“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide No escape from reality Open your eyes Look up to the skies and see I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I’m easy come, easy go A little high, little low Anyway the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me, to me” –Queen

 

“You never fail until you stop trying” –Albert Einstein

 

 

Time now to recap the last few days… Nevada is HUGE. God… way too big.

Space… a terrifying amount of space.

It kind of all blended together into one unending and incredibly exhausting day.

I originally thought when planning the trip it was a 70 mile desert crossing from Fallon – Austin, then 150 from Austin – Elko… well at the last minute google maps decided to add a few miles onto that… the true mileage was 110 from Fallon – Austin and 177 from Austin – Elko… Oh you know, just an extra 57 miles, no big deal! Uh well, actually… to make the mileage I basically just had to bike nonstop with every daylight hour I had. It sucked/ was awesome. Definitely beautiful though, Nevada has an undeniable elegance to all its scenery.

Nevada to me is a feminine place, with feathery clouds dancing around sharply pointed peaks. Graceful rock ridges are seen swooping and arcing in the background as you cross a mountain pass, horses gallop alongside the bike in the space between. This place is a sanctuary where civilization is nonexistent and will never be. And for good reason because it’s freezing, and hot at the same time, I’ll be sweating under my raingear as my hands freeze on the handlebars. It’s dry and wet at the same time, there’s no water to drink but it has no problem soaking you with dew or frost in the night. I would assume that the towns which do exist out here are some of the most remote, when you can travel 177 miles and not pass through even a semblance of a town. There are some gorgeous, secret ranches tucked into the hills with their own stream and all the animals they need to be self-sufficient.

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DAY SIX – 5/8   -59 miles Fallon – Cold Springs Station, my “work week” begins!

I left Fallon after a restful day at a hotel, but didn’t get out of town until around 11. Late start but I would still push today as far as possible. It was raining. I stood under a tree and sulked. Ugggh… this cold, harsh rain. Why am I doing this? I have so far to go it’s incredibly daunting to start. I just can’t wait for this section to be over. Well, here goes, hope I make it. I left the trees for the desert. This road is scenic highway 50, known as “The Loneliest Road.”

First order of business is to cross the Lahontan Valley. This is a valley so long and vast it competes or even surpasses Death Valley. This is along the California trail, and old wagon trains which came through here dreaded this stretch. People would die here. Known as the 40 mile desert, this was the most difficult area of the entire journey to California on this route. The bottom of the valley is a floodplain, there is no usable water. However, because of the rain, the floodplain was full of water, making for mesmerizing reflections of the surrounding mountains.

I was not mesmerized by it though, I was miserable. Oh well. Keep pedaling. If there’s only one thing I have to do in this life, its keep pedaling! One foot in front of the other, again. Cross the desert. I was starting to feel better as the rain cleared and I began climbing a mountain pass out of Lahontan. I sat for a break and in the sun it became unbelievably hot with the humidity. I was worried about my exposure, heat stroke or the like… I covered my legs in my rainfly to keep the sun off, baking under it. As soon as a cloud passed over I realized I was now huddled under my rainfly for warmth! Frigid. Am I dying from heat or am I shivering with cold? God this place is horrible!

Then I came to the top of Sand Springs Pass, and the decent was magical down the other side. The road carried on so far I couldn’t see the end of it across the vastness. There were mountains on both sides of this new valley I was in, they were majestically striped with colorful sediment much like Death Valley. It was more green though, more northern than Death Valley. Clouds danced across the scene and everything reflected gloriously in a lake bed when I arrived at the bottom. The lake bed didn’t even have water in it, just wet mud. It looked like water, it looked like frozen water. It reflected the mountains flawlessly. I was starting to feel better, because this was a great place to bike.

Then I crossed two more small mountain passes and went countless miles further into the distance. The scene changed over and over, always valleys, always ranges. Not too much traffic. I came to the small ghost town of Middlegate where some trailers are set up and not much more. But there are some trees by the spring.

