I went to the Eastside Cannery hotel for sleep and a shower as ordered by the ‘rents. I was barely able to wait for sleep while washing the stink off. Correction: I was staying at the Eastside Cannery hotel and casino. In the evening, after my nap, I went down there because I had been given gambling vouchers with the room key. It is one of the few times that you have the odds on the casino and I wasn’t going to waste the chance. I ended up winning from the vouchers and then won more playing poker and so when I woke up the next morning still knackered I decided I could afford another night. That happened three more times and even after losing $140 on the last day I was up $520 from my stay. I had also qualified for a poker tournament a week later with 15 other players, no buy in and a pot of $2000. I was trapped, I was winning now and suddenly had things to stay for – I knew I had to leave, I really had to leave, and so I left.
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The last cycling I had done was when I got heat stroke and even though I had long since recovered, I was still not looking forward to the ride. In truth I was scared of the desert.
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After a short ride I got to Boulder City, where gambling is prohibited and the atmosphere is a hundred times nicer because of it. Then I went over the Hoover Dam, crossing at about 10am, with the temperature 82f (28c) and rising. Stopping by some construction workers on the climb out from the damn they asked where I was going and I said ‘down to Kingman’ and they said ‘you mean up to Kingman’ and it was a bad moment. I found the liter of vodka I still had from the night Simon bought it, and the half bottle of Kahlua and gave them to one of the workers. It was a really low moment.
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The desert kicked my arse. I am rubbish in heat and there is no shade. I had plenty of water (bath temperature) but there was no escape from the sun. I entered Arizona, ‘the desert state’ (no, there was no jelly and ice cream on arrival, I made the same mistake). I rode straight through the midday heat because this was kind of a test. I survived it but can’t say that I enjoyed it at all. I kept riding and the first time I enjoyed the ride was a few minutes before sunset. I arrived in Kingman that night after 80 miles and I had already decided that I was defeated. It was time to change transport means and from Kingman I would take a train.
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The desert heat isn’t the only reason for my change of plans. I am now low on money. I found that there is no longer a ferry around the Darien Gap. Mexico is becoming increasingly sketchy. My bike needs a fair bit of attention. And so on. Each one of these excuses is surmountable – mostly it’s about the heat. It is now a mere 90 degrees (33C) but is getting hotter quickly and will soon be up to 120 degrees (50C). Going south isn’t going to help much. All in all, I’m not enjoying the heat, it is taking the pleasure out of riding. So I decided to take a train out to the east coast – Miami, Florida.
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In the morning I found that I wasn’t allowed to put my bike on the train in Kingman and would have to go to Flagstaff instead. Flagstaff is 140 miles east of Kingman, mostly on an interstate. I just couldn’t face the ride having decided to take the train and so I went to the highway and stuck out my thumb.
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I was feeling cheerful, excited about something new and within 5 minutes a flatbed had pulled over to pick me up. We threw my bike in the back and got going. My driver was Mr. Haws, though I called him Billy. He took me all the way to Flagstaff and I just kept looking out the window relieved that I wasn’t out there on a bike. In Flagstaff he dropped me at the station to sort out my ticket and then came back to take me out to dinner with him and his daughter. Am I really leaving this place?
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Well, yes, on Saturday morning at 6am. My train goes all the way up to Chicago, then over to Washington DC, then south to Florida. It will take about 5 days. It is sad to throw away the plans I had and now I know how Tom felt in Seattle. Still, I am excited about the train and the change of location. From Florida I don’t yet know, that’s the fun of it.