Day 12

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By David Freeze

The last big climb


  I left Silver City and a nice room at the Cooper Canyon Motel early this morning, focused on getting over Emory Pass, the highest point on this ride. I was loaded with supplies because the towns ahead looked questionable.


    All the riding was challenging, up and down, right from the start. After leaving US 180, I turned uphill on 152. Shortly afterward, I met the most interesting person on the ride so far. Sam Ortega stopped because he thought I needed a ride right before Hanover. We talked about several things and really hit it off. Sam was worried about me and ending up giving me ice water, a snack, gloves and a rag. I even expected I might see him later.


  The next town was missing when I passéd San Lorenzo. So far none of the towns had supplies, but I had carried enough for the big climb ahead. The terrain kept getting steeper, resembling some of the long climbs I had experienced out west in the bigger mountains.


    I met about 30 cows coming down the road that I was going up. They were herded by a truck following them. Evidently cows are kept in the area because of many cattle grates in the road.


    Finally, at about 5:30pm, I topped the mountain at 8,228 feet, grabbed a few photos and started down 8 steep miles headed for the Black Range Lodge in Kingston. A couple miles down, I hit one of the most memorable thunderstorms I’ve ever experienced. Heavy, blowing rain, with occasional lightning and hail. My fingers were so cold that I could barely grip the break levers and the rain made the brakes struggle to slow the bike. Then the road started flooding.


    Struggling mightily, I found the road for the lodge and pedaled through more flooding. Catherine, one of the owners, told me that they had not received such heavy rain in months. I’m warm, happy, and ready to sleep after just 48 super challenging miles.


    I did find out that the huge man made mountains I had seen the last few days are the leftovers of copper mining. I visited the observation area for the Santa Rita Mine, one of the oldest and largest in the world.


    Tomorrow, most of the riding will be downhill and I am ready for that. Texas is just a couple days away! Join me tomorrow!

Lay Down With Me

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By Ann Farabee

Lay down with me

This is a difficult column to write. Not easy, but applicable to our lives, for sure. Grab a tissue and hang with me. (Yes, I know the title is grammatically incorrect, but it will be okay.)

Several years ago, my brother went through two weeks of suffering as he was in the valley of the shadow of death and then went on to be with the Lord.

The prognosis was given within hours of taking him to the emergency room, as the doctor returned to us and said, “It’s not good news, Mr. Miles.”

My younger brother looked right to me – and needed for me to step into action. I did the best I could. I worked non-stop making sure everything – and I mean everything – was taken care of. I was going to be there for him during this difficult time. He would not – and I mean would NOT – feel alone as he faced his final weeks on Earth.

The days began to pass. His words became fewer – sometimes there were none – his eyes would follow me around the room as I helped him in every way that came to mind, like conferring with doctors and hospital staff or holding his cup and straw for him as he seemed so grateful to be able to have a sip of water. I made sure his physical environment was just right – blinds adjusted, tray area neat, lights on or off, and door open or shut. Anything that I thought would help.

On one of his final days, as I straightened the sheets and fluffed the pillow on his bed, I heard him whisper – almost inaudible at first and very labored – but I leaned in close and figured it out one word at a time. Lay…down…with…me.

Tears filled my eyes. I quickly released the side rail on the bed that had separated us, and climbed in beside him. He edged slightly closer to me, and I felt his body relax as I held one of his hands and wrapped my other arm across his chest. It seemed that time left me at that point – not sure how long we stayed in that position – but I wish I had stayed even longer.

Reality crashed down. I had been doing important things for him – very important things – but in that moment, “Lay down with me,” took precedence over every single fiber of my existence. I became not just a helper or an advocate for his needs, but I was a participant in what he was experiencing, creating one of my most powerful and priceless memories ever.

Lay down with me. The incorrect grammar? Yes, the correct version would be to say, “Lie down with me.” But a meaning of ‘lay down’ is ‘to put something down.’ So, what may have been imperfect grammar on that day ended up being a perfect message from God:

We sometimes need to ‘lay down’ some things – put some things down, even though they may be important and need to be done. Because most of the time, they are not more important than the “with-me’s” in our lives.

Why share this story now? A few days ago, my grandsons were once again ready to play Monopoly. Their conversation: The 10 year old – Maybe Mama GG could play. The 13 year old – No, she always has other things to do.

My thoughts as I heard them from the kitchen: Is that how they think of me? I always have other ‘things’ to do? Really? Don’t they realize how busy I am? These ‘things’ must be done!

Then, a still small voice – from God and my brother in heaven – reminded my heart, “Lay. Down. With. Me.” My “with me’s” needed me, so I decided to ‘lay down’ the dish I was drying, and let the Monopoly game begin. (Yes, those games can last a long time, but someday I may wish it had lasted a little longer.)

How about you? It may not be a child that needs you. It may not be a sick friend or family member that needs you. It may be totally different circumstances than mine.

And…it may be Jesus, who just wants us to ‘lay down’ the ‘things’ that we are convinced must be done first – and instead – spend time with Him.

Day 11

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By David Freeze

Last morning in Arizona drags on, then New Mexico in the afternoon.
    People sometimes ask what makes a nice evening motel experience. Last night, I was at the Budget Inn in Safford, Arizona. The owner was genuinely interested in my ride, plus he made sure I knew about the food choices close by. The room was spotless, with plenty of room for the bike and a good supply of ice. And it was quiet! A few nights on the road have been ruined by loud neighbors.


    The owner told me yesterday that the route ahead for today only had one small hill and the rest was flat. I found it one long hill for 35 miles, with a downhill finally for the last five. Very slow, I was only able to average 6mph. That first 40 miles of the day had no supply points.


    About noon, I arrived in Duncan, where the only convenience store there had plenty of business. With no supplies available on the route  for the hot afternoon ride, I bought plenty of water and even went back twice. My card was declined the second time, with an email asking if the charges were legitimate. The cashier told me that the road ahead was mostly flat, something that I hoped was true but would not count on it. She was right.


    As I write this, a massive storm is happening outside. Power has gone off twice already and I can hear the wind howling. All this on a day with virtually no clouds and only a 10% chance of rain.


  So far, I am safe inside the Holiday Motel in Lordsburg, New Mexico. My food came from Dollar General. I ate a quart and a half of ice cream soon as Soon as I got to the room, and have used plenty of good ice too. It was hot today.


    Two unusual things from this morning included historical markers at the sites where settlers were killed by the warring Apaches. The other thing actually got worse all day. Persistent flies were on me even when riding, and were worse when I stopped. First day for this occurrence. Today had 78 miles.


    Tomorrow will start the serious climbing on up to just over 8,200 feet. I will analyze as I go because many services are not available at higher altitudes. And Texas is just a few days away.


    Luann and Gary Fesperman from the Trophy House are regular ride sponsors and chipped in again. The Trophy House does all the awards for our races.


    Join me tomorrow night from who knows where. I just know I’m climbing again.

Day 10

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By David Freeze

First, just a little bit about last night left unsaid. I got to the room very late after struggling with big climbs all day. When I finally got to the Belle Aire Motel, I found the perfect small room at a great price and some high tech too. I have never seen a shower that the water comes out of a wide and flat shower head at the ceiling. The water totally covered me because I didn’t know how to adjust it. Might have to get one of those for home.


    Today, I left Globe on another severe hill up and out of the beautiful little town. My favorite town of all I’ve seen on this trip. I spent the whole day on US 70, with most of the bike lane in poor quality. First stop after massive rollers, endless ups and downs, was Peridot. The only store in town was all but empty and had a sign on the door, “No mask, no entry!”.  So I skipped it and rode on. A small store listed on the map didn’t materialize and I began to worry about water.


