They Rode West: High Desert

We departed from the park while the late arrival from the night before was still sleeping in. Or pretend-sleeping so he didn't have to participate in our vulgar discussions... who can say? Crimmins (last name, Nate) had a flat tire and a bum pump that was breaking his valve stems. I checked the opera house to see if it opened early on Monday mornings but the universe was not cooperating. Got the bike fixed and we began riding again, Highway 50. The 50 is our route for nearly the entire state. Calling the directions is very easy.

The flora is surprising lush this summer. We've been told that Nevada has received 400 percent of its usual rainfall, which seems to align with how much has come down on us. This desert is high desert and it doesn't seem as threatening as we all imagined. Scrub brush populates the foreground, interspersed with other small bushes and then a low, brown range in the background. Basin, range. Basin, range. We met up with a Mexican gentleman toward the end of the day who was touring as well. In less of a vacation mode though. He had packed up all of his belongings and was heading to Utah to look for work. His Trek mountain bike seemed like it would do the job but he was walking his bike up a hill when we met him. He didn't know that he had a flat tire and and his pump was broken so he couldn't fix it. There was a water jug lashed to his handlebars, we asked if he had enough. He told us he was headed to a park or campground for more water but we had already been that way and there was no agua. He probably had 40 or 50 more miles to go. Nate gave him his pump and some more water and we wished him luck. The guy was blazing his own trail, no doubt, but with a state map that didn't really have any legitimate information about services. Kept in good spirits though. Despite what the saying claims, the 50 really isn't that lonely. Maybe forty years ago or so when the phrase was coined, but now there's regular auto traffic. There was general concern about his safety but we figured an RV would rescue him if it really got bad.

The last climb of the day was a double summit. About five miles of climbing. Peak. Down two miles and then back up again. The last portion was difficult, steep. One foot after the other, keeping the breathing regular, the pace constant. Climbing can actually be a good time – once you've found your rhythm, the mountain testing you, you pushing back, slowly putting the miles behind. We made it to the top as we always do and devoured some snacks. The view was stunning, affording you a vista that extended deep into the valley floor below. It was beautiful, sweeping turns on the way down, throwing a knee and your shoulders out to counterbalance the weight. We arrived in Austin, our destination, another town right on a steep hill. Nevadans....

We went first to the post office where I picked up a package from my mom. Thanks Mom. We distributed the Clif Bars held within and Jeremy looked for a package from his mom but it had not yet arrived. The 140 mile day actually put us a day ahead of plan, as we had combined two forecasted rides. We were told it was OK to sleep in the park and headed back up the hill. This park had a pool and we were among the last visitors of the day. The other patrons were a mom and her two daughters. We made friends and invited them to play Marco Polo with us. The sun was drifting low over the ridge next door to the pool and Van Morrison was playing on their radio and everybody was friendly, having a good time. It was beautiful, idyllic, relaxing. Our time in the water came to a close and we gathered our belongings outside. Nate cast a suspicious eye at the well-kept grass and recounted a story of being soaked by early morning sprinklers in Dolores, Colorado. We were told that a woman came by in the morning and that it was a manual turn-on so we should be fine.

Back down the hill and to the Shell station, the closest thing to a grocery store for Austin. A guy there told us that the lady was wrong, and that the sprinklers were automatic, but he had shut them off for us. Lot of sprinkler intrigue. We went back to the park a final time and cooked and set up camp underneath an awning and on a concrete pad, just to be safe.