Tour de Palm Springs 2026: Misadventures, Miles, and a Whole Lot of Dirt

Things were rolling along just fine… until they weren’t. We were on our way, minding our own business, when my phone buzzed with one of those “Are you sitting down?” kinds of texts. It was Bank of America asking if I had just made a $90 purchase in Dubai.

Dubai.
A place I have never been, never shopped from, and certainly wasn’t visiting in the middle of this trip.

So of course, it wasn’t me. Which meant my debit card had to be shut down immediately. And just like that, all the little everyday things — food, gas, snacks — suddenly had to go on my credit card instead of my bank account. Not the end of the world, but definitely a pain in the backside.

The silver lining? All the hotels and the Airbnb were already paid for. And Bank of America’s digital wallet still worked, so as long as a place accepted tap‑to‑pay, I was good. It turned the whole trip into a scavenger hunt: Can I buy food here? Can I get gas here? Will this machine beep at me or bless me?

But honestly, I don’t stay down for long. I’m a pretty happy person by default — it takes a lot to really rattle me — so I just kept leaning into the bright side. The trip was still happening, the company was good, and the hiccup became just another story to tell later.

The Airbnb That Spoiled Us

Donna and I lucked out with an Airbnb that felt like we’d somehow cheated the system. It cost about the same as the hotels in the area, but it was nicer, quieter, and — best of all — one block from the start line, finish line, and the entire bike expo.

One block.

We parked the car on Friday and didn’t touch it again until Sunday morning. No traffic. No parking drama. No hauling bikes across town. Just step outside and boom — you’re at the event. It was glorious.

Donna signed up for the 101‑mile route, and I chose the 53. We didn’t ride together — we each have our own pace and our own ride style — but it was comforting knowing we were out there on the same course, doing our thing.

Tour de Palm Springs: The Ride That Tried to Break Me

Of course, I started the day already fighting a cold. Not the dramatic, bedridden kind — just the annoying, energy‑sapping, “why now?” kind. But I wasn’t about to skip the ride. I’d trained, I’d traveled, and I was determined to get those miles in.

The Flat Tire Saga

About halfway through, I felt that unmistakable wobble:
Flat. Tire.

I pulled over and flipped the bike, ready to get to work — except the bolts on my rear wheel wouldn’t budge. The mechanic who’d replaced my brake pads before the trip had apparently decided to torque them down with the strength of a thousand suns.

I tried. I strained. I muttered a few choice words.

Nothing.

Finally, a guy riding by saw me struggling and stopped. He put some muscle into it and popped those nuts loose like it was nothing. I thanked him, told him I could take it from there, and he rolled on.

That’s when the real fun began.

It was getting hot — the kind of desert heat that sneaks up on you — so off came my fleece‑lined arm warmers. I had to sit right down in the dirt to wrestle the tire off, and because I’d oiled my chain the night before, everything I touched turned into a perfect storm of grease + dust + sweat. My hands were a mess. My clothes were a mess. My patience was… holding on.

And there was no shade. Not a tree, not a signpost, not even a tall rider casting a helpful shadow.

Just me, the sun, and a stubborn tire tube.

The Lightbulb Moment

Once I finally got the new tube in and the wheel back on, I had a sudden realization:

“Oh crap…I forgot my keys, so I can’t swap my battery.”

I usually get about 50 miles per charge, but between the headwinds and the rolling hills, I knew I’d be cutting it close. The 57‑mile route might be doable — but anything longer would’ve been a gamble.

So that settled it. No extra miles. No stretching the day. Just finish, enjoy the ride, and save the battery stress for another time. I ended up riding 53 miles as I crossed the finish.

Despite everything — the cold, the flat, the heat, the grease, the dirt — I still finished. And honestly? I was proud of that. It wasn’t the smoothest ride I’ve ever done, but it was one of the most memorable.

The Journey Home: Family, Football, and the Long Drive North

After the ride, we packed up the car and started the trek home. The highlight of the return trip was visiting my aunt and uncle, something I’d been looking forward to the entire drive. It had been too long since I’d seen them, and the visit was exactly what I needed — warm, grounding, full of easy conversation and familiar faces. The kind of stop that reminds you why road trips are worth the miles.

We left their place with snacks, hugs, and that cozy feeling you only get from being around people who’ve known you forever.

The rest of the drive was spent listening to Super Bowl 60 on the radio — not watching, not streaming, just old‑school radio play‑by‑play. There was something nostalgic about it, like being a kid again when games lived in your imagination instead of on a screen. It made the miles pass quickly, even as the weather got colder the farther north we drove. Our Seahawks won and we were jubilant!

By the time we reached home, the whole trip — the Dubai charge, the cold, the flat, the dirt, the grease, the battery realization, the family visit, the Super Bowl drifting through the speakers — had already settled into that familiar place where misadventures turn into stories.

Looking Ahead

Now that I’m home, I’m already shifting into planning mode for the year ahead. It’s my favorite winter ritual — opening my spreadsheet and mapping out:

• rides I want to do
• trips I hope to take
• volunteer shifts
• creative projects
• and all the little things that make life feel full

I’m heading into retirement soon, which means I’ll be doing all this adventuring on a budget — but that’s never stopped me before. I’ve been to 30 countries on 5 continents, and I’m not done yet. There are still so many places to explore, so many roads to ride, so many stories waiting to happen.

If this trip taught me anything, it’s that even when things go sideways — fraudulent Dubai charges, flats, colds, lost keys, desert heat, and greasy hands — I can still find the joy in the journey.

And that’s exactly how I plan to approach the year ahead.