Trust in each other, in others, and in God

The view from the stoker seat.

Eric

From the back of the bike there are several limitations, limited vision, no ability to steer and the curse of always being downwind. Our decision to take the road less travelled from eastern to western Baja has heightened my awareness of the level of trust Christie has in venturing on this road.

After several discussions with locals and expatriates while on the good road, the most common advice was go back 20 miles from San Felipe and take the road across the mountains to Ensenada. As we pushed further people said we could make it and it would be ¨A Hell of an adventure¨. We took the latter advice and ventured onto the road that has the dubious distinction as being the worst in the Baja. Our wide, lightly travelled paved road with a shoulder quickly turned into steep grades with loose sand and rocks. Our next four days were filled with hills, rocks, sand and washboard all accomplished at an average speed of 4.5 mph.

One step at a time, up from the sea of Cortez.

After being relatively stable and having good control for the first 2,500 miles of the trip, our rocky road brought about our first falls (5). Each fall was a slow motion can´t catch the bike and hold it up experience with the same result, lying on our sides. Each was an opportunity to test Christie´s trust in me as she choose to climb back on and re enter the the perilous world of the stoker seat.

Christie

Ahhh yes....Trust! It is the word of the day. Eric is doing an incredible job in finessing ´ol Jojo through the terrain and trucks. It takes significant concentration and awareness in the midst of fatigue and heat. As we walked down the street to reload on groceries, he noticed himself looking in his rear view mirror, despite him not wearing his helmet! We are reading the book The Love Dare by Kendrick, in Chapter 14, they write about the ¨timeless quality, class and dignity¨of the work honor. It goes on to say that to honor someone means to give them respect, talk to them with clean language, be courteous, listen to their words and give those words significance, and accommodate their needs. Honor acknowledges the value of someone, it´s a noble word and is true in marriage, within families, friendships, and the stranger we meet on the street. The word that forms the basis of honor is ¨holy¨, not meaning perfect, but special, unique, sacred, that no one else rivals in our heart. Eric and I now smile when we think of each other as holy. It has been a significant chapter for us, especially as we need to work as a team, trust in each other, and forgive the shortcomings.

When you don´t know where you will sleep or get your next drink of water, you end up relying on and trusting in the people around you A LOT! This is a humbling experience and an absolute opportunity to realize the good in humanity. Where are we going to tent....well how about next to the restaurant were Mary, the cook, offered when there was no place else in town....or how about at the beach with Mike and Trevor who flew in on their 4 seater airplane from California...or how about on Coco´s flat bed truck. Where are we going to get our next drink and food to eat....well how about from the ONLY 3 cars we passed in 2 days, ALL of who gave us some water they had with them....or how about the tortillas the Martin family, on a road trip from San Diego, shared with us. People are GOOD and it is an honor to grow from their thoughtfulness, kindness, and generosity. When we woke up this morning, NEVER did we think that an airplane would carry Mike and Trevor into our lives. An afternoon in their fishing boat in the sea of Cortez, telling tails of swimming with whale sharks, mountain biking with mountain lions in California, and Oh Yeah...eating Cliff bars.....¨Bad roads, Good people¨as Mike (Rt) says, couldn´t be more true. Coco, a double amputee from poor circulation issues, is full of determination and has a great heart. His place (and a lot of the road we took) is highlighted in the film Dust to Glory about the Baja 1000 race. The Martin and Gabby family from San Diego at Coco´s. What fun! A place to camp at Mary´s restaurant. We had good laughs when we told her we had traded our house and car for this ¨beautiful house and bike.¨Loco!

Eric

In then end, we continue to grow in our faith in and reliance on our Creator God. We find ourselves praying that we will have a place to stay, find the necessities of life, be safe and to know the people we meet (conocer is the Spanish word ¨to know¨and also is used when you meet people). When we look back at the previous day we are in awe of how we have been provided for and blessed by our meetings. Sometimes it requires taking initiative, like the night we stayed on the porch of a boarded up cottage, but always it´s a blessing.

Our sweet audience watched as Eric put some air in the tires.

The other side of the border

Figuring out the Baja roads.

Pit stop. The open road and desert.

El Campo Mayor along the Colorado river.

The trip has now been turned on its head once again. We have added language, culture and questionable road conditions as challenges to work through.

Our initial fears in crossing the border have been largely put to rest. We slipped across the border without getting off of our bike as the border guards stared and smiled. Sunday morning in Mexicali was quiet with minimal traffic which allowed the street vendors and paper salespeople to have quick discussions with us. With our elementary espanol, the furthest we got was "We're going to Argentina." With the responses mostly being "To Argentina?!" Mostly interested, curious and filled with excitement about something out of the ordinary (a tandem) rolling through their area.

The horror stories of traffic have been hugely overstated. To this point we have had a better response from truckers and cars than we had through our last several states in the US. Trucks have slowed nearly to our pace allowing plenty of room for passing. Roads thus far have been excellent, but we expect that to change soon. Over the next 3-4 days we've heard sand, rocks, gravel, mountains, but believe it will be doable with some possible pushing.

