The Red Roof wins the prize for the noisiest motel room of the trip. Even though there are few weeks of cycling to do there is no way that any motel could beat it. It couldn’t have been louder if the train line actually passed through the room.
In actual fact, the line was approximately 50 metres away from the room, but with no noise insulation and goods trains running through the night, it might as well have been 5 metres. When there wasn’t a train, the gap was filled with the noise of the interstate, which was only a further few metres beyond the train lines.
It was a free breakfast, so no need to elaborate. As we were on the second floor (first floor if you are from the US) we first took the bikes down to the car park, then used gravity to get everything else down.
Checked out we headed back out on to Route 66. No hard shoulder cleaning had taken place overnight, which at a guess is consistent with the past decade, so the going continued to be a bit of a slalom to avoid a puncture. The main carriageway was quite busy, so while we could have used that instead of the hard shoulder we tried to keep off it as long as we could.
Most of the traffic appeared to be heading for the I-40, so when the hard shoulder disappeared shortly after the I-40 on-ramp the Route 66 traffic was almost non-existent. The road was quite flat, so the miles passed under the wheels quite quickly. This was a relief as today we were heading to the Petrified Forest National Park and, according to the website, needed to be at the Visitor Centre before 5 pm to collect our free camping permit. It was, therefore, the opposite to relief when we came to a sign that read ‘Road Closed’. One option would have been to go back and join the I-40, which would have added miles and made our 5 pm deadline challenging or continue on and keep our fingers crossed.
With our fingers crossed we continued down Route 66 until we came to a solid barrier across the road, with just enough room to squeeze a bike through. Bike squeezed through, up at the top of the hill we were about to climb we could see the reason for the road closure. It appeared that a few huge boulders had fallen from the cliff above and blocked the road, but it wasn’t clear from the bottom of the hill whether we would be able to get through. It was therefore with great relief when we reached the top of the hill that luck was on our side and there was space for us to get past.
With the road to ourselves, we continued along the blocked road for several miles until we came to the first services of the day. It was clear something was up as the services took the form of ‘Indian’ gift shops of every shape and size. It then became clear what it was through the text on some of the advertisement signs… we were in Arizona.
After a short restroom and jelly sweet stop, we pedalled on for the remainder of Route 66 day through scenery increasing in beauty with every mile, until we came to the last stop before we would need to join the I-40. This too was an ‘Indian’ gifts stop with a complete absence of brain freezing drinks for Deborah, although as the temperature was only 18oC, withing a couple of minutes of stopping it was a hot chocolate that she fancied instead. There was no hot chocolate either, so we settled for the next best thing, a Navajo Fry Bread.
While at the stop we had a brief chat with fellow cycle tourer, albeit of the lycra-clad variety. David was on route from Southern California, heading to Albuquerque, then taking a train back to Southern California. He had previously cycled part of Route 66 with his daughter, but as she was now at college he was cycling this part of it himself. We mentioned the part of the route that was blocked, but let him know that he could get around it without too many problems. As David still had a long day ahead of him and we could smell the fry bread we bid him farewell and got down to filling our faces.
We could have joined the I-40 immediately, but instead decided to add a little adventure to our day by cycling a 6-mile dirt road stretch through an Apache reservation. Since this road appeared to be used to access several local communities we guessed it would be in reasonable shape, so just when we had gone too far to turn back, as expected, the road deteriorated into a mountain bike test track (moderate rating). Will we ever learn!?
We finally made it back on to a surface that could loosely be described as a road and up to a junction. The road that likely was once Route 66 had a big sign reading ‘No Outlet’, which we assumed means it leads to a dead-end. The only option open to us, which we try to avoid when we can, was the I-40 interstate. At 31 miles this was to be our longest stretch on an interstate to date.
Cycling on the interstate feels safe enough as there is always a wide hard shoulder. In fact, it feels safer than many of the busy smaller roads that we usually find ourselves cycling on without a hard shoulder. The problem with the interstate is that it is loud and boring. That said, as the road surface is usually good and there is nothing to stop to take a photo of, they are fast and we needed fast today.
