Outside Scott and Stacy's new palace in Phoenix.
Liberal use of sunscreen. I used up the last of the Kiehls samples that Jen sent with me.
Heading out from suburban Phoenix.
Yep, the wind again. It changed direction a bit, so it was still in my face even though we decided to head southeast toward Tucson. Regardless, it's still blowing the wrong way. Argh.
I'm killing myself, heading directly into a headwind . . .
. . . only to find that this road called Hunt Highway turns into a dirt field.
Yeah, the Arizona Gazetteer is about to get tossed.
Back to the grind. Arizona 87.
A cow-catcher. I'm getting good at bunny-hopping these.
Standing on the pedals to keep moving in the wind. Ugh. Using 1200 watts to go 13 mph is pretty ugly.
I'm feeling pretty beaten up, and it's only 40 miles in.
Rest stop coming up.
And I'm off again. Munch some food, drink a couple bottles of water, refill, and get back on the road before I get tight. Paul is an awesome SAG driver. I get off the bike, and he has a chair waiting for me, cold drinks ready, and food within reach. Yeah!
The truck traffic picked up a lot, as there was construction on I-10 that forced many more vehicles than usual onto 87. Which sucked, because the shoulder was really rough, and the surface was sticky in the 105 degree heat.
Scott Crabtree calling to check in. It was great to hear some words of encouragement.
Eleven Mile corner was eleven miles from nowhere.
I raced this Union Pacific train for a while, enjoying the fact that it broke the wind for me for a couple miles. But I didn't have the horsepower to stay with it for long.
Still 55 miles to go, and it's 105 degrees, wind in my face.
Yeah, I got dropped by a slow train.
Picacho Peak in the background.
Paul: "Route flat, scenery not."
