Middlegate --> Carson City
In my mind Middlegate had become the edge of civilization but when I had arrived the night before I realized that it was yet another oasis. I still had quite a bit of riding before Fallon and even more to Carson City and into California. Looking back on my ride I realize now that Nevada was some of the most memorable and awesome riding, but at the time I was so ready to be rid of the state. I damned it every morning and every night. After the first few miles across the Utah/Neva border I felt that I had seen it all, but all the discomforts of the state continued to reappear; like that political ad that you’ve seen a million times after the first was too much to start with. Although, if it wasn’t for the difficulties of the trip I wouldn’t have anything to remember except for nice views and funny people, which I could have easily experienced in fifteen minutes at a coffee shop in the Springs rather than a 17 day interstate bike adventure. That being said, Nevada wasn’t planning on letting me leave without a fight.
After leaving Middlegate I rode through several military installations which made sense due to the amount of Naval Pilots that had frequented the bar I had slept outside the night before. I actually wasn’t too far from the infamous Area-51 either…. You better believe that the night before, sleeping beside a shed in nowhere Nevada, I kept my eyes on the sky and cheeks a little tighter than normal. In fact this area had so much air traffic, worldly or intergalactic, that the sandy embankments along the rode were covered in messages written in the small lava rocks that were scattered throughout the landscape. Mostly things like; “Hank loves Lauren” or “Rock and Betty forever” but occasionally you’d get a “take me with you” or “Beam me up”. It had become easy to understand how a person living in these conditions might feel inclined to say that an extraterrestrial plucked them up and probed places that even humans won’t go unless they have a M.D. Regardless, the writings continued for many miles and entertained me long enough to bring me much closer to Fallon.
There were other sights to see thought; Sand Mountain stood shining in the distance for miles. It was a solitary 600-700 foot hill of pure sugar like sand. It gleamed in the Nevada sun like a million mirrors, so much so that every few seconds I looked at it brought another drop of moisture to my eyes. I would have stopped to play upon its slopes but nearly a year before I had spent days exploring the Great Sand Dunes at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. So I pushed on towards Fallon only to be stopped by yet another natural wonder. The valley floor became increasingly white until the land around me looked to have been bleached. I slowed to examine the wonder and soon found myself with a handful of the strange earth contemplating consumption. My mind had a theory that my taste confirmed, I was riding through and enormous salt flat. Everyday table salt covered the ground like a soft winter snow. I had already partaken of this salt flat the day before but in a much more domestic environment, I had salted my fries at the Austin Diner with a shaker boasting their delicious desert resource outside Fallon.
Well, between the flats and Fallon I ran into very little than interested me besides a serious greening of the landscape and quite a few non shoe covered trees. I stopped at the first enormous gas station I could find to refuel; Mountain Dew, corndogs, and of course a half gallon of milk. I made some victorious calls back home to proclaim that I had nearly conquered my third and most brutal adversary…I mean state. In this conversation ‘nearly’ was the word that I overlooked. I had tremendous luck as I crossed the state, I had managed to somehow avoid the terrible western winds that dominated forecasts but had been absent in recent days…. until now. From Fallon to Carson City I faced a head wind so strong that should I have a hesitation in effort my bike would slow to a point that threatened tipping, which I almost welcomed because it would end the constant struggle.
Through pure effort and constant attrition I managed to reach Carson City, The largest city in my travels thus far. It was early in the day but the wind had destroyed me, and so I found myself in the comforting glow of a Dairy Queen sign. I ate a selection of the menu while I tried to decide what to do with myself for the night. I had ridden deep into Carson City and I didn’t favor the idea of riding back out into the country to camp, so I sent myself up at a hotel right off the main drag in Carson City, a rather sleazy area of town full of casinos and unsavory looking women on street corners.
After I settled into my room I thought about trying my luck at the blackjack table, but instead decided to sit down and watch some Olympics so I wasn’t completely out of the loop when I arrived at the Training Center in a few days. Of the three nights I stayed in hotels along the way I can say only that I felt rather uncomfortable with the ease of my surroundings, I even slept in my bag. I did enjoy the showers though, but I cringed at having to cover my clean skin immediately with sunscreen in the wee hours of the morning. The amenities of the hotel were nice but the thought of entering the Golden State in the morning was enough to send me to bed with a smile.
Day: 116.69 miTotal: 1427.33 mi
Elev. Climbed: 1400 ft
Elev. Difference: 100 ft
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