2018 Bicycle trip across America

68.57 miles today.....Mesa, AZ to Picacho Peak, AZ.  Wow! It was a rough start, or should I say finish, to the days ride, but more about that later. After climbing the walls for a week while we waited to get the Rv out of the shop, we finally got on the road. Training hasn't been going so well because the entire week before leaving was in the mid100's.  Some days were record setting heat, even by the desert standards. I chose not to ride in that kind of conditions, and the week before that was spent in Hawaii, where I did manage to rent a bike for a couple of confidence building rides. It obviously wasn't enough, but more about that later.                         The day started off with a decent headwind, and 8:00 am temperatures in the 80's. The first 20 miles felt pretty good, throughout Queen Creek and San Tan Valley, which are basically suburbs of the Phoenix metro area. I stopped and had a burger and a Coke, before I really wanted it, but I had a feeling things might get pretty desolate between San Tan and our final destination. Good thing I did, because there was not one, single place to get a drink for hours. As the day went on, the temps kept inching up, but the killer was the headwind. It was beating up my legs pretty good, as the heat also topped out at about 97. There was a road construction detour at the edge of San Tan, that took me about four miles out of my way. Then, my GPS girl took me on a sketchy looking road, Chin Road to be exact, that turned into a damn dirt road. There were 'no trespassing'  signs, and 'open pit' signs, but I figured 'what the hell,' and kept on going. Turns out I was on  Indian reservation land, the Gila tribe to be exact, and they don't believe in pavement because it scars their sacred land. The road bounced between big gravel, deep sand, and being totally unidentifiable. It was my first 'adventure' of the trip. I saw a coyote and a road runner, and kept my eye out for the feral dogs that reservations are known for.( I do have my bear spray and a Bear Gryllis knife with me). That road went on for about five miles of very slow progress, sometimes walking through deep sand. I even walked through the bed of the Gila River, which of course is just a dry wash.  It was taking way longer than I wanted this ride to take, so I didn't stop in the town of Coolidge, home of the Casa Grande ruins.  That would be my last sign of civilization until Picacho Peak. The damn wind was howling into my face at this point, as I got on a frontage road along I 10, which I would follow to the campground where Pam was already set up and enjoying some downtime at the pool.  About 5 pm, when I should have been in the pool, I was still struggling along, waterless, into a side wind. I started getting crampy, and I knew that wasn't good. I only had about five miles to go when I texted Pam and warned her that I might cramp up and need a ride. I muscled it through some minor leg lock, until I got hit with the big one. I called for Pam to bail me out, so she had to detach the Jeep from the Rv and come and get me. I tried riding while I waited, but that didn't go too well. By the time she came, which was pretty quickly, I was 1.35 miles from the campground, but couldn't finish. Boy, did that piss me off.  I lost seven pounds as I pounded into that damn wind, and turned into a salt pillar with the seven percent humidity of the day. But that's what I signed up for. Pam made spaghetti and meat sauce, fed me, hydrated me, and didn't laugh to much when those occasional cramps would bite into my leg.
On another note,  the sight of our campground just happened to be in the sight of the western most battle of the War between the States. I guess Arizona toyed with being a member of the Confederacy, and a small group of blue coats and gray coats had a little gunfire, therefore making it the western most battle of the War.