Then I saw it, something I was waiting for because I have driven this loneliest road once before. One specific tree, I was searching for ONE TREE in all the desert. Fortunately I only saw about 5 trees in all the desert and they were in this area. But this one tree is completely covered in shoes. There must be 500 shoes, all tied together and hung from the branches. It’s a huge sculpture art installation, and it’s awesome. The tree is probably 30 feet high or more, and shoes dangle gracefully even from the top branches. Some of these shoes are perfectly good too, brand new shoes… One must wonder how this got out here, it took a lot of time and effort, and it’s fantastic. People just drive right by it without noticing. But I stopped for a while and felt pretty victorious for making it to this tree I remembered.

I had hoped I’d be able to camp in the shelter of the tree, because there is no other shelter anywhere in Nevada. I have never seen a place with such little shelter from the elements, there’s hardly hills or mounds of dirt because everything is so big and spacious. The bushes are often ankle height as far as the eye can see. But I still had daylight and a good weather forecast for many days, so I’d take my chances camping in the bushes. I kept biking.

The last ride of the day I felt great and had found my energy/ magic powers I had been searching for in the morning which allows me to enjoy biking. So I kept going into a picturesque sunset. I setup camp at the Cold Springs Station, an old outpost with some crumbling ruins from the days of the Pony Express. The toughest, “wiry young fellows” around carried important messages from Midwest or East Coast to West Coast, relaying memos on horseback during the civil war. I thought a lot about them the rest of the trip, it would have been fun. A horse would be a better way to travel here than a bike, goes about the same speed or faster. The good thing is the scenery hasn’t changed in the slightest since then, Nevada remains unaffected completely by time.

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DAY SEVEN – 5/9 Cold Springs – Austin – the middle of nowhere. 81 miles!

I woke up at 4AM to coyotes howling loud and crazed all around me. I was completely soaking wet with dew. I had setup camp in the sagebrush which is a little taller and more protective than the ankle height bushes, in a hidden valley beneath a snowy range. The valley reminded me a bit of California and the Owens Valley… The Sierra Nevada, only this valley had no civilization in it. The sage however, had done nothing to protect me from this onslaught of dew. I didn’t see it coming, but that’s how you learn. All the beautiful swirling clouds of the day before… when night came it’s like they just dropped! Boom, fell out of the sky at once and covered me and everything. I was wide awake, the stars and fluttering Milky Way were phenomenally bright. Let’s just get up now!

I packed up in the predawn glow and by sunrise I had already covered 15 miles. Yes! Such a great morning, even if all my stuff was soaking wet. I climbed a mountain pass after 25 miles starting to feel more fatigued now. I looked back and I could still see the area I started from… I could see 25 miles!!! Ridiculous. So flat, so empty. Then I turned a corner and put that range behind me.

It was a gradual climb over many miles more, and I looked out to the endless plateau of sage I was crossing. I made the summit then crossed another endless plateau. Finally I made the actual summit, Mt. Airy Pass. All at once the Toiyabe Range revealed itself. This range was completely snow covered and boldly rising from the desert floor much like the Sierra Nevada. It looked so reminiscent of the Sierras, but was less rocky. I was feeling pretty overjoyed, and when I turned on my cell phone and magically had service, I stopped and setup for lunch. I spread all my gear out on the bushes, and before long in the cool sunshine it was perfectly dry.

51 miles passed and I came to the town of Austin. I have been here before, so it was cool to see it again. The town is built into a notch in the Toiyabe Range, it’s actually a very cold place at about 6500 feet of elevation. I had to climb the steepest climb of all Nevada to get here. It’s a VERY small town, really great place though. I ate at the local café, got a patty melt, fries and ice cream. Was exactly what I wanted, and after filling my water and buying more gas station snacks I headed onward.