Jesus and Karen

People have been incredibly gracious to us. It's been so much fun as people pass us with heads out their windows, thumbs in the air, clapping. A field of workers noticed us and sent a "tandem bikers over there" message all the way down the field and whistled, arms in the air. My arms actually had chills (although it was probably 100 degrees)--it was a moment of relief and comfort after feelings of nervousness. People have been giving us water when we were just asking where we could buy it. Most are very patient with our Spanish and want to help us learn. We've also met an American gentleman who married a delightful woman who's family lives in Mazatlan. They offered us their place to crash for a couple days when we get there! We ate at our first roadside food stall - Enchiladas and fish tacos that were made on the grill as we looked on. Yummy.

Baja sunrise outside the tent on Sea of Cortez.

Peace Corps friend, Susy, and her husband Dan in San Diego.

More Extreme

In UT, just before the Arizona descent on a gravel road cut-across.

Eric (with Christie's 2 cents): Our turn to the southwest from northern Utah is removing us further from what is comfortable and was "normal" six weeks ago. In doing so, our senses are more awake, our hearts more open, and our arms stretched wider. We've worked our way through smaller ag and ranching towns into areas driven by tourism, thus changing our human interactions and conversations. We learned we can quickly slip into the "hurry-up" routine (whether we are wandering in a casino, checking off our grocery list, or at the beach, the opportunity to take even 1-2 minutes with somebody is always present). Our bodies are continuing to adapt, and are being challenged by the 110 deg-F heat of the desert....at least it's a dry heat (ha)!

Desert riding in NV- we're taking our chances.

In rolling across Utah, we were able to bike through some amazing country. The extremes of river valleys and reservoirs to jagged mountains and beautiful arches kept us anxious to see what was around the next corner. We took time off around Labor Day to take what my sister termed "a vacation from your vacation", to rest and explore the national parks of southwestern Utah with Christie's parents. The slot canyon hiking near Escalante was definitely the highlight. We have inside information from a Deputy in Huntington to thank for that tip.

Bryce Canyon with the Streckers. Slot Canyon hiking. Yeah...I'm not going up there.

Following our downtime, we crossed another 10,000 ft+ peak and then began our 15 mile descent from UT to AZ into the heat and torture of the desert. While we embrace each descent we get, this descent was mixed with a bit of uncertainty. With each foot drop we were more nervous. The inner lining of our noses began to tingle with each inhale, like we were sitting in a sauna (with no door to escape). The challenge of our next few days was laid out. We were out of the 50 deg nights and 80 or 90 deg days. Welcome lows of 80 and highs in the 110's. "Do as the desert tortoise does," as one information center gentleman suggested, "bury yourself for 90% of your days." We were also reminded that "this is the same sun you have in MN...." (not a very helpful statement, but...) yes, we CAN get through this.

So the gauntlet was laid out. Could we conquer the desert as Mr. Powell did or maybe make it bearable as Willis Haviland Carrier made possible by developing AC? Our challenge was not to fight, or overpower nature (practically impossible tasks with our two-wheeled beast), but to dance. We are attempting to embrace the early morning rides, 4 am means less traffic and romantic sunrises - thought the profuse sweating does diminish the mood slightly. We've stumbled here and there, running out of water a few miles before the next station, but aren't ashamed to take advantage of the kind works of others, soak in the strategically placed reservoir, or $20/ night casino hotel with $.99 breakfast ending a 3 am. We embrace the thinking behind the beloved siesta.

Soaking in the water on a clay shelf of Lake Meed (for 6 straight hours-we were WRINKLY!) JoJo's first appearance in a casino-we were quite the show!

Even our entertainment choices are adjusting. We are becoming slightly obsessed with ditch trash. As an aside, I'm confident a resourceful person could furnish a house, small workshop, and wardrobe on a 5 mile stretch of a NV highway. In addition to our running totals of flat tires - 6 and money found total $1.59, we are adding pee-bottles. At first hearing this, it may seem like a simple and boring item to count, but remember a bottle cannot be counted until verified. For example, a 1/4 full Mr. Pibb bottle left in the sun a little too long could be misinterpreted so we immediately reject those. The same can be said for any amber colored glass bottle. Whether or not to count often leads to lively discussions between Christie and I, but in the end I defer to her years of schooling and experience as a nurse and yield to her call. Current count is at 21 from the UT border.

So we are holding up well. Our bodies continue to feel strong, Vitamin I (Ibuprofen) use is down to maybe a pill or two/ person/ week (before it was 4/person/day). We will cross the border with Mexico in a week and are excited to throw another set of challenges into the mix.

Christie's Uncle Rich from Phoenix came for a visit in Lake Havasu.

Thank you all for your continued support and encouragement. It's fun to have you along for the ride.