenge! After a few miles, the road finally starts to climb up out of the river valley and run in the hills. Fortunately, the road here is wide and relatively smooth unlike the "roads" we had been riding on the other side of the river. There are huge wash board ruts, with rocks, sand and silt scattered about in the corners. However, we are able to run about a 35-40mph pace comfortably. I would love to stop and take some pictures as the sun starts casting long shadows. It is beautiful out here. At this point though we are just focused on getting to the nearest town for the night. The road twists and winds, rising and falling like a serpent strewn across the land. Eventually, we reach the paved highway and turn North for the run up to Superior.
It is a strange feeling to reach the pavement and know that the worst is over. I don't recall ever really thinking we were in serious danger. However, the experience was certainly a good reminder of the unforgiving nature of the desert environment and how quickly things could go from fun to disaster. I fall in behind Casey, his bug lights illuminating the road ahead. My normally great headlight is horrible. Something must be wrong because the beam is bouncing all over the place. I would guess something broke during a drop or maybe another bolt is broken or missing
The hum of the knobbies on the pavement is somehow reassuring. We pass by some large open pit copper mines as the last light fades from the sky. The run into Superior is a nice stretch of pavement, a relaxing way to finish the day's ride.
Once in town, we start looking for a place to air up Drew's tires on the jeep. They can't run prolonged highway speeds at such low pressure without overheating. As we are putting through town to find a gas station, we spot a little local hotel on the side of the road. We stop at a gas station a few blocks down the road. We made it... I'm hungry... It takes close to $10 in quarters to get Drew's tires aired back up to their normal pressure! While messing with this we notice that his front left shock mount has broken and the shock is just dangling from the top mount
Drew checking out the busted shock mount (notice how tall the tires are!)
The tops of his tires are about even with my seat...
While the others are airing up tires, I head back up the street to check out the little hotel. Two rooms left. Perfect. I snag them and head back to the gas station. On advice from several locals, we plan to hit Los Hermanos for dinner. I inform the others about the rooms and head over to the restaurant to secure seating for our group. When I walk in wearing full gear and covered in several days of desert grime, I get some strange looks from the locals
"Have no fear, I come in peace, just show me your pork chops!!"
The others arrive, we place our orders, suck down our drinks before the waitress barely walks away from the table, and the story telling begins! I know I am supposed to take pictures of the food, but I can't bring myself to wait that long to get started on it!
The dinner salad is great. The potatoes are great! The corn is great! The big fat pork chops are GREAT! All this for a mere $8 too! Noticing the large breakfast menu, we decide to come back in the morning! After a great dinner we all head back the hotel for some parking lot bull session and to call the wives to let them know we are still alive and kicking. Eventually Drew and Drew head back to Mesa, leaving us to turn in for the night. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. The bikes all need some TLC in return for their faithful service the last few days.
The bed is stiff and hard, the pillow to thin, the air conditioner loud and ineffective... I'm asleep before I know it...
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).
, still frustrated at the fact that I just paid to camp… in Arizona! 
so, as much as I hate the idea of missing out on another one of my favorite camp sites, maybe we’ll just make a stop there, then plan on camping at the trail head to the ruins. That would give us time to make Senator ‘Highway’ tomorrow. 
.
. I carefully opened the throttle to manage the DR’s rich hiccups, and focused on reaching the end at speed… I could see it now, the opening in the barbed wire wilderness boundary where the main road ends, and part of the Sycamore hiking trail continues. In one fluid motion I slid to a stop, leaping from the bike, frantically shedding my gear, and dashing through opening in the fence, then right, up the fence line behind the trees 
. I don’t know why this was necessary, as I was far from civilization. conveniently, the bottom wire of the barbed wire fence was barbless, and made for a nice perch…
, so after a large dosage I frantically resumed my tent pitching. I finished just in time to get a fire going before the last bit of light slipped away. Now was a good time to enjoy the Chianti that I had packed in a small plastic water bottle, along with a stick of cheddar. Enjoying my solitude, I sat on a log next to my fire and reflected on the trip thus far. Although little went as planned, I still felt as though it was a success, rich with drama and adventure, just how I like it.
Or did you eat some unsuspecting lizard?
We say our thanks and head off in search of bolts.
Sure enough, as the pilot truck gets turned around and we start following him, we have to ride on the freshly oiled side of the road 
Hmmm... My fridge is empty 