I had to climb to the top of Austin summit after that, at nearly 8000 feet. I had a very strong tail wind all day which had been picking up ferocity. Now it was blowing me right up the pass, excellent! But on the ride down it was blowing me far too fast for my fully loaded bike, plus my back tire break has given out, so with only the front brake I could hardly slow down enough. I grinded out the side of my shoe breaking the back tire with it. But the scenery was great, real vacant and vast, snow on the surrounding mountains… I was feeling destroyed by the time I made the bottom though.

Then I biked 30 miles further! Here was the best scenery on the east side of the Toiyabe Range, the clouds whirling into incredible patterns. Lenticular clouds flung themselves across the sky like horses galloping before the wind. It gave me something to watch as the sun set, then I climbed ANOTHER mountain pass. Oh my god get me off this cold, freezing thing.

When I did get down though, it wasn’t very far down, I was still over 6000 feet. Now I saw the most vacancy, the vastness place of all. A plateau of sage with mountain ranges scarring it in every direction on the horizons. There was nothing here, just frigid sage, and snow on weird ridges countless miles away. Guess I’m forced to spend the night in this lousy place, I don’t think I like it. I had read a sign, in this stretch of Great Basin cold desert, there are actually 16 mountain ranges! I didn’t cross all of those but I crossed many, and travelled around the bottoms of many more.

I setup camp to the coyote howls in the sage. I had a restless, unrelaxing evening for some reason. Was pretty stressed/ uncomfortable. Eventually I fell asleep.

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DAY EIGHT 5/10 The middle of nowhere – the middle of nowhere 71 miles

Today I woke up covered in frost. However, I had taken precautions and setup my tarp over the sage. Still I was basically soaked anyway, but it helped. When my bivvy sack gets soaked, the outside layer of my sleeping bag does too. As long as I stay inside the sleeping bag though, I have a pocket of dry warmth. I sleep fine even when everything’s wet – usually.

The morning was very beautiful. There were absolutely no clouds, but as the day went by and that frost unsettled itself back into the atmosphere, clouds appeared. Like every day in the cold desert, chilly, clear skies in the morning, turbulent, freezing-heat and clouds in the afternoon. The landscape to me was mint. It was this pure mint green of sage as far as the eye can see, and icy like mint too. The day went by, it was kind of like I’m pedaling a treadmill and spinning the earth below the bike.

I have to sing really loud to break up the monotony. I think I’m getting better at singing after all this singing, I’m starting to remember more lyrics. It was lonely alright, it was the loneliest road. I met a hitchhiker briefly. I stopped and took a break after 10 miles, ate food after 20 more. Every time I’d stop it felt like I was going back to sit in the EXACT same spot in the sage I had stopped at miles before. Like, oh, I’m back here, in the resting place… unchanged. The mountains would all rearrange themselves but otherwise it was like I wasn’t going anywhere at all. I biked another 20 miles. I biked another 10 miles, I biked another 5 miles…. I biked another 5 miles… exhaustion was hitting hard. It was endless.

I did pass by some ranches and a pretty, snow covered peak, I came within 5 miles of the town of Eureka before taking a left turn and heading north. 90 miles more to the small town of Carlin! Too many! Then 23 to Elko. I climbed Garden Pass towards the end of my day. The scenery was delicate rock ridges with the horses galloping in front. This place is majestic alright.

When I came down the pass, the valley I descended to was just as cold and harsh as the one I came to the day before, if not more so. There was a range of barren low lying mountains which glared at my so sinister. There was a shack, half built, standing alone. Just the ghost of a house. I would hate to die here for fear of being lost as some wandering spirit for all eternity! I sang every line of Bohemian Rhapsody pretty much perfectly at full volume to the point where I hurt myself, I’m pretty sure if anyone heard it they would be laughing.

I wound up after 71 long miles in basically the exact same place as I started this morning. How futile and hopeless this place is. I setup camp, but had a relaxing and enjoyable evening this night. Just 73 miles until Elko from here…

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DAY NINE 5/11 – 73 miles To Elko!

