^{Visiting in Mesa, and the trip home}

We had a decision to make, at this point, concerning the rest of the trip.

Already, at this low altitude (1,200 feet), the temperature had been at the limit of what I can cycle (94 degrees), and it was forecast to get to 97 degrees. That meant we wouldn't be able to cycle full days, but would need to shelter in the shade, probably as soon as mid-afternoon.

Because of the extra days we had taken (both voluntarily, and involuntarily), we would need to average about 60 miles per day to make it to the Mexican border before my daughters arrived to pick us up.

Most likely, we would end up about 50 miles short of our goal. Given that, we decided to end the trip here, and come back to finish it at a cooler time of year – perhaps November.

So this was the end of the bicycle trip. Although we didn't make it to Mexico, we had done the most difficult part of it. The final 180 miles should be relatively easy, climbing only about 1,500 feet, gradually over a long distance.

From the motel, we cycled west, looking for a place to eat. We passed a lot of what used to be restaurants where we would have liked to eat, but they were all closed. Apparently the recession hit this area very hard.

We finally stopped at a grocery store, hoping to eat at its deli.

This was an interesting experience, in that it was the first time since I was in Norway, decades ago, that I had a language problem, not being able to speak Spanish.

The food looked interesting, different, and good, so I persisted, finally managing to communicate sufficiently to get the food we both wanted, which was very good.

From there, we cycled east a long way, to the street we needed to turn north on. There, to our delight (given the heat already in the morning), was a Baskin Robbins ice-cream store. Of course, we stopped in to enjoy a cool treat, then cycled north to the Commemorative Air Force Museum.

We cabled up our bicycles, and spent the entire afternoon there, enjoying the sights and displays. I never imagined that I would be able to walk/crawl through a B-17 world-war-II bomber, but it happened here.

A P-51 Mustang fighter-plane

Instrument panel of the P-51

Color-coordinated – Malcolm with another P-51

Instrument panel of a B-17

A B-17 bomber, restored to WW-II vintage

B-25 WW-II Bomber, with nose-art

B-17 Nose-Art

P-51 Fighter-plane

P-51, with WW-I Fokker-DVIII fighter-plane, above and behind

Given how hot it was cycling back to the motel in the late afternoon, we were glad we had ended the trip.

The next day, we visited with Gary, who demonstrated the process he goes through in creating his web-comic, and had a great conversation with him and his wife.

That evening, as my daughters drew nearer, traveling by car, we talked them in (by cell-phone), and they arrived at about 1:00 AM (but we had already reserved the room for them).

We all slept fairly late the next morning, then packed the bicycles, and left for home. Given the distance, we planned to stay overnight at Page.

As a surprise to my son, we stopped at Grand Canyon to visit briefly with him, and then resumed our trip home.

The Grand Canyon, with the last few rays of sunlight hitting the highest pinnacles

We stayed in Page, AZ, in a motel, then made the rest of the trip back to Salt Lake City the next day.

It was a fitting end of our great adventure for 2011, the most challenging of our bicycle trips so far.

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