Day Six: car wash, the tradition, massage

I woke up at 4:00 and wasn't able to fall back asleep. (There's just something really wrong about that) My alarm went off at 4:40 and we started getting our gear together. Klaus gave me some of his Mueslix for breakfast and after getting everything loaded onto the bike we were on the road by 5:15.

It was still dark, but there weren't any cars on the road. And, most importantly, it was cool.

Klaus has a headlight powered by a generator (which is INSIDE his hub) and we both have taillights. We pedaled through the dawn and into the rising sun.

After about thirty miles we stopped for a break in Aguila (pop. 600) to refill our water bottles and buy some Gatorade. There were some high school girls on the side of the road holding signs about a car wash. I was wondering how they made any money - Aguila is the largest town around, off the beaten path since everyone uses I-10, and it only has a population of 600. I don't think five cars passed during the time we were there. Still, they were very enthusiastic and having fun.

On the way out of town a guy was crossing the road. I could tell he wanted to talk so I stopped. His name was Dave and he's interested in starting up a place for bicyclists to stop and camp. We showed him our maps and told him if he wants bikers to come he needs to get on the Adventure Cycling Association's list of services so he can be included. A couple of minutes later we mentioned Adventure Cycling Association again and he said, "Huh? Oh. I should write that down." Then he began talking about his plans again.

Klaus gives him a thirty percent chance of opening his camp.

We went through the town of Love and, like yesterday's town of Hope, we made our corny jokes.... "I'm in Love," "I'm not falling in Love," "I'm no longer in Love." har har

Once we left Aguila there were no other places to stop until Wickenburg. We even looked for small patches of shade on the side of the road. It was heating up fast.

We passed the Vulture Mountains on our right and, a little later, Eagle Eye Peak. I always love seeing the names of places on my trips.

Because we're traveling east, the sun is generally on our right. Interestingly, since Klaus has been going east for the past six months, everything on the right side of the bike is faded. I've been strategically putting more sunscreen on my right side so it's more protected.

Sometime that morning one of Klaus' spokes broke. On a touring bike, unlike on a racing bike (some of which only have four spokes), a broken spoke isn't an emergency so he made a mental note to fix it at the hotel.

Klaus has a tradition. At every 1000th kilometer he drinks a beer. He tries to find an appropriate beer depending or what country he's in.

After consulting his map he realized that he would hit his 12,000th kilometer BEFORE Wickenburg so he started looking for a place to get one.

In this part of the state not only are there very few towns along the road, there are very few houses, so I was surprised when I saw Klaus pulling over to the other side of the road.

He rolled up to a locked gate at the end of a dirt driveway and a dog immediately started barking. A man had emerged from the house, a single-wide mobile home set back from the gate an additional fifty yards, and was walking across the dirt yard to his truck. Klaus called to him and he strolled over to us.

He was in his early twenties, stockily built like a guy who might like to ride bulls for fun. Or perhaps wrestle them. He had short blonde hair and a serpentine tattoo on the right side of his neck.

After he made his way over to us, Klaus explained his situation... That he's from Germany, that he's riding his bike around the world, and that every 1000 kilometers he stops and drinks a beer. Drinking a beer seemed to appear a perfectly normal thing to do at 10:30 in the morning, so the guy walked back toward his house to talk to his wife.

I could hear part of what he said above the dog. "There's a German guy wants a beer.... on a bike."

He returned a few minutes later with three cans of beer, then immediately cracked one open and took a swig. Klaus then had to explain that he couldn't drink it yet - he had to wait until the 1000th kilometer. Then he tried to pay the guy but he wouldn't take any money.

Except for the last fifteen miles, the road to Wickenburg was a slow, gradual climb. We stopped regularly, drank a lot of water, and did a lot of sweating.

The landscape was now looking like scenery from an old western movie, and I kept expecting to see John Wayne ride past us in the distance. Saguaro cacti dotted the desert, and it was quite striking.

From mark on a bike 08

We rolled into Wickenburg (pop. 5082) about noon. Klaus was keeping a close eye on his odometer and when he said, "Here! This is 12,000 kilometers," we were within 100 yards of our hotel.

Having been raised in Texas, where in some counties you have to fail a sobriety test to get a driver's license, I'm ashamed to admit that I don't like beer. It just tastes too.... beer-like. Still, this is a momentous event and I didn't want to diminish the importance of it by saying to my new German friend that I didn't want any beer.

He opened the two cans of HOT beer and we took some pictures of the occasion. After a few swallows he said, "God, this is awful," and we poured the rest out.

A GERMAN guy pouring out beer?!? Wow. Mark you calendars.

From mark on a bike 08

From mark on a bike 08

At the hotel we unpacked, showered, then walked across the street to El Ranchero, a Mexican food restaurant. Good Mexican food has been notoriously hard to find since I moved to the Midwest so I've been eating it on a regular basis now that I'm farther south.

Even just walking across the street was painful because of the heat. The food was pretty good, and Klaus ate his first sopapilla there.

Back in our room I laid down. In an attempt to make up for waking up so early I thought I might take a nap. I drifted to that stage just before you fall asleep, but that's as far as I got.

Once I realized I wouldn't be taking a nap, I thought how great it would be to get a massage. When we lived in Rochester our friend Joanne told us about a woman who would come to your house and give you a massage for a really reasonable fee. Although we never took advantage of it, it seemed like a great idea, and I wondered if there might be someone here who would offer the same type of service. So, I looked in the yellow pages and called. Perhaps I should've tried harder to take a nap.

As soon as the words came out, "I was wondering if you would come to my motel room to give me a massage," I realized how it sounded. "Uhhhh.... I... uhhh... don't really... do that," she tactfully replied, and had the kindness not to hang up on me. Or call the police.

A storm blew through, depositing ten or twelve large, gloppy raindrops, and the temperature dropped to pleasantly tolerable, so I sat out by the pool and blogged.

That evening we had pizza and root beer delivered to our room, then Klaus replaced his broken spoke.

I set my alarm for 4:30 and we turned the lights off at 10:15.

From mark on a bike 08

55.259 distance
11.5 avg
4:48:23 time
? ? ? Cumulative