Fat boy and I again had breakfast at Coco's and ordered cold sandwiches to go for our lunch on the road. We got to Amboy, our starting point, around 9 am. We took a few pictures with the Amboy Craterbehind us and one with both of us leaning on the town's police car. Before mounting my trusty two wheeler, Fat boy say's " Bro, if you need a break I'll ride for you a while. I could use the exercise". In response to him I nod, and pedaled away.
The road is wet from last night’s rain and the sky is filled with white, light and dark gray clouds bundled together creating a ceiling of cotton balls. In the distance there are dark vertical patches where the rain is falling sporadically with the sun's rays shining down exposing green and yellow patches of the life. They're moving away from my direction (I ask mom and dad to keep me dry). It's cool but my body is warming up as I am putting distance between me Amboy. There are small ghost settlements with mail boxes erected along the side of the route, not many but they do indicate there are people living out here. I pass a billboard sign with humongous lettering (CHAMBLESS). This settlement was the Desert Training Center for over two million servicemen under the great General George Patton during World War II. He chose the Mojave Desert because the environment was so similar to the African landscape, which lay the groundwork for a successful war campaign in Africa. I'm exhilarated with life and throw my arms out to embrace the peacefulness and freedom yet a profound connection to everything around me.
Fat boy is in the truck behind me. Does he understand what I'm doing? I decide to stop at the top of the grade I've been climbing for twelve miles. I pull over to the left where what appeared to be a a gas station constructed of concrete. The remaining walls have been graffitied over with various colors (Abstract art in the desert). I ask Fat boy if he is ready to ride. He jumps out of the truck and pulls out his riding gear and says "Hell Yeah!" In his excitement he strips down bare not giving the passing cars a second thought. I adjust the bike seat so he can reach the pedals. He puts my shoes on and off he goes. Before riding off he says "I knew if I asked you enough you would let me ride. I had to do more than drive". What he didn't know was this exhiliration was intended for everyone to experience, and he being included was important for me. I can see he is happy and his gesture in throwing his arms out with thumbs up tells me he does understand this special moment and feels the life around him. He rides twenty eight miles hitting the tail end of a rain/hail storm, passing Essex and finally stopping at NAJAS gas/fast food station in Fenner. There’s nothing else out here. As I said earlier the road was being shared by motorcyclist and many of them have also stopped here. I felt like a neon light bulb in my green florescent riding shirt walking among the bikers dressed from head to toe in their leathers standing next to their pride and joy on wheels. In fun I offered to trade bikes with a couple of them, but only got " I couldn’t ride a mile. You got b----s to ride that far". I gotta say the bikes were pretty, and for a moment the idea in riding the rest of the way would be easier. But the joy quickly resurfaced, and realized my decision to ride is a good one.
Fat boy and I ate our sandwiches and watched them come and go. After refueling ourselves and a thirty minute rest we leave getting back on to the Mother Road. Fatboy is satisfied with his part on the bike so I take over for the rest of the journey. The peaks and valleys go on for miles in the desert and fortunately for me It’s been a great rainy season. I’ve never seen so many colorful flowers and I really didn’t think flowers grew in the desert.
We reach the summit of Goffs. Again mail boxes on the side of the road and an old run down building that might have been a restaurant with bar. Further up a loading facility near the railroad crossing indicating a life and purpose in its former time. Most of ride to Needles is downhill, but a headwind required me to work to get any benefit from the downgrade. I also pass a tailwind of a storm lasting maybe five/ten minutes strengthening the smell of the desert. When trucks pass by, you can see the strong push of wind actually taking form from the falling rain. I ride as close as possible to the edge of the road, but still feel the pull as they swerve to give me room on the shoulder.
We’ve ridden parallel to the Santa Fee railroad tracks until we get on to Highway 40 where I ride the last seven miles before getting off at River Rd offramp. We arrive into Needles at 4:45pm
Needles is the oldest living community on the Colorado River. The Mojave Indians were living here before the Europeans set foot on the valley. Today the descendants are called the Fort Mojave Indian Tribe. (They’re no kin to the Navajo). Everyone was tattooed according to Mojave legend. The Mojave Indians were fond of personal appearance. A design is first drawn with charcoal, then the skin is pricked close together along the drawn lines until the blood flows. Willow charcoal is rubbed into the wounds leaving the tattoo. Women and children were part of this tradition because it was believed when they died they would be refused entrance to the ‘land of the dead’ and instead had to go down a 'rat-hole’. There’s much more history to this tribe and how they contributed to next two towns on the Route which I will share later.
Needles was given its birth name "The Needles" because of the sharp peaks at the southern end of the valley. Needles became the center for the railway providing fuel, food, soft drinks and overnight accommodations at the Harvey House. Harvey House and the original station burned down in 1906. It was replaced with a concrete buildig serving as the Harvey House and railway station. It's new name was El Graces. It is now a historic site waiting to be restored. The town still has many abandoned homes and businesses. Needles is located between two popular vacation spots, Laughlin with its gambling and riverfronts and Bullhead City with its waterway activities and many other things I am sure I am not familiar with. In any case, another day has passed with some very interesting and long term memories. To think this is just the beginning.
Tomorrow Needles to Kingman.
Til then take care, love you all.
No comments:
Post a Comment