​Today is predicted to be even hotter than yesterday.  The extreme heat warnings and record breaking highs stretch across the entire zone we are biking.  It makes last night's sleep in an A/C-filled room feel restorative and a form of recovery.  The alarm for 2:30 starts too early.  My body wants entirely to lay in the hotel bed.  But we choose to move, need to move.  The heat is too hard and too intense to excuse the night from moving our legs.  This extreme heat warning keeps getting extended in time and expanded in region so that it seems to sit wide and full of fuming-brooding over the entirety of southern California.  We also need to descend back down into the heart of Mojave Desert by going to 1300 feet today before climbing back up to 4300 ft.  Janna and I aimed to be through that low section before any part of the midday heat was right on us.

​The night is long yet short.  The Motel 6 we found, the one with bars over the windows and people milling around, really came to life shortly after we turned off our lights.  First began the yelling outside.  It seems a crowd had congregated in this common spot known to all.  People starting banging on our window.  Multiple times the door handle jiggled and some strong pushing followed on the locked door.  I absolutely did not sleep.  This was coupled with the fact that the Motel 6 turned off A/C to all rooms beginning at 11 pm.  With the air off, and the nighttime temperature outside still over 100 degrees, the room began to cook.

Today, we planned a big exodus out of the range of Bernadino Mountains and out towards the true Mojave Desert all low with scrub and Joshua trees.  A significant and widespread newscast warning had been blanketed across southern California and all the way up the coast warning of an "Extreme Heat Warning" where temperatures were to spike well above 100 degrees and that outdoor activities should be curtailed.  Our plan was to bike all the way to Palmdale today, stay in a hotel with AC, then get up tomorrow in the middle of the night to make our large Mojave Desert crossing.  But that entailed us covering over 80 miles, 7,000+ feet of gain, and nearly 13,000 feet of loss today.  This, we knew, would be a big day and push us physically.  Although the heat warning really started tomorrow, we were already in 100+ degree F temperatures.  I could feel it in the blood of my veins with thirst and balance of electrolytes constantly on my brain.  Table Mountain provided a cool and perfect night's sleep on high to prepare us for a 4 am wake-up to bike almost the entire Angeles Crest.

​Janna and I woke up to the heat of the desert as the Sun hit our tarp.  Even in the early hour, it was blazing down hard and threatened a scorching day.  Janna hadn't slept well, understandably, given the uncertainties about whether we'd be able to get a chain today with Don and Karen's help.  They told us last night that they wouldn't be over until around 9:30 because they needed to pack up their RV, and we needed to make sure the bike shop in Hesperia was open.  Thus, Janna and I leisurely, though anxiously, tore down camp until Don and Karen showed up.  We didn't want to leave our gear unattended, so it was decided that Janna would ride down with them to Hesperia herself while I stayed behind to clean gear and be a watchdog over it.

​Janna and I slept-in due to the bed and cabin situation.  We felt comfortable leaving later in the morning because we were going to remain relatively high up in the San Bernadino Mountains.  We ate breakfast leftovers before cleaning the cabin followed by packing up the bikes.  That put us outside on the front driveway by 9 am.  We locked the place and started off with sore butts towards the north shores of Big Bear Lake.  We had spent all of the past two days getting groceries and riding along the south shore.  The north shore was arguably less developed, had more National Forest abutting the lake, and way less vehicular traffic.  The morning was easy cruising through small cabin hamlets along the lake coupled with frequent stops to gaze out on sage colliding with deep blue water.  The west side of Big Bear Lake had lots of boats and beaches to swim and play.  It looked inviting and gorgeous underneath the blazing summer sun.  Cars were parked end-to-end along any pullouts as recreators made their ways to the waves.

Today was a welcome zero day, just a few days into the trip, but at a crucial point we had previously planned for; we wanted recovery with unseasoned legs and a previous-day's big climb.  Janna and I absolutely slept-in late.  After waking up, we walked down the street from the cabin in the day's already garnering warmth to get some breakfast at a local restaurant.  While there, we saw two PCT-hikers who I chatted with about their experiences and plans moving forward.  Afterwards, we stopped by a local pie restaurant for the best chocolate cream pie I have ever eaten.

