Route 66 Day 2 September 15 2012

Route 66 Day 2

I think we all slept well last night after our almost 90 km-lots-of-uphill riding yesterday.

But yesterday's uphill, Bro Mark, Our Fearless Leader By Declaration, appropriately warns us will feel like the Little League compared to today's ride. We will all learn and confirm that he wasn't joking or exaggerating.

We all confer outside of the Copperstate Motel Room 9 (aka Central Command Headquarters for Commander In Chief Boss Hog Bro Mark Shelley) and decide not to go for the super sized he-man cardio collapsing breakfast at the one and only local diner.

(I believe the younger men in our expedition later evaluated this was a less effective choice, and would respectfully challenge this "eat a light breakfast" philosophy in the days ahead.)

So an alternative breakfast (at least for bro Mark and I) of ice cream sandwiches was secured at the local convenience store. I believe the meal would have been more nutritiously complete had I added a large Dr Pepper to the menu.

So refueled on our breakfast of simple carbs, we strike out west on Route 66.

But not exactly.

We actually have to get on US Interstate 40. But just for a few minutes.

(Most of Route 66 has been replaced by the Interstate System. But once we get off this short stretch of the Interstate, we will be pedaling on the longest remaining uninterrupted stretch of Route 66 -- 192 miles or 350 km.)

We all choose to be law abiding citizens obeying the sign on the Interstate commanding us to restrict our bicycle travel to the shoulder of the Interstate. I, for one, am very grateful for this piece of government insight because I was seriously thinking I would ride my bike in the automobile and truck lanes. I shudder at what a lost soul I would be in life without the profound and loving guidance provided by the Government of the United States of America! "0 Say, Can You See...."

Once we exit the Interstate, the magic of Route 66 begins. Or at least the uphill begins.

But so does the beauty of an Arizona desert after several weeks of frequent rains.

Up until today, my Arizona biking experiences have been in the areas of Prescott, Tucson, and Phoenix. Rather very very desert like.

Still desert here on the outskirts of Ash Fork in more central than southern Arizona. But this desert is alive. More specifically and delightfully alive with hours and hours of roadside Yellow Daises. Some of these flowering bushes are taller than my six foot, two inches. For sure a pleasant presence and contrast to the surrounding vast desert expanse.

But climb we do. Gradual and steep. I am struggling personally to find the fun in cycling at the moment. Part of the problem being I'm still not feeling real good, physically.

But eventually I come around a curve in the road and there Bro Mark stands beside the sign announcing the elevation of 5,700 feet. Recall that yesterday morning we left Prescott at an elevation of 5,300 feet. We've been up and down a lot. But mostly up.

After a brief and refreshing downhill glide, we reach yet another huge valley floor. We can see great distances in three directions. We can also see the road we travel shooting across the big valley as straight as an arrow. The road appears to "end" at the base of yet another mountain or at least hill range way way off in the distance.

And just to make the day more interesting, we are on yet another gradual incline and facing a annoyingly unpleasant headwind. Icing on the cake, so to speak.

All this amounts to what I call the psychological warfare aspect of cycling. If I were feeling better physically, I would embrace the challenge and adventure. But today, this segment of the highway will be remembered as a literal boring pain in the butt.

Enough with the complaining.

Eventually , and thankfully about lunch time, this long piece of straight road becomes Main Street, Seligman, Arizona.

Seligman was once a prosperous community on Route 66. Then came interstate 40. Then Seligman began to die.

Then came American ingenuity and free enterprise. The business persons of Seligman were disappointed that the Interstate made their Main Street a secondary Side Street. But they were still the historic Route 66.

So park a bunch of old and classic cars along the streets and in the parking lots. Use bright lights and colors to emphasize the historic soil on which the town rests. And perk up a few 1930ish food establishments and motels, and what do you have? Something of a scaled down and slightly tired looking version of Main Street, Disneyland.

I am not being critical of Seligman. They have greatly contributed to the preservation and accessibility of this legendary road and all the sorrows and hopes that have travelled it.

But the commercialism of Seligman was heavy.

But I am not complaining because I got to eat two tacos, french fries, and a wonderful home made chocolate milk shake at the very commercialized and very tasty establishment of the Snow Cap Drive-In (That is Drive-In. Which is distinct from a Drive Thru. At a Drive-In, you park your car. In the old days, like at an A&W Root Beer Drive-In, or present day Sonic Drive-In, someone would come out to your car and take your order and bring your food to you. But these days at the Snow Cap Drive-In, you park your car and Walk-In.)

