Open Miles: The Deplorable Desert

There are some points in your life, when a friendship comes to an abrupt and unfortunate end. When one second you think you have a pal, only to be crossed the next - stabbed in the back in a terrible display of hatred and hostility. An act so horrid, you vow to never return, never to confront the traitor again.

Shame on you Sonoran Desert. I thought we where friends.

It's the land that started off beautiful, engulfing much of southern Arizona and stretching west to the mountains of California. Filled with magnificent cacti and cloudless skies, we were like three peas in a pod.

And then, on one fateful night, everything changed. So forget you Sonoran - we're on the coast now, and we don't need you.

Day #39: Tamarisk Grove Campground to San Diego, CA

What happened that night must have been some sort of sick and cruel joke. The terrible winds that we fought so intensely during the day had morphed into a fierce sand storm of swirling death over night. We woke up covered in sand (partially my fault for leaving the rain fly open), overturned bikes, and sand covering all our belongings.

The desert sucker-punched us in our sleep, and left us feeling cold and empty. Angry, disgruntled, and covered in sand, we packed up camp. At least we would be climbing some mountains today...

As we biked out of the campground, TJ and I began hopelessly laughing - vicious gusts of wind were slamming us in the face. At this point TJ was about ready to kill me, since I was the reason we diverted off of the planned course. This was my "slightly extended tour of the mountains," aimed at keeping us off of the interstate and in the high country...although at this point it seemed more like a suicide mission.

Alas, we plowed on, slowly working towards the mountains, grasping onto the slight hope that the slopes would shield us from the wind. Luckily, we were right. After a few miles of struggling, we entered the beautiful foothills of the costal range, and began climbing out of the horrors the lay behind us.

What happened next was better than we ever could have imagined. As the road wound further west, we climbed into a beautiful array of fall foliage and sloping mountain sides. We pedaled in constant awe of what surrounded us, and how quickly the desert was left behind.

Before we knew it, we had climbed past 4,000 feet (working up from 120 feet), where we found the town of Julian (The coolest town in America"). Since we heard tales of delicious pie, we had to stop and take a look around.

...And thus ensued TJ and I gorging ourselves to the verge of vomiting.

The first stop was Mom's Pie House, were we bought an entire strawberry-rubarb-crumb pie for $10, and devoured the entire thing. They were so impressed with us, that they gave us free cinnamon ice cream for desert. Next was The Julian Cafe, where they were oddly still serving breakfast. Against the waitress' advice, we both ordered gigantic stacks of pancakes, and continued to eat every last bite.

We felt disgusting...and then we had to keep biking.

Unfortunately, it was about 40 degrees and the mountains were entirely socked in with clouds, so our views were very nonexistent.

Overall, our trek over the costal range was pretty anticlimactic. Although the ascent was top-notch, there was no marked (or evident) pass, and the decent was full of rolling hills. San Diego was in our grasp though, so we continued plowing on.

We crushed the last miles, arriving at our friend Cathy's house in style (and before the sun went down!)

Miles Crushed: 84

Pies Eaten: 1

Day #38: Brawley to Tamarisk Grove Campground

With my knee still hurting in the morning (although thankfully moderately better), I contemplated taking a rest day while Bill stuffed delicious chorizo burritos down our throats. We decided to ride again though - after all, that's the best way to recover.

The first few miles were nothing to write home about - just a poorly designed (and busy) road that took us so close to the Salton Sea that we just barely couldn't see it.

I stopped again to ice my knee before we made a turn into a horrible headwind. Cue "a terrible day of riding in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by sand with the wind in our faces, on a slight uphill grade." The miles dragged on...

There was nothing to look at, just miles and miles of sand in every direction. We rode through a long stretch of Ocotillo Wells, where off-roading / ATV usage is abundant. Unfortunately for us though, it was Tuesday, and apparently everything is closed during the week.

It was pretty hilarious actually - at one point we were so mentally exhausted that we planned on camping at an upcoming RV park after 35 miles. We were so excited to get there, plowing through the relentless desert wind at 6 mph with all our might...except when we finally got there, they were closed. Luckily we were at least able to sneak through the gate and procure some questionable (non-potable) water from the bathroom.

We pushed on, eventually finding the Tamarisk Grove Campground in the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. We were incredibly glad that we went as far as we did, with the campground only costing $5 (thank you hike & bike). The host even gave us some free wood so we could finally build a campfire.

Check out this crazy plane that landed in the middle of the desert: