Day 4 (Part 2) Route 66 Ride: Cool Springs to Sitgreaves Pass

After my life-restoring Dr Pepper, and yet another skin-saving application of sunscreen (the sun is bright and temps climbing into the high 30's C / high 80's F), I pedal off around the first of many switchbacks and into what will be the best magic Route 66 has yet to offer.

An ominous sign suggesting "9 Miles of Upgrade and Steep Turns" should concern me. But it doesn't. I immediately realize after almost 300 km of Route 66, we found the true road. I think I just experienced time travel!

The actual pavement screams authentic and old. For economic reasons the State of Arizona didn't do a first class upgrade on this road. The jigsaw maze of cracks filled with tar give the road an honorable appearance, like an elder statesman.

I don't see many guard rails between myself and the ever-present cliff-like slope at the edge of the road to my right. I make note to respect this road for the next long hour or so.

The steep and the heat bother me not at this moment. I am having an out of body experience. With no effort of imagination, I can see and hear the heavily ladened Depression Era cars squeezing carefully around these curves. I can see military transports shuffling soldiers and supplies to and from the West Coast ports and heartland of America.

At this moment, history lives. All the map gazing and googling of the past several months come to life. A moment where past, present, and future synchronize and speak to me. I find myself in and part of the story. 

The next nine miles (15 km) should be, from a cycling perspective, possibly the most physically demanding hours of our entire trip. But it doesn't feel that way right now. Lots of exciting moments distract me from the pain of pedaling uphill. Around every one of these hairpin switchbacks vibrant colours and striking geology create a new world.

Traveling a few minutes ahead of me, James and Bry spy a staircase cut out of the cliff rocks at the base of the road. By the time I reach them, they are climbing the almost vertical wall of stairs. They disappear into a small recess in the cliff wall.

They believe the stairs once led to a small spring of water. It has long since stopped flowing. But one can appreciate how weary travelers of 85 years ago would pull off the road at this half way point to the summit to cool their engines and quench their thirst.

About this time, James or Bryan or Ben have yet another flat tire. At these brief delays. expedition members encourage me to ride on ahead. The theory being that with a head start for me afforded by these repairs the guys won't have to wait for me too long after they pass me in a few minutes and reach the summit ahead of me.

On this head start I pedal ahead and discover on my left a rather ramshackle collection of dilapidated, but lived in, mobile home type trailers. On the right hand side of the road I see a now very extensive, but now very deserted array of make-shift shelters and buildings.

I have arrived at a metaphorical wide spot (because there are not any literal wide spots in this segment of the road) once known as "Ed's Camp."

Ed Edgerson stomped around these mountains looking for gold around 1917. Soon he noticed that most of the gold on this side of the mountain rolls right past his little property in the pockets of Route 66 travelers.

So by 1920, Ed created an establishment featuring a restaurant, "The Kactus Kafe," a gas station, a few cabins for rent, and a campground, probably one of the first RV Parks in North America.

I cannot discover when Ed's Camp officially closed for business, but judging by the extreme degree of structural deterioration (A very slow process in this very dry climate) I would guess Ed's Camp hasn't produced a Saturday night incident in a good many years.

Which brings me to one of my stranger, more mysterious moments of this trip. As I straddle my bike taking pictures of Ed's Camp, I hear a raucous from the dilapidated trailer behind me on the other side of the road. Sounds like two people yelling. I don't really pay that much attention to the noise. (You need to remember I am a marriage counsellor and I am largely desensitized to such sounds :-)

But the next sound takes me right out of my skin and activates my entire sensory network -- two gunshot blasts!

I suspect pistol discharges.  But no one screamed in pain. In fact, the yelling couple continued without missing a beat. Nor did I. I'm out of here!

(In retrospect, I should have warned the three sons behind me. But they reported later a non-eventful pass by Ed's Camp. Ironically, upon returning home weeks later, I would read an Internet story of people being chased away from here by gunshots and rabid dogs!)

Now I am just a few kilometers from the summit. If I had known what to look for, and had that laser eye surgery I dream of, I could see a faint trace of Lt. Beale's 1857 Route 66 Desert Road Prototype snaking along the edges of these slopes around me.

Then around a bend and I'm at the summit. Bro Mark stands there grinning as his bike leans against the "Sitgreaves Pass Elevation 3550 ft" sign. The high point of our day, and I believe the third highest point on our entire trek.

Have you seen pictures of mountain trails snaking along ridges in the Alps? And on each side of the ridge a nearly straight down cliff?

In a similar way, so presents Sitgreaves Pass. The abruptness of the slopes to the east and west almost create a fear of height for me. Strange being able to see so far down on both sides at the same time.

I realize at this moment how stranage and true a little historical fact about this section if highway must be true: Many people drove up this road backwards!

You must recall that automobile technology was different in 1926. Electronically assisted hi tech computerized fuel injection was science fiction.

Eighty years ago many cars relied on a technology utilizing a simple gravity feed fuel supply system. This reliably provided fuel to the engine as long as the gas tank was level or slightly higher than the engine, most of the time. Up and down hills were no problem. Down hill was no problem. But long, long stretches of relentless, consistent climbing was a bad situation. The fuel in the tank had no help from gravity to reach the engine. Your car engine eventually just sputtered and stopped.

But problems cultivate American problem solving skills. These courageous Route 66'ers of a few generations past would not be deterred by primitive technology or relentlessly ascending mountain roads.

Our fearless forefathers on Route 66 would often just turn their auto around and -- no joke -- drive it up these steep roads backwards, in their reverse gear! It worked. Got the gas tank on the uphill side of gravity. Creative, eh?

I also immediately notice a large increase in air temperature. The air blowing up the west side of the Black Mountains feels like it has been oven heated. I can see the Colorado River way way in the distance at an elevation of 500 ft (150 m). Mostly downhill from here. Happy thought. Especially in this sun and heat.

Speaking of seeing things, what a view from here! I can see the soil of four American states from this piece of earth: California to the west and south; Nevada and Utah to the north; Arizona to the east and south. Truly "big sky country," as the cowboys would say.

We get pictured at Sitgreaves Pass

Ben acting out a bout of OCD (Overexposure Cycling Disorder) and attempting to throw his bike over the embankment.

Bryan and James exploring the steps carved out of the cliff.
They believe these steps once led to a natural spring which flowed from the side of the mountain.

Climbing toward the Pass.

An incredible spectrum of natural beauty on the east side of the Black Mountains.

Ed's Camp

Look very closely just a fraction left of centre.
See the Wild Burro.
Released by or escaped from Miners over the past 100 years, these creatures roam freely.
Great job of blending in, eh?

Looking east as we head west and up toward the Pass.
We started our day at the base of the mountains in the background.

Ben behaving in a way his mother would not approve.
(There are cliffs on three sides of his person.)

James behaving in a way that his mother would not approve and Michelle, his wife, probably wouldn't either.
(Cliffs on three sides.)

Bryan behaving in a way his mother, his wife, and young son might not approve.
(Cliffs on three sides.)

Looking west from Sitgreaves Pass.
Somewhere out there is the Colorado River and the end of our ride.
Very steep downhill ride from here to the mining town of Oatman.

Sitgreaves Pass is the small dip on the far horizon.

Pausing at Sitgreaves Pass.
Mark isn't on his bike because he is taking the picture.

Looking east down the Pass towards Kingman.

Kent behaving in a way his mother would not approve, but his wife, Debbie, might not protest because his insurance is paid up and he worth more dead than alive :-)