Upon leaving Seligman, we strike out in yet another "straight ahead and farther than you can see" road. 

On and on and on. 

About 25 km (15.5 mi) from our destination of Peach Springs we pass by a unique and noteworthy dot of civilization on this otherwise de-populated stretch of road.  

A very unique combination of folklore, tourist trap, paranormal, and true science -- the business enterprise associated with the Grand Canyon Caverns. 

There really are caverns.  They were literally discovered by accident by a cowboy names Walter Peck. He nearly stumbled and fell into a hole in the desert floor. This "hole" opened up into a rare "dry cave," of which fewer than 3% if the caves in the world can call themselves. Seeing a natural opportunity here, Peck hung up his spurs and started charging people 25 cents to be lowered down into the caves for a peck at the enormous rooms that could fill three football fields. 

Even though this cave is 60 miles (about 100 km) from the Grand Canyon, it does connect with it. Thus, the name. 

Over the years the Cave has produced a Native American Mummy, a fossilized Prehistoric Sloth (as distinct from many modern lazy people alive today :-), an opportunity for a Depression Era Public Work Project (resulting in a nice, new, and safe entrance to the Cave), a home for a few legendary ghosts, an underground motel room (where you can sleep and/or meet the ghost personally), and a science lab where university professors research the impact of powerful atomic size space particles striking and penetrating the surface of the earth. (And we thought UV rays were dangerous?!)

This sounds like a great place to stop and check out. 

But we didn't. 

I was too pooped to detour the several km/mi required to access this natural wonder. All my strength would be needed to reach Peach Springs. 

The young Hogs had the option of doing the cave explore. But they opted to stick with the old Hogs and proceed to the motel at Peach Springs. 

Passing the tempting allure of the Grand Canyon Caverns, we press on. More ups and downs. But mostly feels like a gradual, steady incline.

And then we find ourselves on the edge of a vast valley. Ahead and down below us is the unique town of Peach Springs. And in order to get there, all we have to do for the final few kilometers/miles is coast and brake, coast and brake.

I have one regret about these last few moments of riding on day two. Coasting down into this valley provided a beautiful view to the north. A vast expanse of mountains and desert valleys. I was awed by the sight. But after 95 km (almost 60 miles) of pedaling, my appreciation and attentiveness for natural art was waning. The thought of the swimming pool at the motel (Which I knew was there because months ago I googled the motel and saw picture of the pool) over-rode my esthetic senses.

I am, of course, at the back of the line. Son Bryan has stayed close by to make sure I didn't get lost or faint or collapse or do whatever old men do when riding bikes ridiculous distances across vast deserts in the heat of the day.

When we get to the motel, Bro Mark has already been to the desk and secured a room key.

Son Bryan is actually riding his bike around and around the motel parking lot. He is not, though he may appear to be, crazy. He is so close to claiming this day's ride as a "100 km Century Ride," he can't stop himself. 

So all five of us check into our motel room. That is room. As in one room. Singular. Two double beds. One roll away cot. Cozy. But given that this is the most expensive place we will be staying, I can understand why we share the one room.

Some Hogs line up for the shower.

Others, such as Bro Mark, Ben, and I, head for the restaurant and order very big glasses (American Size Glasses) of cold drinks like Dr. Pepper and Iced Tea. After a cold drink in the air conditioned restaurant we are feeling better despite the fact we have not had showers to scrub the grime of a whole day of heat, sweat, dirt, and at least three applications of sunscreen off our bodies.

I for one, I am actually starting to feel physically better. I am relieved. The thought of pedaling two more days feeling like I did for the past two days was not conjuring up a vision of the wonderful vacation I had imagined.

Returning to the motel room, I find the line up for the shower still lengthy. But then I remembered the pool. With little difficulty, I found it. A sun heated, salt water pool. And right beside it, a huge, bubbling hot tub.

I would not have logically concluded that lowering oneself into a hot tub while being rather hot after riding across a hot desert would be a refreshing experience. I was wrong. As I lowered myself (wearing my spandex riding shorts because I did not bring a swimsuit -- swimsuits weigh way too  much :-) into the bubbles, it was like a wave of relaxing magic enveloped my body. Every muscle sighed relief. If I was feeling good before I took the plunge, I was feeling great now. I sat there. For 30 minutes. 