Frosted over again in the morning, and it was biting cold. I am definitely travelling north, and can feel it. I stayed drier than ever this morning with my tarp setup, still wet though. Yesterday I had been able to spread my stuff out to dry, as I would later today. It takes a bit of effort to unpack and repack everything but is important to get a dry start to the night.

I biked even more today… But there was hope! Carlin was getting closer! There a light at the end of this tunnel! And the ride was extremely easy for some reason, no wind and mostly all downhill. I covered the miles in very quick time.

The scenery was very good, but when I got closer to Carlin it became the best yet. I passed through mountains of red clay, juniper forests growing on them. There was a muddy river carving a canyon which I followed. There were purple flowers blooming on the ranch fields as far as the eye could see. When I’d pass through the mountains, they would close in all around me, but still were incredibly spacious like Nevada. Everything here was colorful, everything was huge. Prairie dogs yipped and squeaked as they crossed the road. Rabbits had been everywhere on this whole trip, you definitely wouldn’t be going hungry in this desert! I probably saw 1000 rabbits over the course of the last few days. And there was water, small floodplains, streams, you could survive out here. A magnificent kind of eagle gave its classic screech overhead from time to time. I also saw copious amounts of roadkill.

Then, I crested the last hill. There it was, below in the reddish hued valley – Carlin.

It was a really peaceful town, I could live there. It felt so good to rest indoors as I sat and snacked in a gas station. I could feel the sun burning on my face as I sat inside in the relative dark. I had gotten uncontrolled amounts of sun exposure, even using a hat, sunglasses and sunscreen. Currently, as I write this resting here in Elko, I am super tan and my skin is flaking away.

I left Carlin planning to bike on Interstate 80. It was exciting, I got on the major highway, and was enjoying it for about one mile before a sign, “cyclists must take next exit.” Whaaat? So I “must” so I did. I was a little upset by it because google maps had tried to route me around the interstate, instead thinking I’d rather go over some little dirt road and climb a mountain. No I didn’t want to do that… But it was clear, the interstate passed through a dark tunnel at Carlin Canyon. Guess the traffic gets to pass right through the mountain and I have to go over it, no fair!

I biked, and there were signs that said “bike route,” so I’d just follow and see where I was led. It turned a corner, passing under the interstate at the tunnel, and then continued into Carlin Canyon. The road suddenly became grand and fantastic as it wound through an enormous canyon following a river. It was all downhill too, it was some of my favorite scenery. It looked like a canyon in Moab, Utah, only with a distinctly Nevada flavor. I saw the dirt road google maps wanted me to take, the bike route continued and allowed me back on the interstate at the other side of the tunnel.

From there, I had a fun, easy ride to Elko, about 15 miles further. The constant passing of semis left a wind tunnel wake for me to get pulled through. It was exciting, they helped me along, a little bit recklessly at times. I really enjoyed biking on the interstate, it was loud, but a great experience. I’d do it again any time, but I think that’s the only time I will on this trip.

Finally I arrived in Elko. Kind of a stupid town honestly, very industrial. I like it though, it’s got that Nevada- Las Vegas- Reno style of ugly freedom and tacky western crap. I was thinking, hope I can find a cheap motel, ha! I saw probably 30 motels in this town, I kid you not, it’s like all motels. Well, guess I’ll be staying in a motel tonight! Woohoo! The rest of the evening was extremely relaxing beyond belief, so worth every penny to recover from the riding. I ate a pizza in my room.

The next morning was pretty relaxing too, and I brought my bike to the shop to get fixed hopefully. We’ll see, he’s not sure if he has the proper tools to fix my particular disc brake, the brake fluid needs to be drained, ect… I’m writing this now while I wait for it. I’m having such a fine morning today, and this afternoon I’m really looking forward to heading back out into the desert!!!