Day 3: Victorville CA to 29 Palms CA

I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain
La, la, la ...

90 miles, pancake flat in the morning with sweet tailwinds. Nasty headwinds for 20 miles in the afternoon, then flats and descents

Desert, desert, desert. That was, in a nutshell and in great detail, our day. We started in an artificial desert suburb (sans accompanying urban center) and went through the desert on our carbon fiber horses. There was a nice 38-mile stretch without bathrooms of any kind, or a shrub big enough to squat behind-- sometimes being a girl sucks. Lots of sand, sandy hills, small sad shrubs, the occasional Joshua tree, and lots of big, mostly courteous trucks giving us lots of room on the shoulderless road.

The morning was nice and cool, and the road was wonderful (especially tucked in behind Ed, enjoying the benefit of his slipstream). The scenery was pretty for oh, about 15 minutes, and then it got boring, so we put in the earbuds and listened to our audiobooks for entertainment. After a nice lunch on the side of the road, the second half began with awful headwinds, but the last 20 or so miles were great so we're happy. 29 Palms is a Marine Corps base, and Ed's dad Jerry was stationed here for a bit when he was in the Marines. It's pretty small, and we're staying in a little adobe-style hut tonight. Ed's enjoying a massage as I write this, and I'm enjoying a cold Anchor Steam. Life is good.

So what are our days like? We get up around 6 or 6:30 in the morning, change into our clean bike clothes, download the day's New York Times podcast if we have internet access, pack up and have breakfast. We try to roll out by 7:30 or 8:00 to avoid some of the afternoon heat. All the guests are free to leave whenever we want, so there's no mass start. Everyone does their own thing: the fast people go fast, the slow people go slow, we run into and get to talk to different guests at different points in the day, and everyone's in a great mood. (Granted, it's only Day 3.) Ed and I bike at our own pace all day. I'm amazed he's stuck to the program! We've found that even though sometimes we're thinking "ugh... we're going soooooo slooooooow," we end up being happy we're on the slow plan when we roll into the hotel in the afternoon and feel good, not miserable. Along the way, we stop for lunch where one of the 2 support vans is pulled over with lots of goodies for us (including a nice tortellini salad today-- don't ask how our guide Big Wave Dave managed to get that cooked without a stove!), and we can hail them over at any point during the day when they pass us to fill up on water, Clif Bars, sunscreen, or to ditch our wind vests like I did this morning when it warmed up. The afternoons have been much windier and hotter so far, and thus we're less happy, but we're always happy when we see the van parked in front of the hotel because that means we can shower, put on not-so-tight clothes, nap, maybe get a massage or post on the blog, and chow down. For dinner, we have a designated restaurant, usually at the hotel, and we can go down at any time and order off the menu. Sometimes we sit with other guests if they're there, otherwise we're tired, antisocial honeymooners. We often eat with the guides as it turns out, and they've filled me in on Trek Travel gossip over the past year. We're brain dead by 8:30 and try to get to bed by 9:00-10:00, and start all over the next day!

Tomorrow is supposed to be the most desolate day of the trip-- something like 90 miles of it will be without houses or a gas station or anything at all. Let's hope the water holds out! And then already our first rest day. They're easing us into the trip by treating us to a rest day so early. Off to dionner now.