Bike Friday Desert Camp '07: Part 3 of 3

Day 6 - Bisbee to Sonoita - Sonoita Inn and B&B's (53 miles)

After several days of long and straight riding, even the most hill-averse were happy to tackle the 5-mile ascent up to Mule Pass. Rob English and Peter Kaspar decided to do it twice just because they could. This pass is probably a steady 6-8%, which I could easily do on a double chainring Capreo Pro Petite.

The Sonoita Inn is another jaw-dropper of a hotel. Formerly built as a stable for the famous racehorse Secretariat, aka Big Red, it is now an upscale lodge oozing boot scootin' chic. The top floor looks down into a pit housing an open fire lit lounge and banquet area, and each nuevo rustic suite is named after a prominent historic ranch in the area. In this sparse town, several other riders were lodged in some very stylish B&B's a mile or so from the Inn, I heard. The PACTOUR van chugged around to each, delivering the bags, then bringing the riders in and out of town for dinner. This is five star service!

Rob, who had breezed in hours before, discovered an isolated, organic health food bakery a dusty couple of log blocks off the main road. We made the epic journey across the scorched earth at 5pm to discover it had closed at 3pm. I tapped on the window of the lonely structure while Rob salivated at the wild onion and rosemary vegetable pies sitting in the glass case so close, yet so far away. Despite my hands clasped in a pleading gesture the woman who appeared in a doorway shrugged, then disappeared. As we retreated back down the road from the forlorn structure we wondered what is so hard about opening the door for an occasional customer in the middle of the boonies. We decided they must be rich.

Across the road from the Inn is an upscale restaurant called Canela that exudes San Francisco style, even though it's smack in the middle of what is basically a dustbowl. On the menu was Cornish game Hen, asparagus and cotija cheese ravioli (two big ones, not the shrink wrapped kind), spinach, citrus and roasted beet salad, butternut squash soup and bread rolls that were actually warm on the inside and crispy on the outside. Next door at the steakhouse you could have the regulation side of cow.

'Do you make money here?' I asked the server, who dispensed her duties with the air of a poncier platerie but with unaffected charm. One of the party ordered a glass of wine which was French - a rather long way from Sonoita.

'We're hoping it's going to be the next Napa Valley,' she said, look out across the scorched earth.

That evening we were treated to a talk by Catherine Shipley who told us how she flew from London to Amsterdam for 4 British Pounds. They trick being to sleep with your internet connection and watch for the specials like a hawk.

The last vision I had before falling asleep was watching the screaming red chamois of Peter Kasper's freshly washed bib shots strung up on the ceiling fan going around and around ...

Day 7 - Sonoita to Tucson (59 miles)

Today was a glorious almost-60 mile downhill run. We passed many places we'd come by earlier in the week, but scenery always looks different coming the other way and therefore is never a waste of time. Thunder Mountain is a large protrusion that casts a giant shadow across its base, and makes for spectacular windowless view.

Alan Scholz, recovering from a mysterious virus that unfortunately floored him for a couple of days in the middle of the tour, came back with a vengeance and was clocked drafting two Bianchi's and a Pocket Rocket Pro at a steady 35-40 mph. Who'd have thought a little 16" wheeled commuter bike with a noodling top gear of 85" would be seen holding its own on a PACTOUR Desert Camp? I was dropped after a few miles of apparently exercise-induced-asthmatic panting and slowed to film the saguaros.

In the evening people packed their bikes, jumped in the hot tub and many prepared to return to their snowbound destinations. We finished the evening with a showing of Route 66 By Bicycle: Pedaling the Mother Road and footage of the week as my camera saw it.

One rider, Fred, pulled his 18-wheeler truck up to the hotel. We watched him fold his Friday (one of two) and stuff it in the cabin between his snowboard, microwave oven, birdcage and printer 'for scanning stuff'. Fred brings a whole new meaning to the term 'Bike Friday World Traveler'. He's always on the road; he tells us his only other address is a mailbox somewhere in California. His best buddy, Bob, a parrot, was waiting in a cage in Tucson to bite the living daylights out of him for leaving him for a week. Fred has an idea to promote his favorite bike, and good health, to his trucking brethren. A sticker on his cabin that says:

Tired of being Fat? Ask me about my Friday!

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Thank you to Lon and Susan, Deb and Roger, Rebecca, Ed and Mary Jane for making this a really special Bike Friday Desert Camp. We hope you'll do it again and again!

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