After hot tub and swim we put on relatively clean clothes and head to the dining room.

Our motel is the only thriving establishment in Peach Springs. It might be the only establishment in Peach Springs. Somewhere connected with our motel is a casino operated by the Native American population of the area. We never did see the casino. But it is no doubt connected with the vast complex of which our motel is only a small part.

We are sitting down to eat our first really real meal together. And everyone is hungry. Lots of protein ordered for our table. While I am starting to feel a lot better, I am still not really hungry. But the chef salad and side order of cottage cheese (a good protein source for us active seniors :-) really hit the spot.

Back at our room, I finally get my turn in the shower. (The hot tub and pool had made me presentable enough for supper.)

I am assigned to one half of a big bed. Bro Mark gets the other side of the bed. Ben opts for the folding cot, but after 5 seconds on it decides the floor will be more comfortable. (Bro Mark mentioned this to the management the next morning and they did not charge him for it.)

I can hardly remember my head hitting the pillow. I am deaf in my left ear. This has a logistical advantage when it comes to sleeping. I sleep with my good ear against my pillow. My bad ear can just faintly detect the whistle blast and rumble of the train passing through town, quite close to our motel. It will be the first of many trains, conveniently scheduled every 15 minutes throughout the night. The motel provides free ear plugs. No joke. 

Ash Fork claims to be the "Flagstone Capital of the World." They probably are. Chances are that if you live in the Southwest and have a flagstone patio, the rock came from Ash Fork.

Boss Hog Bro Mark replenishing his simple and complex carbs and proteins at the very famous "Snow Cap" in Seligman.

I am very glad to be at the top of this climb at the top of the morning on our second day of cycling. Technically speaking, the remainder of our trip is all downhill from here. But only in a technical sense. We are going to do a lot of uping and downing before we pedal across the Colorado River two and a half days from now at an elevation of 500 ft.

An example, in my opinion, of slightly over the top commericalism in Seligman. The "people" are not real.

Locals say that the menu is always more extensive if there is not a full moon the night before.

That's my exhausted look of accomplishment after a very long day of riding about 100 km (62 mi).

Bryan all rested up and ready to roll for Day 2 of Ride,

One of dozens of old, abandoned buildings along Route 66. I can hear and see a story in each such structure.

I believe this is an unsuccessful attempt to capitalize on Route 66 nostalgia.

Ben eating yet another of his beloved hamburgers at the Snow Cap in Seligman.

I believe these are either squash or watermelon. They grow in huge natural "gardens" along Route 66. Someone said they are the great great grand-plants of produce that fell of trucks traveling this major highway many years ago.

We meet a true celebrity in Seligman. This town planted the story idea in the mind of a movie creator which later became the Pixar movie, "Cars."

Captain Arizona

Route 66, Ash Fork.

James ready to ride Day 2.

Very old sections of Route 66 are occasionally seen and not to be traveled.

This sign in our Peach Springs motel was accurate. Every 15 minutes, 24 hours a day.

Originally, the Santa Fe railway ran right through Ash Fork. But the line was moved south of the town at a later date. Some say that the relocation of the rail line was actually the beginning of the end of Ash Fork's glory days; even more so than Route 66 being trumped by the Interstate Highway 40. The old railway once crossed over this creek.

American/Canadian James chatting with a Scot from Australia. Route 66 attracts many from around the world.

World Famous Snow Cap Drive In. Built from scrap lumber in 1953. Still operated by Juan Delgadillo's family. My business card is now one of thousands which decorate the interior walls.

Bro Mark at a high point.

Came across this decommissioned bridge between Seligman and Peach Springs. I had a moment of "ah" when I realized that an Aunt and Uncle of mine crossed this very bridge in the 1930's as they headed from Texas to California to create a new life out west. Bro Mark says he and I probably crossed this bridge as children on some of our many trips to Texas as kids.

A big beautifulness all around us.

Ben getting ready to roll on Day 2.

It's a long long road, with hardly a winding turn.

At lunch at the Snow Cap, Bryan explains to Mark that if we are pedaling uphill, then Mark should not keep saying to us, "It's all downhill from here."

