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Day 3 - Patagonia to Tombstone - Tombstone Inn (53 miles) Dave and Linda Sutton from Tennessee, were the Two'sDay couple - well, almost. The stoker was a blow up doll, dressed in madam's cycling clothes. Linda was recovering from surgery, so followed us in a screaming red Mustang convertible, which became an impromptu camera crew car. Well, that's how I justified my sagging in it ... Tombstone is a Universal-Studios type cowboy town in siesta. A lone horse drawn cart clops down the single dusty street, and there's a shoot out every so often. Last year a dame in a big dress stood on a saddle and inspired one of our riders to do same. You can buy all manner of country souvenirs here, and last time Bobbi Kamil and I splurged on a fancy Annie Oakleyesque belt each. Mine has big silver dollar medallions with turquoise centers and weighs about as much as a Kryptonite Heavy Duty Cable Lock. In fact I should use it for a lock. Hence, it spends most of it's time bending the clothes rail back in Eugene ... |
Day 4 - Tombstone to Douglas - Gadsden Hotel (53 miles) The Gadsden Hotel was our first real historic hotel of the tour. Its riotous lobby featured marble columns, stained glass walls, Tiffany ceilings, a stuffed Puma and ghosts, apparently. We did not get to meet their legendary eccentric lift operator Carmen, but you might if you go there on the days she decides to show up. It is a wonderful place with strange little nooks going off the main lobby where you can eat, drink, sip coffee, play cards or hide. The rooms are rather like old dorms. The owner told us that Pancho Villa is reputed to have stayed here, or at least ridden his horse through it. The restaurant is amazingly affordable, with most meals being well under $10. The hotel is a mere six long blocks from the Mexican border. We passed through the turnstiles without any one stopping us and into the ramshackle embrace of border town commerce - sombreros, boots, ponchos, ceramics, and pharmacies. We went into a 'farmacia' where I was able to buy three of those puffy asthma things for $15. Having lived in Latin America I know there are many things you can buy over the counter that would otherwise require a prescription in 'first world' countries. You can often buy tablets, pills, sticks of chewing gum and cigarettes singly, and cookies come in packets of three. In rusty Spanish I asked a guard to recommend for a good place for tacos but everything appeared to be 'in siesta' til 5.30pm. We sat in a sultry concrete park adorned with crew-cut trees and a central gazebo. Many of the riders had came back from the border town earlier, saying there 'was nothing there'. It all depends what you're expecting to see. This is small, border town Mexico. On our return Leon and I, being non-US citizens, were bailed up while our passports were scrutinized. Steve and Craig were waved through. Outside, a high wall of metal slats separates the two countries, a bizarre thing when you think about it long enough.
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Today was arguably the piece de resistance of the tour. Bisbee is an artsy epicenter perched in a ravine that you have to climb into and then out of. It's home to the fabulous Copper Queen Hotel, a grand dame of a lodge with stuffed lounges and bars and multi-level porches on which to sip beer and contemplate the blissful meaninglessness of life. It's reminiscent of a tiny alpine village without the snow, with crafty shops lining the twisty streets. First stop on the way in is Dot's Diner, an institution that has since changed hands. We were expecting to see Kirsten from last year, dressed up in her powder green 50's style uniform and crimson apron and waitress cap, but she'd moved on. Instead, we completely cleaned out the little van of ice cream and therefore milkshakes, to the owners' consternation. Some of us had to resort to a giant slice of Bisbeeberry pie (raspberries and blueberries) with whipped cream - before lunch. The adjoining trailer park, The Shady Dell, is a collection of baby Airstreams and other pods-on-wheels, perfect for a quirky honeymoon or when a resort holiday in the Bahamas becomes passé. That evening the Verona Gallery offered us a private party including wine and cheese, thanks to Lon's dad Ed Haldeman. Bobbi turned up in a cocktail outfit, and Steve Chang wore his Hugo Boss Jacket. I can't remember the last time I was on a bike tour that justified dressing up a little. A nice change! It was worthwhile for the owner, who made two very decent sales. Despite this coup I am not sure why she refused to let me use the rest room. The owner of the Bike Brothel (who did let me use his rest room) opened his store to show us his fine collection of classic old bikes and stuff like silk ties with cycling motifs and nuevo-retro wool jerseys. Strolling around town the hill we spotted a series of old and Tour de France-ish cycling photos through an open door. This was the office of La Vuelta de Bisbee, apparently the oldest stage race in America. 250 participants, held in April each year, $80 entry fee. The race organizer keeps it going to maintain the tradition. Read about it http://www.lvdb.com Bisbee is a great place to buy stuff - small expensive things you can carry back in your saddle bag. One rider bought an antique ring for his partner and made the mistake of asking yours truly what I thought of it. The three dark round stones caused created a neuro-association in my brain of a huntsman spider's eyes, and with half a glass of Riesling in my chemical-free body I told him so. (Insert loud buzzer sound here). Permalink to the full story: http://www.bikefriday.com/desertcamp07 |