Beware the Ides of March.....continued (March 15: Day 12--Safford, AZ)

AS I was saying before sleep overtook me last night, the ride yesterday had it's challenges, physically and mentally.  The first 20 miles were up and down long inclines--2-4%  grades for the most part.  Riding on Highway 60 requires diligence as the shoulder is rough with cracks and breaks, has ambitious rumble strips,  is littered with debris, (mostly glass) and has overhanging thorn bushes that lay in wait to ambush passing riders.

As such, one has to chose to brave these risks or swing out into the highway when it is clear of traffic to ride. (Doing so requires a jarring ride across the rumble strip.)  About a quarter of our riders chose the latter, until a disgruntled driver called the Highway Patrol and complained--the riders were stopped and asked to stay in the shoulder.  So tha-thump, swerve and dodge was the name of the game.

The winds were ferocious! How hard was it blowing?.....as one member said..(this is going to be gross), 'my snot rocket went straight to the moon.'  Flags were flying straight out, with the wind blowing directly into our faces.  It was definitely a day to put your head down and just pedal to cadence.  For those that didn't make it over the rollers before the real winds kicked in, my condolences!  My average had been 16.7 mph until the wind, then it dropped to 15.3 with the same effort.  Just keep on spinning, spinning, spinning.

Motivated by Taylor Freeze at mile 68, that's what I did--head down and spin, spin, spin..... There I grabbed a hot fudge sundae and sagged the last 6 miles in; my hiney just couldn't handle anymore friction.  I walked like an ancient cowboy!

So the day was physcially and mentally challenging--it just felt like riding in a vortex.  For me, it was also a ride that saddened and shamed me.  Our route took us through the San Carlos Apache reservation.

I searched the internet to learn about this reservation, and the pictures and description that I found were not what I observed.  Run down, ramshackle homes with littered yards and tarp stapled over windows, broken cars, stray dogs, old tired horses and garbage were the norm.

Established in 1871,many bands of Apache were relocated to the reservation from their traditional homelands, which once extended through Arizona and New Mexico. Median family income is below $20,000 (2000 U.S. Census). Unemployment rates are very high compared to the state average.*(*resource).  I took this from their Chamber of Commerce website:
  "The Apache are descendants of the Ancients. Over time, many bands of Apache were relocated to the reservation from their traditional homelands extending from Texas through New Mexico and Arizona into Mexico and California. The San Carlos Apache Reservation was established on November 9, 1871 is the worlds first concentration camp still existing to this day. Our story, is the American History"  

Pretty much sums up the story, doesn't it. So while we, as a nation, did this to them 130 years ago, what has transpired since? More degradation and humiliation?  The littering of alcohol related glass and bottles on the road are evidence of the rampant alcoholism reported among the tribe.

As with many poverty stricken areas, though, I don't understand the wanton disregard for cleanliness. I don't understand why garbage and debris surround their homes.  I can only guess that it is like being at the bottom of a well, the way out seems impossible, and one eventually gives up, which is reflected in their surroundings.  I am sure there are a multitude of studies and reports about this phenomenon, but actually seeing it makes it become real and personal.  Yet, amid this, I also observed a strong pride and kinship not evident in the general American public

There is also beauty to behold, however.  One just has to look beyond to see it....perhaps that has been the problem all along.

Graham Mountain

75 miles