Snow Cap Drive In Patio, Seligman, Arizona

In Seligman, Arizona

Our brief stretch of Interstate Riding on Saturday Morning, Day 2, Just West of Ash Fork.

Definitely not the End!

The majority of Route 66 parallels the Train Tracks. Many trains a day roar and roll past us. Most carrying shipping containers and transport truck trailers. The railway seems well and alive in this part of America.

James and Mark resting as they await my arrival at our Peach Spring Casino & Motel. I would have never thought a hot tub would be a good thing after such a long hot ride. But the motel's hot tub was a moment of great delight.

Look carefully at the Old Route 66. Every once in awhile we see an even older segment of the highway nearby.

Riding Route 66 Day 1 September 14 2012

Route 66 Day 1

This is The first day of our four-day ride mostly a long old Route 66 across Central Arizona.

Myself and my two sons, James and Bryan, arrived in Prescott last night after a 38 hour, 3,440 km (2,138 mi) non-stop car ride from Ontario, Canada. The experience of that car ride could be an entire blog entry in and of itself. It was an adventure. But I don't think any of us would choose it as the preferred method of getting to Arizona. None of us could figure out how to sleep in either the passenger seat or back seat of the Honda Civic. It was one of those "character building" trips.

It is now Friday, September 14, 9:40 in the morning and all five riders, Mark, Ben, James, Bryan, and myself are milling around brother Mark's garage preparing our bikes.

We have all loaded up our bikes with equipment and water bottles. We have oiled our chains and put on our helmets and we are ready to roll.

Leaving Mark's driveway we began to weave our way through the city of Prescott.

Within the first five minutes of riding through the residential and commercial streets and climbing the many short but steep hills that make up the town of Prescott, I found my heart rate at 140.

I think this is largely because of the high-altitude. Prescott is at 5300 feet above sea level. I also think part of the problem is that I am just exhausted from the 38 hour car ride that brought me here.

In about 20 minutes we find ourselves on the outskirts of Prescott. We are pedaling north on highway 89 towards the town of Ashfork located next to Interstate 40.

Our road takes us through the moon-ish looking limestone formations known as The Dells.

About 19.5 miles or 31.6 km north on highway 89 we come to the community of Chino Valley. We eat lunch at Taco Bell.

Chino Valley isn't a huge and prestigious civic center these days. But at one time it was the Territorial Captial of the Territory of Arizona. 

Back on the road we continue heading north and soon come to the small community of Paulden. This is about 7.9 miles or 12.8 km north of Chino Valley.

By this time the sons are far ahead of us and Mark and I are bringing up the rear. I think Mark is just being thoughtful and sticking with me because I am very slow today. Maybe he thinks I could get sick or something. I really don't feel very good today.

A unique feature of today's ride is the presence of large grasshoppers or locusts all along the road. These large insects are about 2 1/2 inches long.

We run over many of them (accidentally on my part; I'm not so sure about the other riders) with our bikes. Some of them stick to our spandex pants in a weird sort of Velcro way. This experience reminded me of the terrorizing times I had riding on the farm tractor with my grandfather as the Texas grasshoppers jumped all over me. Fortunately, that childhood experience desensitized and prepared me for today's ride :-)

Many of the insects are hit by the cars zooming by us. The injured bugs on the ground are then cannibalized by the living bugs. It's all a very gross to witness.

Fortunately this is the only day we see these bugs in these volumes. But there are thousands of them. Kind of wanted me to be biblical and eat a few.

At the community of Paulden, Mark and I stop for ice cream sandwiches for some energy at the one and only food establishment in the community, as well as to cool down a bit. Today is very warm. But not overwhelmingly hot like Arizona tends to be.

Not only is the temp "reasonable," but the desert is relatively green. This area has experienced significant rain over the past few weeks and we enjoying the benefits of it. We even sight the rarity of pools of standing water. Big puddles.

We are now about 26.1 miles or 42.3 km from Ashfork.

What we find is a very straight road on the very gradual and consistent incline. This is starting to take a toll on some of us.

At some point Mark increases his speed so as to maintain a good climbing pace.

I am lingering behind, going slow and steady. But mostly slow. I accept my duty as last in line, making sure no man gets left behind :-) I know I will eventually get Ash Fork. And I am on vacation so why should I really hurry? Truth is, I'm just not feeling so great and not really "on top of my game."