    23.5 miles later, while riding in the San Carlos Apache Reservation, I finally found the listed store in Bylas, named after a long ago chief. Again, “no mask, no entry” was posted on the door but others were going in and I did too. I got ice, water and a drink, along with a cookie. Not a single person smiled to anyone in the store, so I was glad to leave.


    While hot, the terrain eased off some and so did the heavy traffic. I passed through Geronimo, nothing but a sign and a few older buildings.


    Then it got better, the store in Fort Thomas had a display on the Indian warfare era. Very interesting, especially the old pictures of the fort itself. After Geronimo’s final surrender, the fort  was used to make sure that his followers stayed at home along the fertile farmland next to the Gila River. All this area had farming with hay and soybeans looking great.


    I then rode through Pima and Thatcher, both squarely in the farm belt. My final destination was Safford, where after 80 miles, I will spend the night at the Budget Inn. It’s 99 degrees outside, but maybe was hotter earlier.


    Still, it was a great day!  Here’s how so many of my favorites came together. Anytime I can ride along a river and a railroad track, it means that the area is flat. I had a tailwind too and the best bike lane all day, plus reasonable drivers. I’m certainly out of the desert, at least for now.


    Finally, I have some challenges beginning tomorrow with almost non existent supply points. Long rides with just what I have. I will plan it out tonight.


    Thanks to Gear for Races for again sponsoring my ride. Luis Villareal has supplied Rowan’s shirts for years.
    See you back here tomorrow for what happens on the unsupplied ride!

Trusting God

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By Doug Creamer

Trusting God

            My former pastor told us a story many times about getting a skin cancer diagnosis. No one wants to have any kind of cancer on or in their body. The doctors had taken a biopsy and when he called to check on the results, he received news that he didn’t want to hear. He was away from the house when he got the news. When he arrived home his granddaughter met him at the door and asked, “Do you want to hear my Bible verse?” He looked at her and said, “Yes.”

            The Bible verse was Hebrews 10:23 – “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.” Isn’t that just like God? The world gives us some bad news and He sends us some good news. God promised that He was going to be faithful even in the midst of a cancer diagnosis. The end of the story is that God kept His promise. The doctors removed the offending cancer cells and he was completely healed.

            That story came to mind recently while I was sitting in my dermatologist’s office. It was time for my annual checkup and I had a cyst I wanted him to check. The nurse greeted me warmly and escorted me back to the exam room. Before I could tell her why I was there she asked about the cyst on my arm. I told her about it and the previous cyst that had been on my arm. It had been hit by a door jamb when I rounded a corner too quickly and there was a scab where it had been. 

            She explained that it didn’t look like a scab to her and that the doctor might want to take a biopsy of it. She left me to sit and think about it. The doctor came in and immediately focused on my arm. I explained what had evolved over time. He told me that he was very concerned about it and that he had never seen anything like it. He also informed me that he was removing it before I left the office that day.

            In a way, I was relieved to have it removed, but also concerned because the doctor thought it might be cancer. It didn’t take him long to remove the offending thing from my body. I asked the doctor what we needed to do if it happened to be cancer. He looked straight at me and said “Don’t worry, we got clean edges and there is nothing further for us to do.”

            I took the doctor at his word and have not worried about the outcome of the pathology report. But the big bandage on my arm has caused many people to ask what happened. As I have shared my story with others, I have learned that many people have had similar experiences.  

            My dad told me not to worry, that this was only the beginning of other little things to be removed from my body. He has had some things zapped or frozen off his skin. He has also been cut like I was and recovered completely. My mother has had skin cancer removed from her body too, and she has completely recovered.

            The stories that family and friends have shared have been a source of encouragement. I am not sure I really needed it as I have obeyed my doctor’s orders and not worried. He said I would be called this week with the results of my pathology report, but I think he is more concerned that my skin heals up properly.

            I share my story with you to encourage you to get things that don’t look right checked out. If doctors get to things early enough it is only skin deep and you will probably recover quickly. If you wait, it can grow deeper and cause more complications or even spread to other places. You know the moles that have been there your whole life and those that have changed or suddenly appeared. Be wise and get things checked out.

