Day 8: March 12, Hope to Wickenburg
This day was going to be a shorter one (by that I mean only 70 miles, who have we become?) so we took our first slow morning. We didn’t wake up to an alarm, we luxuriously lounged in our tent (our perspectives have become skewed) – well actually, Madeleine’s air matress has developed a not-very-slow leak, so she luxuriated on the ground.
The day of riding wasn’t too challenging, except for the noticeable headwind which has become our regrettable and constant companion. The highlight of the day was lunch at a place called Coyote Flats, which is the only place besides a gas station to eat in 50 miles. We figured it would be another exceptional diner experience, which in some ways I guess it was. We walked in and found several tables of men clad in cowboy hats, boots with spurs and mustaches, and got ourselves a booth. I ordered coffee, water and an orange juice, the last of which came in a hilariously portioned cup.
Continuing our discovery of the food desert that exists in this area, we both did our best with menu options but wound up with greasy sandwiches, neither of which were quite what we ordered. Ah well, we were hungry.
We met a few more characters along the route, a group of 4 older guys who had found each other and become a unit. We asked if they were headed to the same RV Park / Campground as we were, and they laughed and said “well we haven’t been doing much camping”. About 70 miles later we found Wickenburg, a town of about 6,500 that was the most built up town we had seen in days. It had a big grocery store, a little historic downtown area, a couple bars and a few restaurants. The options were exciting so we checked into our RV Park, put on real people clothes (i.e. not head-to-toe spandex), and got ourselves a beer and some Mexican food. It was all very exciting.