Californian trip 01 - part III

Notice: Time - includes short stops at traffic lights, studying the map, etc.

Although I had finished the uphill section by sunrise and the next 17 km were even slightly downhill, I was already tired of cycling. Those 17 km to Death Valley Junction seemed endless. A local man told me that not as many cyclists were travelling through the valley as the previous summer. After he advised me to keep going if I wanted to reach Shoshone before noon, I set off again.

According to the map, I had already completed the three worst climbs, and the "rest" of the journey should be mostly flat or rolling. I had even passed the hottest part of the trip. So I hoped I could increase my average daily distance a little. I needed to, because I was beginning to run short of time.

I still had two-thirds of my journey ahead of me. With just one stop in the middle of nowhere, I managed to reach Shoshone. During the hot midday hours, I rested in the shade with four young travellers from my country whom I met in this small village. I was already tired of drinking water, so I bought two litres of "Dr. Pepper" for $3. In the evening, I moved on towards Tecopa Hot Springs. Right in the middle of the village, you can bathe in a hot spring. There are four baths - two for women and two for men. Bathing is nude, which is why the facilities are separated for women and men. I was told that the water from these hot springs was among the healthiest in the world.

In Death Valley, I had met Frank Pauuier, who told me about this place, and now our paths crossed again. I met the rest of his family as well. They were travelling in a motorhome and were very kind, providing me with a supply of water. As night approached, I had to continue because the distances between villages were getting longer. Villages were the best places to spend the hottest hours around midday.

My trip had changed into travelling early in the mornings, late in the evenings, and at night. There was a full moon, and I did not encounter many cars, so travelling at night was not too difficult. On the other hand, I could not see very much, and during the long, hot midday hours I was simply losing time. But the worst part was the psychological pressure: "You have to make it to the next village, or the midday sun will burn you." I was in the middle of the Mojave Desert. A strong wind was blowing directly into my face, and I was moving very slowly. After four hours, I was quite exhausted, but at least I had reached Baker. I felt that my trip was no longer fun and was beginning to feel like torture. Baker is situated on Interstate 15 between L.A. and Las Vegas.

I was thinking about the next section of my planned trip through Mojave National Preserve to Joshua Tree NP. The next place with a theoretical ¹⁾ opportunity to leave the desert without travelling by bike was 200 km away. I took at least a two-hour break in a Mexican restaurant and was grateful for the air conditioning. Then I went to the local information centre to find out about water sources. In an emergency, I should be able to find water about every 80 km. Well, I was tired, so I decided to stay near Baker for the night and see how I felt the next day.

The morning was a little cooler. OK, let's go south. After an hour of pedalling along the almost flat Kelbaker Rd, I realised how much my attitude had changed. There was almost no change in the scenery. Then I pictured the map in my mind, with an even longer stretch of perfectly straight road waiting for me near Twentynine Palms. Enough is enough. I turned around and headed back to Baker.

At the bus stop and gas station, I waited to see whether a bus driver would be willing to take me and my bike. In the meantime, I kept looking at the map spread out on a table, with my bike beside me. A few people stopped to ask where I was from and where I was going. One of them was David Bacon. I was stunned by his question: "Would you like a ride?" I did not hesitate for a moment.

First, we drove to a Coca-Cola warehouse south of L.A. and then through the huge urban area north to Frazier Park. This village is in the Los Padres National Forest. David had been driving for his father-in-law's Hagler Trucking company for two years. After several beers and watching a concert from Woodstock, I went to sleep thinking, "It was almost like going from Hell to Paradise." David, thanks a lot!!!