The night was cool and quiet and the sound of the music was comforting and peaceful. It was a wonderful moment to reflect and relax. I quietly began assembling my tent and preparing for sleep, taking care not to disrupt the music. It really was just what I needed after a tough day. It's just like the man in Rico, CO told me on that fateful night, things come around just when you need them to put everything back in perspective.
Now, a few words on the days events.
First, a chilly descent out of Eureka allowed me to start the day fairly easily, albeit slightly uncomfortable due to the cold morning air. It didn't really merit a stop to don my jacket because I knew that the moment I did, I would start sweating like crazy. Sometimes, you just have to endure a little chill until the sun warms everything up.
After a few great days of moderate desert weather, Nevada decided to show up in full force. Before long, the sky cleared out and the sun began to bake me and everything else around without mercy. It finally occurred to me why it is so silent around here- nobody could ever live here! Not even bugs!
Whenever I stop to stretch or switch my water bottles out, I notice that without the sound of my bike and the wind across my ears, it is totally dead out here. There are no birds, no crickets, no streams, nothing at all that makes a sound. It's so quiet in fact that my ears ring a little bit and I can hear my own heartbeat. I can see how people just kept moving through as they explored westward.
Around midday, as usual, the wind picked up and, as usual, it was directed straigt into my face. I'd finally reached a spot in the country with some actual flat ground but I still had to compete with some of the strongest wind I've experienced so far.
I bumped into the Bike and Build team throughout the day again. Our destinations are aligned for a few days, so I'll be seeing them more. I actually enjoy seeing other people out here because they don't mess with me and when the riding is tough, there's always someone else to come by and share a tortured glance. Even though there are 33 of them, they all seem to understand when to back off each other and when to ride along and converse.
Only twelve miles to go until I reach Austin and after 40 days of successful rides, it happens...
Some of the guys I met in Kansas mentioned that sometimes truckers will see how close they can get to cyclists and try to knock them down. They know the kind of wind they create and it's like a sport to see if they can push people off the road. When a truck passes, it generates a 60 mph gust of wind which can be pretty poweful.
In my mirror I saw a couple of hay trucks approaching. I've learned that those are some of the strongest wind generating loads since the hay is so pourus. I moved out to the shoulder, which at that point was only about ten inches across. I hoped that like most drivers they would split the difference and move out a little.
The first one passed and nearly sent me off the road. He didn't move out at all. The wind was so strong that it I struggled to regain control. As I was attempting to straighten out, I realized the next truck was about to pass and I didn't have many options. I maintained my course on the "shoulder" and braced for the next impact, but he actually lined his tire up right on the white line and swiped right past me. There couldn't have been more than an inch between me and the side of the truck.
I swerved off the road and into the sandy material adjacent to the pavement. This is the worst type of material because the tire just cuts down into it and goes totally out of control. My front wheel twisted around and sent me and the bike straight into the ground. I took the entire weight of the fall in my left knee and wiped out.
My first reaction was to pick the bike up and look it over. Just as I was reviewing it for damage, I noticed the my leg was covered in blood. I grabbed one of my squirt bottles and sprayed off the excess to reveal an enourmous chunk missing from my skin. There were many smaller cuts and scrapes, but one in particular which looked like it was about a quarter inch deep and about as wide. The blood kept flowing and it didn't make sense to waste what litle water I had left, so I just got back up and kept moving. I was still twelve miles from the next trace of humanity, so I didn't have an other choice. And just to make matters worse, the next twelve miles happened to contain the two steepest hills in Nevada.
I figured I had a window of time before the pain really set in, so I moved as fast as I could. If it got too bad, I'd just walk the rest, but that could be even worse and would take all night. Luckily, the pain never really came and I was able to make it to the top and start my descent into Austin.
There aren't really any medical services out here and the town of Austin currently boasts a population of 340, so I had to think for a minute about my next move. I went to a quick shop to get drinks, and with my leg still bleeding asked the guy for some advice. He had some rubbing alcohol and tissues which I used to get things under control, but I was still in need of some more serious attention.
Just down the street there was a police station and I assumed they would have some sort of first aid materials. I went in and met the towns only police officer who took great care of me and wrapped everything up like a pro. I guess I can go set up camp now.
Camping in the city park for the night. I've got the whole place to myself and it's actually a pretty decent looking facility. I found a great spot where the sprinklers don't reach and I'm ready to hit the hay... Not literally this time.
Location:Austin, NV
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