Sapulpa, Oklahoma and the End of the Ride

850 miles down. 1790 miles more to get to Los Angeles and the western terminus of Route 66. 1290 miles more if I only go to see the Grand Canyon. That’s the miles, but then there’s the mountains. Flagstaff is over 6000′ higher than Sapulpa, Oklahoma. Santa Fe even more. There are some very long climbs, and some pretty steep ones, between where I’m at and where I’d be going. And the Mohave Desert on the other side of the mountains. 150 miles of hot nothing.

That’s what lies in front of me if I continue on. And that’s the stuff I’m sure of. I’m only guessing at what traffic and road conditions will be like. And there’s absolutely no way of knowing what the wind or weather be.

Of course, I knew all of the above when I planned this trip months ago. What I didn’t know is whether my mind and my body could endure the ride. I still don’t know that. So here I am. Still undecided whether I should continue on. Whether I should go 90 miles further to Oklahoma City before making a decision. Or 280 miles beyond OKC to Amarillo. Or call it quits now and go home.

Temperature today in Salpulpa is expected to climb to near 98 F. Factor in the humidity and it’ll feel like 110 F. So definitely not riding today. If I decide to continue on for a bit longer, today will be another day of rest. Another ‘zero mile’ day. And the clock is ticking. Unlike my other summer adventures, this one has a hard-stop date. I’m already 3 days behind schedule if I want to finish in LA on time. So that’s looking more and more like it’s not going to happen. Riding to the Grand Canyon is still within reach, though. I probably have a week or more of zero-days still in the bank if I want to finish there.

A weak cold front is expected to move through tomorrow night. Temperatures are suppose to cool a bit into the mid-to-upper 80’s. Winds swing around to the east for a day or two. They’ll be at my back. The terrain to Oklahoma City looks to be rolling hills. Four or five 200′ climbs. If I wasn’t too aggressive, reduced my daily mileage, and played it smart, I could be in Oklahoma City in three days.

Between Oklahoma City and Amarillo, aside from two notable rises near Weatherford and Elk City, the terrain flattens and becomes a 200-mile-long 3000-foot climb on mostly I-40 frontage roads. Assuming the wind wasn’t blowing in my face, that stretch wouldn’t be too hard. At least on paper anyway. Just shift down into a lower gear and try to maintain a steady cadence.

Of course, that stretch also is open road. No shade. If the sun is beating down and the THI stayed above 85, it would be a very tough 200 miles. And the towns, motels, campgrounds, convenience stores, and other services become fewer and farther apart west of OKC. So there would be less opportunity to rest and recover during the day’s ride. More than likely, that section between OKC and Amarillo across west Oklahoma and the Texas panhandle wouldn’t be as easy as it appears on paper.

Then there’s my body. To be honest, I didn’t train for this. My body wasn’t ready. When you ride, the major muscles in your arms, legs and back do most of the grunt work, propelling the bike forward against the unrelenting resistance of gravity and wind. At the same time, scores of smaller muscles in the neck, wrists, hands and even feet continually fine tune your effort, holding the body in constant equipoise in order to maintain the balance necessary to keep a 25 pound bike laden with 50 pounds of gear upright on two 38 mm-wide tires. Those muscles have to be ready. They have to undergo weeks of training and preparation. If you try to ‘get in shape’ along the way, you’re not allowing enough time to repair all the micro-tears in the muscle fiber that occur. Instead of getting stronger, your muscles get sore. Your endurance erodes.

Then there’s mental toughness. Riding all day is work. It takes grit. The further west I traveled, the fewer were the places to stop for a respite from the heat and the sun. The options of places to stop overnight were fewer and farther between. Instead of feeling like an expedition to see what’s out there, my ride took on the feeling of a military campaign. There were objectives I had to reach by the end of the day. Alone and without vehicle support, there were no other options. So, every day became a test of grit and endurance. And as I mentioned above, the more I rode, the more my body silently screamed in protest. My muscles and my mind needed more than just a couple days of rest.

Maybe it would be easier to take a few days rest and then push on if I had something to look forward to. Something besides road noise and riding the shoulder of a busy highway as cars and trucks zoomed past less than 10 feet to my left. Sure, the Grand Canyon loomed. I’ve never been there and definitely want to visit. But it was 30 days away. Maybe more. And at 73 years of age, riding my bike up and across the open, semi-arid landscapes of New Mexico and Arizona in the summer seemed more of a challenge than an adventure. Something to endure rather than enjoy.

So, adding it all up. The ride was mentally and physically exhausting. The hardest part still lay ahead, and the rewards for all the effort and work didn’t seem like they’d measured up. So, I decided to stop here. No reason to go any further. Maybe I’ll re-attack the part of the route I didn’t finish next year; I don’t like leaving the rest of this ride just hanging out there unfinished. Maybe I’ll train better. Go lighter and faster. Leave earlier and ride west to east. Into the spring instead of into the summer. I don’t know. We’ll see.