Guitar, Drinks and Sunset
Avoiding cold, wintery roads has been a priority on this trip… and we missed it by one day.
We ended up lingering in St. George, Utah while waiting for our bikes to arrive at the local shop. Thankfully they showed up Tuesday and were ready by Wednesday morning. With a snowstorm on the way, we made the call to leave town early and spend a couple of nights at my mom’s house.
Somewhere along that drive we got one of those calls you don’t expect to ever get — the Medford Police Department had recovered Balin’s stolen bike. If someone could meet an officer at Dick’s Sporting Goods in 20 minutes, they’d release it. Otherwise, Balin would need to pick it up in person in Medford.
Obie just happened to be two minutes away.
And just like that, the bike that had been gone… wasn’t.
Arriving at my mom’s house felt like pulling into an oasis — water, laundry, good food, and the kind of company that lets you exhale all the way down to your toes. We had no agenda and nowhere to be. We sprawled out on carpeted floors, sat by the little water feature in the backyard, and soaked in the kind of sunshine you can feel working on you.
My mom turned 80 this year, and if anything, she seems more alive than ever. Between her friendships, her garden, and the occasional round of golf, she’s built a life that keeps her engaged and outward-facing. I’m more convinced than ever that connection and purpose are what keep us young.
Later in the week we met up with our niece Sophie in Tempe and took her and her boyfriend out for Thai food near campus. She gave us a tour of her new downtown apartment — she’s settled in and very much living her own life now, which is both wonderful and slightly surreal.
From there we picked up the trailer in Sun City West and made the short drive to Cave Creek Regional Park, arriving just in time for sunset. We’ve developed a bit of a ritual on this trip — unhook the trailer, connect the utilities, pour a drink, and watch the sun go down. We’ve done it in nearly every place we’ve landed so far, and it’s quickly becoming one of our favorite rhythms.
Saturday brought our first mountain bike ride of the trip… almost. A pinched cable in Balin’s seat dropper had his saddle moving up and down at random, which made for a quick return to the bike shop and a ten-minute fix. Back in business.
One of the unexpected gifts of the weekend was running into our Liberty Lake friends, the Rothleys, who happened to be road-tripping through Phoenix to watch their daughter play sand volleyball. They landed in the campsite next to ours, which gave us time for a hike, breakfast, and some unhurried catching up.
Sunday we hiked with our longtime friends Anna and Dana DeVito, then joined the Coffmans for dinner that evening. Eighteen years into these friendships, and they continue to deepen — the kind of relationships where you’re known, not just caught up with.
By Tuesday it was time for a little reset. Balin ran errands while I reorganized the trailer — small spaces get crowded quickly, and ours was no exception. That evening we headed to Brown’s Ranch in North Scottsdale for a golden-hour ride. Nothing malfunctioned, nothing pinched, nothing squeaked — just miles of flowy trail and glowing desert light.
It reminded us exactly why we love mountain biking.
Today brought an eight-hour drive through Tucson to Las Cruces, New Mexico — windy, wild, and worth it. We rolled in about an hour before sunset, just enough time to settle in and keep the ritual alive.
Over the next couple of days we’re hoping to get out on the trails and into the mountains here near Hatch and Las Cruces — which, as you know, is very much our happy place.
Stay tuned.
Here’s a video from our last week:
https://youtube.com/shorts/ptt93lLdurA?feature=shared
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