15 km from Ashfork I see you a rider heading towards me. It is my son James who's coming back to either check on me make sure I'm alive and okay, or maybe he just wanted some more exercise.

But he sticks with me and around 5:30 in the evening we reach Ash Fork.

I have been sitting in the bike seat for six hours. Total time for today's trip is 7 hours and 40 minutes.

We are staying at the Copper State Motel . This motel certainly shows it's age. Obviously remodeled several times, but it still holds the spirit of a motel that housed weary Route 66 travelers back in the 1930s.

Mark and I get to share one room. All the sons share another room.

After everybody's had a shower and brief time to rest we head out to eat of the only food establishment in Ashfork.

We have a great supper together just enjoying each other's company. I really feel like I'm on vacation at this point.

We head back to our rooms after supper because there's really not a whole lot more to do in this town and we are generally tired.

Even though this community is located right off of the interstate, interstate has created away for the world to just pass it by. Over the next four days I will form a perspective about these towns on Route 66 and how history and the interstate highway system has impacted them. Ash Fork is an example of how just moving the follow of traffic a few hundred yards away from the town's Main Street changed everything. More thoughts of the Route and the towns later.

We stopped at the general store and purchased our Gatorade Power Aid for tomorrow's ride. After 86.9 km (53.8 mi) with an average speed (My speed anyway) of 14.5 kph (9 mph), we all hit the sack looking forward to a good rest. Excited that tomorrow we will actually be writing on the original Route 66.

Bro Mark appreciating the shade of the tree and his ice cream sandwich outside of the general store in the small community of Paulden, located between Chino Valley and Ash Fork.

Just on the outskirts of Paulden, we had a brief break from the traffic of Highway 89. This is Old Highway 89, a remnant of the original road before more modern "improvements." This section of road was so calm we enjoyed riding side by side and had some good discussions doing our best to solve the world's problems. 

Here we are fresh and clean and energetic on the street in front of Mark's home. From left to right you see me (Blog Hog), James (Scary Peccary), Bryan (Little Hog), Mark (Boss Hog), and Ben (Jack Rabbit). We are -- and remember  this name -- The Wild Javelinas (And we have official gang/club T Shirts to prove it!)

 

Classic Arizona. But it should be pointed out that we rode through at least three distinct ecosystems in one day. You notice this by the vegetation in these pictures -- all taken on the same day.

The Dells Granite Formations on the road just on the north edge of Prescott. Notice the nice wide shoulder we had to ride on. Very much appreciated by all cyclists.

A very old building in Chino Valley. This will be the first of many old buildings (and old cars) I photograph. I figure that someday all we might have of this history are pictures.

Bro Mark cooling off in our Ash Fork motel room. Notice the neat mural on the wall.

Any time and any place you ride in Arizona you are struck by the beautiful vastness of this land. And, of course, you take a picture of it only to be disappointed that pixels can't capture the reality your eyes take in.

For a long time and my kilometers this is what we saw. This is considered "lushness" in Arizona's desert.

They fall to mention on the sign that our refrigerator door had no handle and was held shut by duct tape. But you know what? It worked and kept our Gatorade cold.

Dinner Time

This is the first Route 66 sign we see. And now, from Ash Fork on, we are getting our kicks, or at least getting kicked, on or by Route 66

Route 66 Ride Day 1- The Ride Before Us

In just a couple of hours we (Myself, my sons James and Bryan, Mark, and his son, Ben) pedal out of brother Mark's Prescott, Arizona driveway heading north.

Our objective is to pedal 91.2 km (53.6 mi) north where at the town of Ash Fork, Arizona, we will find Route 66 -- "America's Main Street" and "The Mother Road" and"The Road of Tears and Hope" as it has historically been called.

In the 1930's, thousands of grieving, displaced, and crushed Americans, devastated by the Great Depression, loaded what few earthly possessions they had left on either their backs or cars and headed west from Chicago and all points along the way on this road of desperation seeking employment and survival somewhere in the the direction of the setting sun.

Interestingly, Route 66 actually had part of its beginning right here in Arizona.

In the mid-1800's, a certain Lt. Beale was sent to this territory with two orders.

First he was to create some
kind of trail or road that could be used by the American army to transport men and supplies to the west coast. A war was brewing with Mexico and these kind of logistics had to be considered.

The second part of Beale's orders involved experimenting with the use of camels as a military alternative to horses. A logical idea given the super harsh desert environment of the American Southwest.