            It is vitally important that in all things we trust God. He is our source, protector, and healer. He keeps His eye on us, watching over us day and night. Nothing slips by His attention and nothing catches Him by surprise. He is with you and will walk with you through whatever you are facing. His right arm is not too short for you. His angels stand ready to fight for you. Nothing is too difficult for God. Nothing is impossible for God. Call upon Him and trust Him.

Doug Creamer has a new book at Amazon: EncouragingU: Summer Stories. Contact him at PO Box 777, Faith, NC 28041or doug@dougcreamer.com

A Bush, Bumblebees, and a Butterfly

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By Roger Barbee

A Bush, Bumblebees, and a Butterfly

Next to one side of our screen porch is an abelia bush. Now in early August, it is covered with small, white nectar producing blossoms, so each morning the hum of bumblebee wings bathes the summer air as they move from bloom to bloom for the bush’s sweet juice of life. It is a morning music that I have come to anticipate during these past days; however, earlier this week a visitor graced the bush in its search for some of the same life-giving nectar: An eastern tiger swallowtail butterfly with its full yellowed wings trimmed in black with a bit of blue, joined the bees in the nectar dance of the abelia. The splash of blue identifies this particular swallowtail as a female.

The swallowtail is a large butterfly and  a regular summer visitor to the Lake Norman area. Its bright yellow wings dazzle in the morning calm as it dances from bloom to bloom, and because of its size, the swallowtail appears too large to light on one of the delicate, white blossoms. But despite the size difference, the swallowtail perches over and over onto different blooms–in a ballet developed by a force stronger than any we know of, or any we can comprehend.

I read somewhere that a bumblebee, based on aerodynamics, cannot fly.  According to physics, it is too heavy and round in relation to its wing size to fly. As I watch and hear the flying bumblebees at the abelia bush, I wonder if the bumblebees know that they cannot fly.  But they have other things to consider each morning, and the rapid movement rate of their wings adds a soft hum to the morning.

The swallowtail, like the bumblebees, is an amazing animal. Its life cycle began just weeks before as a small, round egg on a leaf. Going through metamorphosis of four stages, this beautiful female swallowtail that I watch is the result of a process scientist do not yet fully understand. But I do not need to understand how the butterfly came to be any more than I need to understand the Milky Way in order to appreciate the beauty of both. In his poem, When I Heard The Learn’d Astronomer, Walt Whitman tells of having attended a lecture where he saw all the charts and proofs and heard all the explanations, but upon leaving the lecture, he “Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.”

Explanations and proofs are of value and are even necessary at times. However, each morning watching the insects fluttering about the abelia bush, I am filled with amazement that such delicate animals and small, white blossoms serve such a vital role in the world. And here it is each morning, a free show if I slow down to see it–a dance of life that gives new life for the cycles of life on our “small blue dot.”

Day 8

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By David Freeze

Beat the day before!


  That is one of my personal goals and I also use it for my personal training clients. But so far, this trip seems to be setting the bar higher and higher every day. I started the issue late last night, and you will see what developed.


    Last night, I was reading the route maps after I had submitted my story and photos. I read that many cyclists might consider exchanging United States Bicycle Route 90 for the next segment of Adventure Cycling’s map. I decided to do it about 10pm, partly because I had already used US 60 before.


    So, I collected my damage deposit early this morning at the Econolodge and hit the road at first light again, planning to get out of Phoenix before another hot day got started. I looked at the USBR route and jumped on US 60 first thing. About 8 miles in, you guessed it, I got my first ever visit from an Arizona State trooper. He sat behind me in his car and told me to exit the freeway immediately on his loudspeaker, which I was not going to do without talking to him. He came up the bike and said, “So, I’m going to write you a ticket!” I calmly explained what I was doing and that cyclists had used this route numerous times. He didn’t like that and went back to his car telling me to wait. For 15 minutes I stood there, getting hotter in two ways. When he was ready to talk, he pulled the car up beside me and said, “You rode that thing to Alaska?” He had changed completely and told me what he suggested I do, which was to follow a very long city street until the freeway ended and then join US 60 again. I did that and was not hassled anymore, but I even had the cycling agency’s number for him to call.


