Day 8: Wickenburg, AZ to Phoenix, AZ

54 Miles: Bike Stolen In Phoenix; Very Enjoyable Ride Comes To Screeching Halt - February 8, 2008

"That kind of bike with saddlebags would be perfect for transporting drugs." "That kind of bike with saddlebags would be perfect for transporting drugs." Considering my sudden turn of bad fortune, I somehow realized the police officer's statement would be considered funny as this story would be told in the future. He even posed beside his vehicle for my camera! :) In all truthfulness, I was not very alarmed when the reality of my stolen bike set in. Like I said, in Blythe, California, God communicated in no uncertain terms that He was in the control of my journey, and it was quite a relief to choose not to worry about it. The God I personally know relishes in opportunities where He can show how awesome He is - and how He can come through in the most dire situations. I had an almost childlike chuckle in my spirit when I first noticed the bicycle was gone. Alright Lord, what now? Is the trip over? Would I get another bike? Just Looking For Lunch And Rest Before Heading To The East Side Of Phoenix ... The gradual descent on Highway 60 from Wickenburg made the morning very enjoyable from the start. I stopped a few times to photograph beautiful saguaro areas and was feeling so content and positive about the day. In north Phoenix, I neared 50 miles of riding and while I felt strong, it was clearly time to rest. My body was tired and it manifested itself in an aggravated attitude. It was obvious I need to get off the bike soon. I rode a few more miles with no success of finding a suitable restaurant that appeared safe to lock my bike. On 19th Avenue heading south, I spotted a Taco Bell and stopped for lunch. I locked the bike on a metal hand rail and sat inside with my view facing the bike outside. I would spend almost an hour there. "Where are you?" asked Phil in a sudden text message, who happened to be friend in Phoenix. "Taco Bell on Dunlap & 19th Ave." I wrote back, as I was finishing eating, "Taking a break. Will get to the eastern side of city by late afternoon." "Oh my gosh! That's where I eat on my lunch on workdays!" replied Phil. What an extraordinary coincedence that in this large sprawling city of 2.5 million people, that I would eat at the very place that my friend Phil regularly visits on his lunch break. Phil's workplace was less than one mile away, and if I had showed up one hour later, I would have surprisingly seen him in person! "My lunch break is in an hour, can you stay for awhile?" he added. It would have been great to see Phil, I thought, but waiting another 45 minutes would be difficult. The adreniline in my body was pushing me to get going again - it's just a bicycling thing that only the most devout understand. I was probably going to meet Phil later in the evening anyway, as my plan was to settle in Mesa or Apache Junction and meet with Jodi for dinner and Phil at some point later in the evening. So after spending about an hour at the Taco Bell, largely watching my bike locked up minus the one bathroom visit I made, I got back on the bike and began to ride out. Oh, there's a CVS next door! I hadn't shaved in seven days since San Diego and had been meaning to buy razors and shaving cream - something I forgot to bring along. I didn't want to look like a dirt bag in front of Jodi after all. I locked the bike on a sign post and spent five minutes buying a small tube of shaving cream, some razors and candy. I was standing outside with my bike and ready to peddle again. Now I studied my map of Phoenix during lunch and decided to take 19th Avenue South, then Glendale east, which turns into Lincoln and reaches Scotsdale Road. I'd then go south and east more distance before settling somewhere. Wait! One last bathroom run! You never know, I thought. I left the bicycle tied up in front of the CVS and walked about 500 feet to the Taco Bell. It was a very short bathroom visit, taking maybe 3-5 minutes at most. When I walked back outside towards the CVS, the bike was gone. "Hold on. You won't believe this. The bike was stolen! Not joking. Come on over to Taco Bell, I'll be here." I texted Phil.

