Waking up in the morning, in the middle of the desert is a special experience. Whenever I camp, I generally wake up around 4:30-5am, so it's cold. Real cold. My stomach is growling, and I know I need to poop. I'm surrounded by sleeping beauties, but I gotta go. I unzip my tent, put on my shoes and roll out to find the perfect spot. The sky is clear, and the stars are shining as bright as they ever have. This will be one memorable poop, I know it. Once I'm far enough away, I dig a hole and pop a squat. As I wait for things to naturally take their course, I look around and I'm taken by the beauty that surrounds me; so thankful for the opportunity to ride my bike and be in the presence of other strong women with the same goals. All of a sudden, a headlight appears. It's Martha, from Vermont. I'm instantly embarrassed as there are now two full moons in full view. She's looking for the same type of spot and ensures me she isn't looking. Ha! I cover up my hole (no pun intended) and head back to my tent. The others are starting to get going, so I decide to do the same. Previously, I had saved a danish from Le Buzz, knowing it would be a special breakfast treat this morning. A few of us gather around a small fire May has made, to cook her breakfast. As I pull the danish from the bag, it falls into the wash. Fuck. I try my hardest to wipe all the rocks away but ended up eating the crunchiest danish of all time. I say to myself "God made dirt and dirt don't hurt, but if I die, God knows why!" While I don't believe in God, this saying has always brought me comfort before/after eating something that has fallen on the ground. After all, this trip was about doing things that might normally be out of your comfort zone, and I can certainly add eating a rocky danish to that list. Every day I tear down camp, my goal is to get faster and faster and never be the last one to finish. My group gets ready to head out and I see Eve (UK) up ahead. I ride up alongside her and we start chatting. The day before, I watched her work a miracle on Karen's bike and I'm interested in getting to know her better. We head out in front of the others and it's just the two of us for a while. She looks over and says, "I hope you won't be offended, but I don't talk much when I ride." I tell her I'm a very similar rider, especially when the terrain is tough and uphill, which it is at this point. Imagine it: out in the middle of the desert, just two girls riding their bikes on washboard, trying to pick the best lines to avoid chattering out your own teeth. We're approaching Box Canyon Road, and I don't know what's in store. The real uphill hits quickly and before you know it, I'm in my lowest gear and spinning. Walking is not an option for the rest of the ride; I got my walking pass on days 1 and 2. Our group starts to break up and before you know it, I'm alone again. At this point in the rally, I've come to appreciate these moments of solitude, as we have so few of them in everyday life. I look around and I'm taken by the vastness of the canyon we're ascending; it's massive and I am but a tiny speck within it. Around the next bend, I see a truck stopped and my mind starts to wander. As I get closer, I see other riders and recognize it as our Komoot team, and they have lots of water for us. Lael is cheering us on as we crest one of the last uphills out of the canyon. I can't describe the feeling I got to hear Lael cheering our names and encouraging us as we approached. It was really so cool. We stop for a bit, load up on water and share snacks on the side of the road. We stick around to cheer on the other riders, who are making their way to our rest spot. The sense of community I felt in this moment was surreal and I can't think of another experience that has ever come close to making me feel like I was a part of something bigger. It's getting warmer and without shade 60 degrees really feels more like 75, so we know it's time to hit the road. Once we emerge from the canyon, we're routed to Greaterville Rd and eventually, highway 83, to make our way towards Sonoita. Once we hit pavement, my ass was stoked. My saddle sores have become nearly unbearable and I'm standing and pedaling as much as I can to avoid contact between my crotch and saddle. There's rumor of an ice cream/hot dog shop in Sonoita and it becomes my "carrot" to get me into town. As we roll up, the place is PACKED. The wait for food is long and I'm hangry, so I decide to move on to plan b: the Shell gas station across the street. Poppy and Makayla are sitting outside and let me know there's no wait for food and they have A LOT of options. Sure enough, they were right! Once inside, I'm welcomed by the employees and you'd have thought you were at a 5-star hotel, by how accommodating they were. They want to know about our ride, where we're from and what they can do to make our ride better. Once again, I'm astonished by the humanity of complete strangers, and I feel loved. After grabbing a sandwich, chips and a chocolate milk, I join the others outside. It's getting windy (no surprise there) and we decide it's time to make our final approach into Patagonia. Luckily, it's all downhill from here, but I am certainly tired and ready to be off the bike for the rest of the day. I leave with Makayla and Lydia and as we creep away from Sonoita, it's clear that I'm fading. I tell them to go ahead and ride ahead of me. I know I'm slowing them down. "We're not leaving you behind", Makayla tells me. For the next 15 miles into Patagonia, my friends "pull" me all the way. I was so thankful for their company and strength. They will never know. We roll into Patagonia at 3:22pm and immediately hit up Red Mountain Food Store: a natural grocery store in town. The cashier asks if I'm looking for anything in particular and I tell her I'm desperate for diaper cream. She doesn't even blink when I ask and goes straight to a shelf near the register and searches for the cream. WAAAAAY on the back of the shelf, she finds a single tube of diaper cream. I could kiss her I'm so thankful. After purchasing diaper cream and three popsicles (yes, all three were for me) I head out front and shamelessly stick my hand down my bibs and go to town, applying my cream. Instant relief. We're close to where we're staying for the night, but even a single mile ride, feels daunting at this point. Once I'm finished with my popsicles, we mount our bikes and head to TerraSol for the night. This accommodation was made pretty early in the planning of our trip, and I'm glad I claimed a spot before they ran out! This spot is run by Mary Tolena and is a haven for folks hiking/biking the AZT (Arizona Trail) and the surrounding trails. We're immediately greeted by Astral, who lives on property and takes care of folks and their bikes: basically, the angel of TerraSol. Astral gives us a tour of the property, explains where things are located and where we can wash out clothes for the night. Excellent. Once the tour has commenced, we have an open lay of land to choose from for our camp spots. Mary is making dinner for everyone (60 people.....holy smokes she has a serving heart) and desert, too. I get in line to take my shower and chat with people, while we wait. I finally get the opportunity to talk with so many people I haven't met yet and it's cool to hear the similarities in our experience, no matter our experience on a bike. Once it's my turn to shower, I almost can't believe the water is real. It's only been 2 days since I showered at the lodge on Mt.Lemmon, but it felt like forever ago. When my shower is over, I put on a change of clean clothes and head to the laundry mat with Makayla and Lydia. The shower must have really released something inside me, because I felt this immediate wave of overwhelmingness as we headed back to camp from the laundry. I look around and everyone is having a good time: chatting, drinking and hanging out. But for some reason, I was not having as good of a time. I miss Johnny. I miss our adventures together and even feel guilty for experiencing this without him. It's silly, but I broke down and cried. Carmen noticed I was a bit off and consoles me. She too, is having an emotional experience. We talk about it for a bit and then wander back to camp. I call Johnny and cry some more. He asks me if I want to keep going. Quitting was never an option, but given the way I'm feeling, it's a valid question. Being away from your person and doing physically tough shit with practical strangers, is an experience in and of itself. I tell him I'm going to persevere, and he tells me he's proud of me, loves me and can't wait to hear about my experiences when I get back. I feel better overall, but now, I'm physically AND mentally exhausted. I make my way to my tent and zip up for the night. I lay there in awe of the things we've accomplished already and the excitement of what's to come tomorrow, and the days after that.
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