​After a fitful night's sleep in Banning, we got up early knowing that today was going to be a crux ride. Since beginning the tour, we had cast nervous eyes ahead to Big Bear knowing that we had over 8,000 feet of gain to do in a day.  I slept terribly thanks for uncertainties about my brake and whether it would perform well on the rest of the route (or at least until I found a better caliper).  The morning was bright, sun smack pumping heat.  It was chill enough for light wind jackets but we knew that a 90+ degree day lay ahead down here.  The roads were clear of vehicles at 6 am as Janna and I wound through the streets of Banning that I had ridden the day before to get to the bike shop.  And then we passed the bike shop with a laugh and continued on into Beaumont.

​Janna and I started our morning in Idyllwild late and leisurely.  We only had 30 miles planned out today and only a couple of thousand feet of gain.  The Sierra Cascades would take us up and over, then down the San Jacinto range to Banning, CA right along the I-10 as it crosses a vein of the low Mohave Desert.  We had originally planned on camping at Bogart County Park just west and north of town, outside of Beaumont.  However, the campground and park had closed to tent campers due to COVID, and all reservations were cancelled.  All other camping in the area was either closed (due to COVID) or restricted to RV park usage.  I had searched fruitlessly and settled on the fact that we were going to need to book a hotel room in the area; this was also encouraged by the major vein of urban desert that was due to be over 100 degrees.

​Rain pattered our campsite throughout the night as a gentle pour from the inland-stretching marine layer.  We slept well.  Morning was subsequently overcast and cool.  A thick stew of clouds smeared atmospheric-opaquicity over Mt. Palomar rising about the campground.  Mixes of blue sky wafting here and there suggested it wouldn't last long.  We were in the desert for sure, but knew that we needed to descend even lower in elevation today before an all-day climb up into the cool pines of Idyllwild.  The marine layer was affording us well-tempered temps we knew to take advantage of.  Quickly, Janna and I packed up camp, ate breakfast, and pushed out onto the highway edge.

It was a truly relaxing night on top of Mount Laguna.  The start of the night left me sweating from the heat of the day, but that quickly dissipated in the early hours of the morning to coolness.  In fact, there was a chill in the air when we woke up the next morning.  We packed up camp from the quiet and empty campground before pushing out down to the Laguna Mountain Lodge and Trading Post.  Unfortunately, it was closed and not due to open for another hour or two; we had miles to go so we took a few pictures and continued up a slight incline in the trees.  The road curved and suddenly, we were heading down the north/opposite side of Mount Laguna.  Pines quickly faded to oaks which fell away in an old burn scar now filled with manzanita.  Before us, expansive views down to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park opened up at every curve in the road.  We stopped again and again to gaze down at the legendary desert.  It seemed such a contrast to be up here in the green manzanita flanks of a mountain with wind jackets on and high cloud cover ahead while distant bleached desert peaks and a venerable roasting oven of Anza-Borrego Mojave desert lay below us.

The four of us slept hard given the recent end of the school year.  We woke up early and got going in the car by 5 am.  Matt and Colleen were driving our vehicle since we had the bike rack on the back with all of our gear.  We skirted the streets of El Cajon out towards the rural countryside and into the rocky interior of the Cleveland National Forest.  Ranchlands and farms dotted mountainsides amid the chaparral and shrouded mist of marine layer permeating the inland.

​The school year ended after an extension to June given the postponed start due to COVID-19.  And with it came the close on my first year working and living at the Grand Canyon.  It felt a little off-kiltering to realize the year had come-and-gone all while COVID-19 continued to press down on the world sizably.  With summer break nearing, Janna and I fleshed out our adventure plans.  We settled on the Sierra Cascades Bicycling Route by the Adventure Cycling Association.  The route is a road/pavement-based tour that acts as the bicycle equivalent of the Pacific Crest Trail.  It starts in the mountains along the US/Mexico Border and continues across the crest of the western-coast states all the way to Canada.  We had eyed the route several years ago when deciding our first tour and wisely thought it too difficult to start with.  Our original plans for this summer were to bike the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route.  However, an injury I sustained in February resulted in medical advice to avoid jostling rock/dirt surface for pavement.