Beale did indeed create such a trail/road across the desert. The railroads would follow his trail. Later a real road would evolve and become part of Route 66.

As for the camels, they apparently didn't work out too well. But isn't it intriguing to visualize what would have happened to American culture and folklore if they had?

Can you see the Lone Ranger and his might camel racing to the rescue?

Roy Rogers and Dale Evans side by side on their camels?

And Gene Autry singing "Back in the Saddle Again" mounted on his camel?

And there goes Jessie James pursuing the train with the bank payroll -- on his camel?

And how's this for revisionist history: the Native Americans repelled the White Men seeking to steal their lands and North America became "The United Nations and Tribes of North America."

So it is off to seek this small but powerful American treasure.

On our way to Ash Fork today we will pass through the communities of Chino Valley (Once territorial capital of AZ) and Paulden.

On Tuesday morning, we will begin to get our kicks on Route 66.

Painting below is an artist's rendering of Lt Beale and his camel army.

Official Intro for Arizona Route 66 Ride

This is it folks!

My official introduction of the big ride which starts this coming Friday.

If you track with me watching the map below, you'll get the general idea of the trip.

Start at the tip of the lower right hand pen. (Those Truckers reading this will appreciate the symbolic nature of traveling "pin to pin" :-)

The tip of that lower right hand pen is on Prescott, Arizona. Bro Mark lives there. We pedal down and out his driveway Friday morning, September 14.

And we pedal all day. 91.2 km (53.6 mi) to be precise. We spend the first night in Ash Fork, Arizona. (The second pen counter-clockwise from previous pen.)

By the way, joining brother Mark and I will be Mark's son, Ben, and two of my sons, James and Bryan. For the purposes of this trip we have declared ourselves as a gang or club to be known as "The Wild Javelinas." (Javelinas are these pig like creatures with lots of character and attitude that roam around Arizona.)

We all have matching shirts with our "club" names on them. Bro Mark is "Boss Hog." I am "Blog Hog." James is "Scary Peccary." Ben is "Jack Rabbit" (For some reason he isn't a hog. Go figure.) Bryan is "Little Hog." How cool is that?

(James and Bry and I will be driving to Arizona from Ontario, Canada, leaving Tuesday, September 11. That will be an entirely unique experience of its own!)

Waking up on Saturday morning in Ash Fork, we now pick up the trail of old Route 66, the "Main Street" America. The iconic Grapes of Wrath highway of the Depression Years. Most of the highway has been either abandoned, or replaced by the US of A's modern Interstate Highway System. But this stretch we pedal west across central Arizona is one of the oldest and longest remaining segments of the legendary road.

After pedaling 100.6 km (62.1 mi) we reach our second day destination of Peach Springs, AZ, more recently made famous in the Pixar animated hit movie, "Cars," as the town of Radiator Springs. (Third pen counter-clockwise.)

Day 3 finds us riding 83.9 km (51.8 mi) from Peach Springs to Kingman, AZ (whose name is in the famous song about getting kicks on Route 66). Fourth counter-clockwise pen.

Our fourth and final day of 83.6 km (53.3 mi) takes us through the historically rich towns of Oatman, Golden Shores and Topock. Bro Mark mentioned recently that we are going to ride over the bridge over the Colorado River and set foot on California soil just to say we did so.

That's our trip of 357.7 km (220.8 mi).

When we arrive at the River on Monday afternoon or evening, Mark's wife, Carolyn, and my son, Luke, will find us and transport us a mere 4 hours drive back to Prescott.

Here is the first official trip sheet provided by Bro Mark a month or so ago:

* * * * * * * * *

DAY 1: 501 Joseph Street, Prescott, AZ to Copperstate Motel, Ash Fork, AZ

ROUTE: White Spar Rd/Montezuma/Whipple to Willow Creek Road to Hwy 89N

KNOWN STOPS: McDonald's in Chino Valley (19.5 mi/31.6km) and the only grocery

store in Paulden (7.9 mi/12.8 km), then to Ash Fork (26.1 mi/42.3 im).