	Wickenburg To Phoenix The downhill from Wickenburg to Phoenix on Highway 60 was well-appreciated. Physical ease at decent speeds almost always translates into improved mental and emotional status. :) Adjacent photos: Two nice scenes between Wickenburg and the Phoenix metropolitan area.
	I did something I've never quite done before, that who knows, may have been divinely inspired considering latter events. I stopped right on the shoulder of the highway, put the camera on a guard rail post, and snapped a picture of myself with my shiny red Giant OCR3 bike of five years using the timer. It was a gratifying morning of riding!
	I traveled on Bell Road upon reaching Phoenix. The plan was to avoid extremely urban or congested areas and keep things simple. Thus, my itinerary was to go east on Bell Road all the way to Scotsdale Road, where I'd travel south towards Highway 60. I'd then proceed east along a main road adjacent to Highway 60 and stop somewhere in Mesa or Apache Junction. I pulled over and rested underneath some large palm trees and looked over at Bell Road. I was giddy way beyond the norm - I sent a crazy religious text message to Jae that read something like, "Today's ride has been wonderful. Walk in his joy today and be mindful of his love!"
Photos Above: Entering into Phoenix city limits and the easterly view of Bell Road at the sign. As I crossed under Highway 101 (a beltway) further down the road, I got a flat tire (#2 out of 11) and contently changed the tube in a parking lot of an International House of Pancakes.	I made two decisions that in retrospect, would play a role in how things played out. 1) I decided to bypass my plan to visit a Giant dealer bicycle shop to have a proper derailer installed on my bike. After thinking more about it, I had another derailer surprisingly snap off this red bike last summer (See: June 2007 Ride), leading me to conclude that maybe the frame of the bike had problems. With two derailers broken in less than nine months, who was to say a third derailer of the same brand wouldn't similarly snap off again? I passed on spending the money and stuck with Greg's generic derailer, which looked like it was working just fine. 2) There was not enough shoulder on Bell Road and I was constantly and legitimately worried about driving over areas of sand and debris at traffic lights, the very type of spot where I had gotten my flat tire. (Read adjacent report) I needed to find an alternative route that had more relaxed traffic. This had me zigzagging down perpendicular streets such as Thunderbird, Greenway and numerical roads traveling north to south. Two semi-conclusive comments with one gain and one loss: a) I saved some money because my bike was stolen a few hours later, and b) The route brought me in an area to rest that was not the greatest; If I had stayed on Bell Road I would have likely been in a safer area.
	The view of the Phoenix Mountains from two points on 19th Avenue in Phoenix. Shaw Butte (alt. 2,149 feet) is the highest point among this small range. The neighborhoods and storefronts became less and less "safe-looking" and attractive as I traveled south. I would stop for lunch at the Taco Bell at 19th Avenue and Dunlap.
	One hour later, I would meet Sgt. Allen who would take down my police report. Special thanks for his courtesy and professionalism!
Above: Phil Ladden, a friend for eight years in Colorado who recently moved to Phoenix, did show up for his lunch break and greatly assisted me. As he drove in his truck, he shared his shock from the incident and recounted many stories illustrating the increased problem of crime in the Phoenix area. Sadly, he was not surprised at all that my bike was stolen in that vicinity. The fact that I happened to have lunch at the Taco Bell that he frequently visits in a massive sprawling city of 2.5 million people was something we both marveled at. Neither Phil or I believe it was a coincedence.	All I had on me was my clothing (my primary cycling gear and long pants), my wallet, cellular phone and camera. Everything else was gone, although admittedly they were mainly non-valuable and replacable items. Phil dropped me off at a Walmart at Bell Road and 19th Avenue and he would visit me late at night after his workday. I resupplied myself with some basics: Another Phoenix Cardinals t-shirt (with a very similar design as the old one!), shorts, sandles and hygiene supplies. It always felt a little frustrating not having a vehicle in a world dominated by cars and trucks, but without my bicycle, it felt even worse. I would now have to walk to the nearest motel, which fortunately was only one mile west on Bell Road. I really did have supernatural peace regarding my stolen bike, but the annoying inconveniences would begin to weigh on me. I was sweaty, tired and damnit, I just want to get a room and take a shower. As I walked on the sidewalk with countless cars whizzing by me at fast speeds, I felt a distinct sense of pity for myself: I felt like one of the many transients common to the area as I carried all of my clothing and supplies in a large bag. "I am not a scary homeless person!" I shouted in my spirit. Much pride fueled my sentiment, and the irrational fear that the front desk person at the motel would deny me a room because I looked like a vagrant lingered until I actually got my room.
	Much gratitude is also due to Jodi in Casa Grande. We originally planned to meet at my intended destination on the eastern side of Phoenix's suburbs. Instead, I was stuck in north Phoenix and was at the will of her to drive much further to see me, something she generously did without hesitation. We had a great dinner at Old Chicacgo and went to a Dunkin' Donuts where I had an extra large coconut coffee. :) Dunkin' Donuts coffee rocks the house! (Sadly, the nearest Dunkin' Donuts from my home in Colorado is over 105 miles away!) At this point, I realized I would be buying a new bike the next day and needed other supplies: Warm clothing (gloves, hat, second & third layers), a battery charger for my phone, a first aid kit, belt and other items. Jodi took me to one more destination, a Walmart, and that's when my body hit a wall. Commonly, at about 7 p.m. after a day of riding, my body would suddenly shut down in exhaustion with me being fairly useless for any activity besides laying down on a bed and sleeping. That's what happened. It was urgent that I obtain a phone charger though, but the only type inside was the bulky vehicle charger kind with an extension cord. I snapped and refused to buy it. "Thanks a lot Walmart!" I practically shouted in frustration. Somehow I managed to buy a belt for my shorts, because I was losing weight rapidly and needed it to keep my shorts up. Ultimately though, I just wanted to get out there and didn't care about anything. I hate shopping and I'll get all the crap I need tomorrow!