On the border from Tecate to Mexicali, tall steel girders rise up from the ground. Sometimes they are reminiscent of photos of the Chinese wall that winds its way over the hills, then nasty images from German memorials come to mind. A harsh message to the hopeful people we met in the south. Perhaps a sign of fear, of rejection, but in any case a tangible obstacle and a visible sign of inequality in this world. While traffickers exploit the situation on one side, there is a shortage of millions of workers on the other… absurd and difficult, like the situation back home in the Mediterranean. It makes us contemplate how effortlessly we are allowed to cross this border - where others are denied, and obviously tons and tons of goods, riches of the poorer countries find unhindered entrance.
From the hilly border area, not before spending a night at Desert View Tower - thanks Ben for the magical place! - we soon drive down to the plains. Flat as a pancake. Fields green with alfalfa, animal fodder cultivation in a wide band to the left and right of the Colorado River, which is beeing depleted by irrigation. A barren stone landscape all around. And yet we find a corner with a nice bathing spot by the river. A dusty and windy affair, and a good place for a first day’s rest in the carefree certainty that we are officially allowed to pitch our tent here on ‘public land’. A real luxury.
After a relaxing drive through dune landscapes full of adult toys (sand buggies), past thermal springs and through the camper paradise of Quartzsite, half a day of freeway driving is on the agenda today. What sounds bad at first is actually still okay. Yes, it is noisy and the cars speed past a little faster than on the country road. But everyone, without exception, overtakes with enough distance, and the drive on a 2.5 m wide strip of highway is - apart from on and off-ramps - actually quite relaxed. Nevertheless, we are glad when we can turn off onto more leisurely roads into the mountains again.
And lo and behold, this morning we are actually greeted by a fine white splendor. The inland climate and 2000m difference in altitude to the sea make themselves felt, and now there is winter for us after all. Wherever the sun shines, we are surrounded by red mountains, horizontally banded and with a gray cap on top. These days we ride several Alpine crossings in a row, we sleep in long johns at altitude and cycle through the valleys in short sleeves. From Prescott onwards, we enjoy the hospitality of other cycling enthusiasts. Karen spontaneously takes us in and saves us from the rain. Peter and Geni - still surprisingly energetic in their old age - spoil us rotten. We marvel at impressive handicrafts made from calabashes and also meet a well-traveled cyclist from Vancouver - see you soon, Vanessa! At Deb and Glenn’s, a treasure trove of travel experiences, pictures and memories of the Sierra Cascades and Route 66 awaits us, which we soon want to take under our bikes. Here in Sedona, we are greeted in a house full of souvenirs from all over the world and the most beautiful surroundings to start hiking right from the front door.
Already we are in Flagstaff, enjoying some recovery time with Moni and Yves, Rita’s friends from her first US adventure. Day trips to national monuments and parks in the area are on the agenda, a flood of parcels are ready for a general overhaul of our trusty travel companion - and not forgetting the most delicious Christmas present from home, home-baked and of course almost fresh from the oven! Mending seams, scrubbing laundry, playing with Zorro the dog and our hosts, going on excursions and changing plans await…
Arizona is not short of breathtaking landscapes. At the same time, we get to know a region full of history and culture: the more recent history of land theft, injustice and the expulsion of the local Native Nations - mostly in the interests of private ranchers, but sometimes even to establish and protect the national parks we now cherish. The older, unwritten history of sophisticated survival strategies in an inhospitable environment, of wandering and the mandate to care for nature. And the millions of years old history of petrified trees, fossils and colorful sediments, deposited when this land still lay on Pangaea’s coast.
Our first attempt to reach the Grand Canyon is not destined to work out. After a stormy headwind at the beginning and a broken gear cable, we manage to put together a nice day’s riding. We get snowed in during the night, but in the morning the road is reasonably passable again… if it wasn’t for a trailer rocking violently (frozen shock absorber rubber), engine misfires (is it due to the slightly different gear ratio?) and, to top it all off, a jerky, crunching bottom bracket. But you have to be lucky: on the other side of the road, Hillary stops for a smoke break and helpfully asks if everything is ok. We’re not sure yet, but as she happens to be driving an empty van (no other rental car was available), we gratefully accept her offer to take us back to Flagstaff. There will probably never be another opportunity like this! The decision turns out to be spot on. In the bike store they can change the bearings straight away (you can’t call the old one a ‘ball’ bearing any more), and Moni and Yves are having brunch in the restaurant next door. A joyful, unexpectedly early reunion, another hot shower for us to enjoy and on Monday we start the second attempt in sunshine and an icy headwind.
So far everything has gone smoothly, we knock on wood and enjoy the unique view of the Colorado River gorge, the Grand Canyon.
