After some careful thought and map study, I've decided to scale back my mileage for the last few days. As I approach and enter California, the towns worth stopping in become far more numerous and at shorter intervals. If I continue covering between 80 and 100 miles each day, I will end up in between them and without any real services. At this point, it will only add one day to my arrival estimate if I take shorter days, so I'm planning to do some fifties and sixties into San Fran.
There are also plenty of free places to stay on WarmShowers.org, so there's no reason to skip by them. I'll be in San Francisco by the 4th or 5th either way.
Tomorrow will be about 77 to Austin, then 114 to Fallon, then it starts to get short. From Fallon, I plan to take about 60 to Carson City and then somewere around 60 to the next place. If there is one state worth spending time in, it's California. I'm even passing right through Sacramento so maybe I'll be able to get a picture with Arnold. Do you think he would go for it? I'll just tell him I came all this way just to see him.
Today, my birthday, was actually pretty decent. It was my second full day travelling along "The Lonliest Higway in America", and I must say, it is far from lonely.
This highway has been more congested than any other I've been on since Kansas. Besides the trucks, cars and RVs, I happened to catch up to a team of cyclists from Bike and Build. There are 33 of them and they bike across the country contributing to home-building efforts in rough areas. They also distribute information and provide sessions on affordable housing for young adults in hard times.
The Bike and Build team is what we call in the idiot-long-distance-bike-touing world, SAGged. The SAG stands for 'supported and guided' and they travel with a support van. The cyclists are not required to carry anything on their bike except a bit of water. The van carries their gear and water and even picks them up when they get tired. SAG groups are generally looked down upon by the self-supported tourers like myself, but I'm not really in it to prove anything so I could care less.
I must admit however, that it did feel quite good as I passed some of them along the road. Their bikes weigh about 20% of what mine weighs and they cover less ground each day. Until I saw that I was easily passing them as they cranked up the hills or stopped along the shoulder to catch their breath, I never really felt like I was accomplishing anything special. It never occurred to me that hauling almost 100 pounds of gear up mountains and across hundreds of miles at a time was something special. I just did it because that was the only way to get to San Francisco. I don't mean to come down on these other guys, but it did make me feel for the first time like I was doing something that not everyone else could do.
Some of the group had stopped in a little pull-out off the roadside for lunch. They had a canopy set up and coolers out with fresh fruit and cold drinks. They were just sitting in the shade, enjoying a little lunch break and waiting for the rest of the team to catch up. As I rounded the corner, I decided to pull in and say hi.
They all greeted me with excitement and warmth. I felt immediately as though they knew what I was doing and respected it. Several members expressed their awe and asked me how I did what I did. My response, "slower." I didn't really move slower, but it felt like a nice colloquial response which would engender a chuckle while conveying a little humility.
We chatted for a while and I decided to stop in Eureka with them for the night. I can't stay at the same facility, as they are being hosted by an elementary school, but it would be cool to hang out with some other people on my birthday. As I bid adieu and began to shove off, I heard someone whisper, "let's sing", and before I could even comprehend the statement, they erupted in a chorus of "Happy Birthday".
I curved back around to listen to the song and I could feel my face form a huge smile. Things like this, out on the road with such seldom human connection, nearly bring me to tears. I felt this way when that German family pulled up next to me to cheer me on and when drivers passing by give thumbs up and other encouraging gestures from the window. Those little moments seem huge as they occur and can truly make a day positive.
I took a picture of them (with my real camera) and pulled away.
There were four summits today, but none but the last were anything significant. The final climb of the day seemed much more difficult than it looked on paper. It was only about ten miles of climbing but it still made me work. A few of the other bikers passed me going up the hill and my extra weight really started to demonstrate it's effect. Only five of the 33 managed to pass me, but I did become slightly envious of their support van as I made my steady but cumbersome ascent.
Arriving in Eureka, I met up with a few of the guys for milkshakes at the town diner. The shakes were delicious, by the way, and we each decided to get real food since our day of riding was done. We made it from Ely to Eureka by 3:00 which was even earlier than I expected. It felt good to know that I was done and still had the whole afternoon and evening to relax. I plan to take advantage of this in California.
The Lonliest Highway in America turned out to be one of the busiest roads with the most company I've experienced in weeks. Tomorrow should be similar in difficulty, but then it's downhill for a couple days. There will be one day of climbing over Carson Pass in Ca, but then it's downhill all the way to San Francisco. I'm not there yet, but it's hard to believe that I'm even going to make it.
Also, for the desert, it's been cool and rainy with mostly cloud cover for the past two days. Thanks, Nevada. I'd rather take a little drizzle than eight hours of relentless heat and oppressive skin-burning sun.
Location:Eureka, NV
Hey Kevin,
ReplyDeleteHappy Birthday!