  Back on 60 and losing time, I didn’t really know what to expect. It was steady climb from the time I left Phoenix and getting hotter. The first town was Superior and I was toasted pretty well by then. After refueling and already at 3,000 feet, up from 1100 that morning, I climbed for the next four miles to use a tunnel to go through a mountain. Then a rainstorm hit, dropping the temperature at least 20 degrees. Expecting easy riding on the other side of the tunnel, we continued to climb and eventually topped out at 4,600 feet, highest yet.
  Very slow with the continued climbing, I had no service to let the motel know that I was still coming, but thankfully he held the room anyway. I am in the Belle Air Motel, very high tech in some ways with the owner in his early 30’s.


    Towns visited today included Superior, one of few with a stout uphill right through town and beyond. Then Miami, Claypool and Globe, where I am spending the night. All of them run together, with Miami in the process of cleaning up from a Saturday flood.  I saw spectacular mountain scenery this afternoon, including Devil’s Canyon. Today’s mileage totaled 75.


    I’m expecting less climbing tomorrow on the way to Safford, which will set me up for a long stretch the following day without supply points. Tomorrow in this area should be less than a hundred degrees, first of those in a while. The elevation helps. New Mexico is just a couple days ahead.


    Peter Asciutto and Vac and Dash in Albemarle support Rowan running in various ways. He is also a regular sponsor of my rides.


    Last thing I did today was stop by a grocery store and cram a bunch in already full bags. I hope to not be as late getting off the road tomorrow night. See you then for what happens on Day 9!

Day 7

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By David Freeze

  I met first light this morning on the way out of Wickenburg. I knew my maps called for a mostly flat and somewhat downhill ride. Two McDonald’s Egg McMuffins,less the sausage, hit the spot. A low in the upper 70’s felt even a little chilly on the bike.


    I rolled through Morristown with no services but a very good road. Then my plan of getting ice 10-12 times a day began in Whittmann.


    Next, the suburbs of Phoenix began, including Surprise, Peoria and Glendale. With Phoenix they all total over 2 million people. My maps called for me to follow various trails and canal paths, etc., and not see the city. After a couple of miles of useless up and downs meant for mountain bike riders, I got off the trails and hit the streets. It was well over 30 miles of riding across the city with multiple dismounts at traffic light, well over a hundred at least. A total of 84 miles felt strong.


    At least one source had the high in Phoenix at 107, but I never got overheated although my phone did. It got all confused and wanted me to make wrong turns on the way to the Econolodge where I am spending the night. In my 12th stop of the day for ice, I actually placed the phone on top of a bag of ice. The phone shut down for temperature twice.


    One of the nicest things today happened when I was riding through one of better neighborhoods with colored gravel for yards. A very nice woman stepped out of her garage and helped with directions and with a very cold bottle of water. From Kentucky, she had recently moved to Phoenix to help her health with the arid climate. She told me that natives call the current weather “monsoon season” because it the only time of the year when it is humid. I heard a weather guy on TV last night say that the humidity was lifting out.


    Late this afternoon, I saw the University of Arizona in Tempe, the downtown area and rode into Mesa, where I spent the night. Nothing really unusual happened today, until I got to the motel. No ice, no chair in the still nice room, a cash damage deposit required and more.


    Tomorrow starts my second map sequence with another round of significant climbing. It will be uphill all day. And over the next 400 miles, every town is small and some spaced far apart.       

       
      Dick and Jean Richards are back as significant sponsors of this ride, and thanks to them for their continued support.


      On we go, the first week done. See you tomorrow with tired climbing legs!

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