Day 5, Thursday, September 12

Today I recovered really well from yesterday. I was a little stressed out in the morning when I discovered that I was the last person to breakfast -- I had thought that everyone would be taking it easy and that I would have some extra time, but I had to rush through breakfast to make up for my tardiness and get on the road at a reasonable time.

In the morning I was still horribly tired and stiff from yesterday. When we got on Interstate 40 about a mile from the hotel I was briefly tempted to take the west exit heading back towards Los Angeles rather than continuing east. After some short climbs early on, however, I found myself with my energy back and my legs didn't complain too much as long as I didn't push them too hard. Last night I wasn't sure how I would recover from the day's ride to make it through the rest of the trip, but I guess a little of the "hair of the dog that bit me" was exactly what I needed. I wouldn't think that more riding would make me feel rested, but after today's ride, like I said, I feel like my energy is back and my legs feel much less sore than yesterday. We're not going to have another easy day until Day 9, however, so for the next three days I'm going to have to knuckle down again, although hopefully the riding will be easier than yesterday.

Part of what made today so easy is that we had a net elevation loss -- from 7,000 to 5,000' altitude -- so we spent more miles descending than climbing. We earned that downhill yesterday. So, hard days on PAC Tour are harder than training rides at home -- since we sometimes end at higher elevations than we start at -- and easier days are easier, because we sometimes ride more miles going down than up, if that makes any sense.

The wide, open sky of aerobar country.

Yesterday in Williams, after spending most of the day riding north from Wickenburg rather than our usual east, we were about sixty miles south of the Grand Canyon. Today in Winslow, we are close to the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. My parents showed me photos from visits to both places they took a few years ago and both looked very beautiful so someday I'll have to get back here to sight-see. To get to Winslow, we passed through the Navajo reservation that William Least Heat Moon passed through when writing Blue Highways. I enjoyed reading that book so riding through the country on a roadtrip of my own was exciting for me. We descended for miles through wide open plains with red earth, blue sky, and puffy white clouds.

A scared stray puppy hiding under the lunch truck hopes for hand outs.

There were lots of stray dogs in the few towns we passed through. A homeless puppy was even hiding under the lunch truck hoping for handouts. I joked to Susan that I thought Bisti needed a playmate but she didn't seem convinced. I took a photo of the puppy hiding under the truck and realized that I probably had more photos of dogs on the trip than of fellow cyclists, so I took the last few photos that I had for the day of riders eating lunch. I rode by the last rest stop as Jim from Wisconsin was still setting it up, and two hopeful strays were sitting watching his every move vigilantly, waiting for the action to start and the food to come out.

Gratuitous photo of riders at lunch to balance out all of my dog photos. Going counter-clockwise and starting at the left, that's Troy, Steve, Alan, Randy, Mike, Nancy, Nancy, Rick, Peter, Judith, and John.

Second to riding, the hardest part of PAC Tour is getting ready in the evenings for the next day. Getting organized takes a lot of time. After I get into the hotel, I clean my bike (which requires more work on some days than others, like if it's wet out versus dry); wash my cycling clothes in the sink and hang them up to dry; clean my water bottles and CamelBak bladder; shower; eat dinner; write my daily log; lay out my clothes, route sheet, and other items for the next day; set the alarm; brush my teeth; and stretch. Written as a list it doesn't sound like a lot, but it adds up and there's lot of details to remember. Like if I get a flat during the day I have to remember get a fresh tube from my stash box and put the punctured tube someplace where I'll remember to patch it.

On a day like today, where I got in at 1:30, I have plenty of time to recover, but when I don't get in until 5:00, like the first day and yesterday, I end up not getting quite as much sleep as I'd like. When I train a lot at home I tend to need ten to twelve hours of sleep a night so I thought I could re-create that on the road. I've been getting only about seven hours of sleep each night, although that's probably enough. My evening routine involves dumping the entire contents of my gear bag onto the hotel room floor and bed, and slowly packing things back up as I use what I need. Eventually everything becomes orderly again, but the mess I make in the process is a little scary. My goal is to have everything set before I go to bed so I have to think as little as possible at 5am the next morning.

Finding dinner can be the most challenging part of the ritual since the hotel isn't always close to a restaurant. My ideal would be to be across the street from a grocery store every night so I could grab salads and sandwiches and yogurt and fresh water and eat while I get ready. That hasn't happened yet, though. Some nights we aren't even close to a convenience store for bottled water. Tonight we ate at a restaurant in town called Falon. It was a couple of miles away from the hotel so one of the owners actually shuttled us back and forth to the restaurant all evening. I was worried that the whole process would be a little slow, but I'm glad I went. I had a big stack of pancakes, a salad, home fries, and orange juice. The owner was Native American and he said he has an accounting business on the side to help out with income when tourist season dies down and the restaurant doesn't get as much business. The food was tasty and dirt cheap and I was glad to help support him. My other option was to buy several cans of Spagettios from the Texaco down the street since the Chinese restaurant that was close by looked a little scary. The owner also seemed very proud of his town, pointing out sites to us on the drive from the hotel.

At dinner I mentioned to my fellow cyclists that I have been having lower back pain that I thought was caused by its having to support my belly that is distended from all of the water and sports drinks that I've been imbibing lately. I thought I was half kidding but apparently other people have been having the same bloating problem as well. Another funny story is that yesterday, at one point Manfred, who is from Germany and speaks English a little less than fluently, almost got onto I-40 going back west rather than east. I yelled out to him before he got on the Interstate, and fortunately he heard me the second time because I didn't have the energy to go chasing after him. I was confused by the route sheet, too, but it seemed to make sense that we wanted to head east. A hitchhiker was sitting on the east on-ramp so I asked him if a bunch of cyclist had passed that way. He said, "Yes, this is the way to Ash Fork." I thanked him and when I rode into Ash Fork twenty or so miles later I saw the same hitchhiker, again sitting on the east I-40 on-ramp, waiting for his next ride. I waved to him and he waved back. Apparently hitching gets you places about the same rate as cycling so maybe I'll see him in a few weeks in Charleston.

Tomorrow is supposed to be 122 miles with 4350' of climbing -- a little steeper than on the original schedule. The next day I think is the longest of the trip, with about 160 mi, and the day after that is also moderately difficult, so hopefully I can get through each day without too much stress about falling behind. At some point I'm theoretically supposed to be getting stronger, so maybe that switch will turn on soon and I'll be able to power through anything.