It's always a process to pack up my things and stuff them into my tiny bike bags just so. There is barely any room, so it takes some serious origami and elbow grease. I finally got this accomplished and set out to check out the nearby cliff dwellings, named Montezuma Castle.
Montezuma Castle didn't have anything to do with the Aztecs, but were the apartments of some people who lived there around 1200AD. They have been extensively looted but there is an interpretive center to tell what these people did. There was this mournful flute music being played. I wondered to myself how anyone knew what kind of music these people played. I figured it was a recording, but I turned a corner and saw that it was being played by a rotund man with a recorder. He took a break for awhile and then started up with a few dramatic notes that sounded like the beginning of John Williams' Star Wars theme. I was really excited for a moment but then he settled back into a sad, slow minor key melody. So close...
After having had my fill of flute music and cliff dwellings, I pedaled on to Cottonwood. The road was busy but it had a shoulder. It was damn hot, so I kept sucking water and cranking away. At one point I crested a hill and saw a bicyclist standing on the shoulder. I pulled up alongside him and asked if everything was OK. He said he was fine... his name was Tim and he had just come out of the nearby desert where he had been camping out. We ended up cruising together for a few miles on our way into town.
I found a bike shop and got some air in my rear shock, then headed over to the state park to find a campsite. The lady at the kiosk said it was $25 for a tent site. That was kind of steep, I thought. "May I go have a look at the site first?", I asked. It was pretty important that there was some shade. She said no, because a bicyclist might just decide to ride around and enjoy the park without paying. If I were in a car, she said, I would be more trustworthy. I was incredulous but kept my cool. I offered to leave my phone with her as collateral but she relented.
The tent sites turned out to be pretty miserable. No shade, just forlorn windswept asphalt. The RV sites were nicer, but they were $35/night, which is quite a bit when you're just looking for a patch of grass. So I pedaled back out of there and back into town.
Then I inquired at an RV park if I could pitch a tent, but the proprietor said no. I think he thought I was a vagrant. Finally, I paid for a room at a local mom and pop motel which turned out to be very nice. I felt kind of dumb having carried all of my camping gear around and not using it. However, the shower was delightful and I slept well.
