Day 4 Cottonwood AZ (103 miles, 8633 feet)

Before I begin, I found out this morning that there had been another trip to the hospital last night.  Another rider was severely dehydrated and needed an IV.  Three days of riding; three trips to the hospital.  Could we keep it up?

We spent the night in Wickenburg, AZ, which is a quaint, touristy cowboy town. It was nice and warm last night, but we had been warned that would change.  I checked the weather this morning and the temp for Wickenburg was 60 degrees.  The temp for our arrival town of Cottonwood was 57 degrees.  Being an actuary, I decided that the average temp for today's ride would be 58.5 degrees.  I could not have been more wrong.

I got my usual start, but this time with Scott - a rider from North Carolina.  By the time we got out of town, the temps were already dropping.  Fortunately, we were both wearing both leg and arm warmers.  We took turns pulling into a headwind - a nice pace, but we weren't going to kill ourselves this early on such a hard day.  Shortly out of town, you see the mountains in the distance. 

The first climb is grueling.  It goes on for hours at about a 6% - 7% grade and speed drops to single digits.  Even though he has a faster pace, Scott stays with me.  His mantra is "no riding in the van".  Once you hit the climbing, pacelines lose their advantage.  And that was clearly evident as the strong riders passed us - but this time, one by one instead of one massive group.  Everyone is fighting their own personal battle against the mountain.

About half way up, it starts to drizzle.  The desert around these parts is so dry, you have a hard time imaging that they get any rain.  By the time we reach the top, the temps have really fallen and it is sleeting.  The van is parked at the summit, and everyone grabs the clothes they put in the clothes bin for such an occassion.  For me, it is just a Gortex rain jacket.  Then we begin a crazy descent into the high mountain plains and meadows.  I love the descents.  It is the only reason to climb.  It is freezing cold, I'm soaking wet, sleet is pelting against my face and flying down the mountain, hitting speeds of up to 40 mph.  On tires as wide as a crayon. It is an unbelievable feeling that makes the climb worth the effort.

The fun comes to an end, and we begin our second climb of the day, this time heading up to the lunch SAG set up at a very small country store.  Temps have really fallen.  The SAG van is parked outside the store next to some picnic tables, but all of the riders are in the store trying to get warm.  As soon as I arrive, one of the very good riders collapses on the floor, suffering from hypothermia.  An ambulance is called and it is pretty scary for a while.  The good news is that a trip to the hospital is averted, and it is just a bundled trip in the van. 

At this point, team leader Mike opens up the luggage trailor and we all start to pull clothes out of our suitcases.  I grab wool socks, full fingered bike glothes, a Columbia vest, ear warmers and Gortex booties.  I do not have a helmet cover (to keep out the rain, wind and sleet) so Barbara and Mike fashion one out of a shopping bag.  No one wants to leave; this was the longest SAG I've seen this group take.  They usually want to grab some food, wolf it down and hit the road.  Finally riders start to take off one by one.  Scott and I leave as a pair.  As if on cue, it starts to snow. 

This second climb is just a tough as the first, but now we have to contend with the snow covered roads.  It is literally hour after hour of just turning the cranks and plowing up this moutain.  Gone are the cactus, replaced by pines.  The whole mountain is shrouded in fog.  I have my head down and just grinding out the pedals.  Scott shouts "Mike! Truck!"  I look up just in time to see a semi tractor trailor parked slightly off the road.  I run straight into it, face first and then bounce back.  My feet are still clipped into the pedals, so now I slowly fall to the side.  I have just run into a parked truck; good thing I was going only 6 mph.  Fortunately, there was no damage to the truck.  I made Scott take a picture of me (complete with shopping bag on my head).

The third and final climb of the day is the toughest.  I was traveling with Pacific Mike, Dick, Scott and Jim.  Again, no paceline advantage when climbing, but it was good to be in a group.  The descent into the small community of Jerome was ridiculous.  Fast, windy roads.  For the first time all day, we did not worry about cars passing us because they couldn't keep up with us.  My fingers were frozen, but it was an incredible descent.  We met up with several other riders at Haunted Burgers, which is the traditional stop on this day.  Afterwards, it was another plunge down to Cottonwood. 

This was another tough day with over 8 hours in the saddle.  Two days ago we were in 100 degree temps on the interstate, and today was 8600 feet of climbing in frigid temps.  Tomorrow is supposed to be very cold as well.  Not exactly what I was expecting.