While we gained an hour when we crossed another timezone into Arizona, we still now had only four hours to get our camping permit before the Petrified Forest Visitor Centre closed. Head down we pushed on as hard we could, ticking off the miles relatively quickly. Just when it was looking likely we would make it to the visitor centre with a whole hour to spare Deborah spotted she had a flat. Luckily this was close to an off-ramp, we took the ramp and stopped to assess the tyre.
Without turning the tyre I spotted a thin piece of wire, likely from the core of a shredded truck tyre sticking out of her front tyre. Pulling it out it was clear that the tyre would not be able to retain any pressure, even for a short time, so the inner tube would need to be changed. Deborah has been practising her pit-stop techniques, but as time was running out and without a Plan B for sleeping accommodation, I changed the inner tube for one of the gold plated ones that we picked up in Albuquerque a few days ago.
We pushed on as hard as we could as we didn’t know the process for getting hold of a camping permit, just that they were only available during visitor centre hours. As we pulled off the I-40 the visitor centre was visible to our right. We cycled in through the main park entrance and up to the glass entrance door of the visitor centre. It was 4:15 pm. We had made it.
Me: Could I have a camping permit for two adults for tonight please
Park Warden: You need to apply at least an hour before closing time.
Me: It doesn’t say that on the website.
Park Warden: Which website?
Me: Your site.
Park Warden: Well it should.
Me: Well it doesn’t. I have just cycled 65 miles to get here by the time it states on your website, so I would be grateful if you could help us out as we don’t have anywhere else to stay tonight [puppy dog eyes].
Park Warden: Let me see what I can do {picked up phone – explained the situation to someone – looked me up and down – said okay to the person on the phone – put the phone down). Okay, you are in luck as long as you can get to the trail before 5pm.
Me: We will do our best. Thanks.
Paperwork filled in we were issued without camping permits. We then cycled to the entrance to the park, handed over our $20 park entry fee, noting that while a single bike cost $10 and car with up to seven passengers only costs $20!
By the time we reached the trailhead at the Painted Desert Inn it was closed, but there was a big sign that explained the camping deal. We couldn’t take our bikes with us and we needed to walk one mile along the trail before camping… and we needed to be on the trail by 5 pm.
We quickly rearranged the panniers, with everything we needed for the night, plus our valuables, in half of the panniers. The other half of the panniers were then secured to the two bikes as best we could, with the bikes themselves locked to a bike rack. With the place now deserted, we headed off down into the Painted Desert along the trail that would hopefully lead to a flat area of ground large enough to fit our tent before it got dark.
Estimating a mile is easy when your arms are hurting through carrying four heavy panniers designed for a bike rake rather than a Bob rack, so the mile was reached when my fingers hurt too much. Deborah carrying a backpack and shoulder bag, both designed for the job that they were being put to also agreed on the mile estimate as she had a stone in her sandal.
We quickly made camp as the sun was setting then our minds moved onto our stomachs so we started to think about food. We enjoyed a lovely cheesy gloopy pasta meal directly under the band on the Milky Way before retiring to our sleeping bags for what surely would be a quiet night after last night. Surely!
Ugghh. I don’t get this access service.
Hope it was a restful night.
Access Service?
It was a restful night’s sleep for me… read on!! 😁🐿
Access Service?
It was a restful night’s sleep for me… read on!!
Access as in making it easy to get to your bed. I’ve never heard of a place that makes you leave your kit for would be thieves and so far away you’d never know your stuff was gone till the next day
We wouldn’t have been able to take our bikes down the trail even it it was allowed. It was inside the National Park, so I guess it was safe enough.
As in making it easy to get to your bed. I’ve never heard of a place that makes you leave your kit for would be thieves and so far away you’d never know your stuff was gone till the next day