We were up at 5am to try to beat the wind. We were packing up camp when Marge from across the way invited us in for coffee and muffins. Marge, originally from Manhattan, retired down here for the warmer weather. Last night when Scott and I stumbled in to the Safford Ranch, beat up from fighting the wind all day, we failed to realize that this is an adult living community. We just saw the RVs and asked if we could stay the night. They were too nice to point out that we don’t meet their definition of “adult”. We are meeting lots of retirees and seniors who live full-time in RVs, traveling with the seasons. We LOVE places that cater to these types of travelers. It’s like living in a community of grandparents. Grandparents are awesome, you can never have too many.
After our coffee break with Marge we had to scoot. We decided we were staying in the saddle until the wind picked up. We’ll do anything to avoid riding through headwind. I think it’s given us a touch of PTSD. It was 37 miles before we took our first break. The wind never did materialize, we just got hungry.
We were having such a nice ride, we decided to test that luck with a 30 mile detour down a dirt road to a reservoir at the Gila River Coolidge Dam. In retrospect, this was a bad idea. I’m not sure how this was ever a good idea. The road was rough and washboardy. It was like wrapping my body around a giant shake weight.
This is a stretch of half decent road.
I learned the Arizona desert fly can fly really fast (or at least as fast as the slowest biker) and they are annoyingly persistant buggars.
Due to years of drought, our destination amounted to little more than a shallow pool of dead and dying fish. There was no swimming in this murky water.
But Scott got to see a mama bear with her two cubs and I saw lots of saguaro cactus (my favorite!) and other crazy desert plants so it wasn’t a total loss.