TOTAL Day 1: 53.6 mi/91.2 km

LODGING: Copperstate Motel, Ash Fork, AZ

DAY 2: Copperstate Motel, Ash Fork, AZ to Hualupai Lodge, Peach Springs (AKA Radiator Springs), AZ

ROUTE: Interstate 40 to Crockton Rd/U.S. Rt. 66 West

KNOWN STOPS: Seligman (24.3 mi/39.4 km), Grand Canyon Caverns (11.9 mi/

19.3km), then to Peach Springs (24.9 mi/40.3 km),

TOTAL Day 2: 62.1 mi/100.6 km

LODGING: Hualupai Lodge, Peach Springs, AZ

DAY 3: Hualupai Lodge, Peach Springs, AZ to Arizona Inn, Kingman, AZ

ROUTE: U.S. Route 66 West

Stops: Hackberry General Store (22.7 mi/36.8 km), Taco Bell-Kingman (24.3 mi/

39.4 km) to Arizona Inn (4.8 mi/7.8km)

TOTAL Day 3: 51.8 miles/83.9 km

LODGING: Arizona Inn, Kingman, AZ

DAY 4: Arizona Inn, Kingman, AZ to Topock, AZ

ROUTE: U.S. Route 66 West/Oatman Rd and Oatman/Topock Highway

KNOWN STOPS: Oatman (28.2 mi/45.7 km), Golden Shores-Hooch's River Grill

(20.0 mi/ 32.4km) to I-40 (5.1 mi/8.3 km)

TOTAL Day 4: 53.3 mi/86.3 km

LODGING: 501 Joseph Street, Prescott, AZ

TOTAL DISTANCE: 220.8 miles/357.7 km

* * * * * *

I hope to post and provide photos on our "Shelley Brothers Cycling Adventures" Facebook page and this blog each day as time, technology, and energy allows.

Hope you'll come along for the ride and join us as we get our kicks on Route 66!

Confessions of A Foolish Biker

As I am about to disembark on my next big biking adventure, I want to post two blogs.

This is the first one.

A confession of a careless cyclist.

No. I didn't hit something while I was texting behind the handle bars.

It was, well, different. This is kind of embarrassing.

Here's the backstory.

Since the middle of May I have been enjoying some serious, exciting training and conditioning.

In anticipation of our trek (which starts next Friday!!!) on Old Route 66 west across central Arizona, I have been delighting in a disciplined conditioning program. I have ridden about 1,800 km (about 1,100 miles) to get and keep my legs, lungs, heart, and butt in shape.

All was going well until about August 15 when I went on a simple training ride of about 12 km (7.5 mi). Should have been a non-event. But when I got home I felt like I had rode over 100 km (62 mi). Totally exhausted. But even worse. Within an hour of getting home and taking my shower I was in bed with a blaring headache and severe chills. Slept for 12 hours.

I thought this was weird. But really, I thought, I was just a bug or something I had caught. (A metaphorical bug. Not the kind I always swallow when I ride because I am a mouth breather.) But I did think it strange that I felt fine before the ride.

Did a couple of easy short rides during the next 6 days.

Then on August 25 I went on an almost 3 hour, 33.5 km (20.7 mi) easy pace ride. And when I got home, you guessed it; I had the same physical "symptoms" as the previous weekend.

So I did a lot of googling and asked Brother Mark who is wise in all things bicycle. Based on these consultations, here what I believed happened.

While doing all this great training, I foolishly neglected the care and feeding of my body. I wasn't drinking the important after-ride protein drink essential to muscle repair and strengthening. And I wasn't eating enough high quality carbs to fuel my exercise schedule. As a result, I dangerously depleted my glycogen reserves (Glycogen is the food energy in your blood and tissues which your body utilizes for power when exercising). So I had weak muscles and fumes in my energy tank.

And my body essentially said, "Forget this. I don't perform if you don't provide."

The cure? Here's what I hope will help: Since a 4.3 km (2.6 mi) ride on August 31 (I was puttering along with my daughter's little white dog, Snicket, at 8.5 kph / 5.27 mph -- you probably walk that fast), I have not been on a bike. I have eaten a lot of healthy food. I have drank a lot of protein shakes. I have rested and I have gained about 8 lbs (I kind of miss my almost skinny look. But I will have it back on the third day of our big ride).

I hope I will be rested, and strong, and glycogen replenished when we pedal down Brother's Mark Prescott, Arizona driveway on the morning of September 14 and head north to Ash Fork where we join Route 66.

The lesson learned: Pay as much attention to fueling your body as you do the number of kilometers (miles) you pedal.