Monday Evening, 11 September
Day Two- El Centro, California
I expected the second day to be easy: 88 miles, a long winding descent from Julian, then a brief roll across a nameless desert into the Imperial Valley and El Centro. Wrong. Rough road surface jarred the riders until their hands were numb. Temperatures climbed past 100 degrees and the dry hot air sucked precious water and salt from their cores.
I drove the lunch rig down the twisting hill, and the crew set up and served lunch under a tree by a lake. Hot dogs, cucumber salad, pickles, chips and soda. Water, salt and sugar.
First rider to arrive was SD Charlie. I figured he must be doing great after riding off the front all day. “How ya doin’, Charlie?”
“Bad. Heat is getting to me.”
He sat on a bench, slumped with his head down for ten minutes before touching the ice water I gave him.
Riders continued to arrive in small groups over the next three hours. Most but not all looked wasted. Spokane Bob, Big John from Kennett Square dripped sweat but looked strong.
Other riders slumped on benches, with ice socks draped over their necks. Ma Nancy had to force the smile that had come naturally the day before. She rode off shepherding two other dudes – MI Broh and one other guy.
A rider to remain nameless shared a story unlike any I’ve heard before. Feeling wasted, he stopped and sat against the shady side of a telephone pole. Then he felt the irrepressible urge to relieve himself. Number Two. He dropped his shorts, squatted behind a rock, started feeling dizzy and fell over sideways.
Three intrepid riders were last to leave the lunch stop. Xenia Brent, Albuquerque Karen and Alamo Ted. I was impressed with their character. They may have been the slowest riders this particular day, but they never whined or whimpered. After chatting amiably while recovering at lunch, they rode the final stretch to El Centro together. That’s what I call style!
