Saturday, October 2, 2010

Day 6: Gila to Tucson...117 miles...we're getting dumber


Day 6: Oct. 1

Well, we decided to start October off with a bang. A 117 mile bang.

At 5am, we left our comfy Gila Bend palace, ready for the longest day of our adventure yet. We didn't know what we were about to experience- a two hour climb. The funny thing about roads is that lately, it seems that all of them go up. They ascend. They are not fun to pull trailers up. The other funny thing is that people in these things called cars have no idea that a road is slightly ascending or descending because of the benefit of this thing called an engine. I too was one of these people, but can now attest that a one degree incline over the course of two hours makes for a long morning.

Enough complaints.

The ride out of Gila Bend was beautiful. The sun came up through the mountains just as it would in one of those 50s cowboy's movies. Jacques and I gave some hollers out into the desert hoping for a native american reply, but to no avail. Had people heard us, they would have thought we were crazy (and they probably would have been correct).

We also met a group of riders doing a cross country trip. They are from a Phoenix church raising money for Haiti. They were traveling the "right" way, as they had a sag vehicle that carried all their belongings, food, and water. We are all taking a similar route and hopefully will meet up again next week.

The other thing we've noticed the past couple of days is the massive number of Border Patrol vehicles roaming the highway and side streets. These lifted and desert ready Suburbans and Jeeps cruise by at rapid speed, always seeming to have a destination in mind. Apparently the stretch of Highway 8 we took is renowned for being a gateway for illegal immigrants to pass on their way into the US.

And now for a quick related story. Drum roll please. Jacques is faster than I am, and therefore I spend most of my time at least 100 yards trailing him on my bike. All of a sudden in the desert I saw a man with a red shirt or backpack running towards the highway right as Jacques was passing. From my perspective, it looked like the person was going to tackle Jacques. I started yelling at the person, but at the last second he or she jumped into a tunnel underneath the highway. That was a close one. I'm sure they were more scared to hear a white man's yelling than Jacques and I were to see them scurry through the desert.

Some of these immigrants spend 15 days in the desert making their way to safe houses or safe cars. Jacques and I have another story about how we learned this, but I'll save that for a less public forum.

Anyways, We rode about 70 miles before noon, took a two hour lunch break, filled up with water, and then got on Interstate 10 towards Tucson. We found some safer frontage roads, and ended up staying on those until about 7pm as we headed into Tucson.

Brittany, Jacques' wife, and her aunt Shannon and uncle Mike met us on the side of the highway just as the clock stuck 8pm. They gave us a lift to their house where spaghetti and fresh sour dough bread awaited us. We decided to take a long break in Tucson over the weekend, and we will get a ride to the same spot on the highway Monday morning. No cutting corners here.

Thanks for everyone's continued support.

p.s. Thanks Greg and Jason for the picture texts. (Despite Jason's picture, I assure you he is still a reputable home builder).

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Bet I know how you found out about the immigrants...