Continuing the saga of that long ago epic solo bike tour around the Nevada Test Site that helped set me on the path toward becoming the Iron Tortoise of cyclo-commuting fame. For those who may have missed the earlier installments, Part 1 is here, Part 2 is here, and Part 3 is here.
Day 4 (Tuesday, April 11): All the Way to Alamo
OK, so maybe spending the night in a derelict motel out in the middle of Nevada’s nowhere wasn’t one of my better ideas. Sure, I was out of the wind, but even with the windows wide open, the room was still far too stuffy — and what little sleep I managed to snatch was plagued with all sorts of disturbing nightmares involving axe murderers and the like. By the time the first hint of what would prove to be a quite colorful dawn became noticeable before 6 am, I was more than ready to get underway once again.
This particular day was originally scheduled to be one of the easiest of the tour, with just 60 miles to cover and a mere 1000 feet of climbing over a single summit, but by this point I was really getting into the rhythm of the cycling itself and starting to think in terms of how far I could actually push myself. So after a breakfast of canned pineapple and a little further exploration of the area’s decaying ruins, I headed east on Nevada SR 375 a little after 7 am. With the aid of a still refreshingly brisk tail wind, I sailed on past the unlikely oasis of Twin Springs Ranch and out across the endless expanse of Railroad Valley — where I encountered the first livestock (cattle) I had seen yet in Nevada.
After a relatively easy climb up the Queen City Summit, and another 45 mph tailwind-assisted descent, I rolled on into Rachel around 11 am. In less than 4 hours I had completed the entire 60 miles I had planned for the day, during which I had seen just 17 vehicles since leaving US 6 back at Warm Springs. Enjoying a complete BBQ chicken lunch at the local diner, my first real meal since Tonopah 48 hours previously, I weighed my options as I waited out the midday sun and watched the USAF engage in its supersonic ballet of mock dogfights. Though the air temperature was somewhat cooler than it had been during the last several days, and in the shade was actually quite pleasant, the sun itself was still as intensely bright as ever. Reasoning that today’s tailwind could just as easily become tomorrow’s headwind, I resolved to press on to the more promising prospects of Crystal Springs and the Pahranagat Valley.
Loading up on additional liquids and canned food, I wheeled out of Rachel around 3:30 pm — having politely declined several offers of a ride up to the next summit from sympathetic onlookers who obviously thought I must be a few bricks short of a full load for being out there at all with just a bike. An easy 700 foot climb took me to the top of Coyote Summit, and another exhilarating 40+ mph downhill brought me into magnificent Tikaboo Valley with its myriad Joshua Trees stretching to the horizon. Though not quite as statuesque as their counterparts in California’s Joshua Tree National Monument/Park, at least they helped liven up the otherwise barren landscapes I was cycling through.
The last few miles up to Hancock Summit turned out to be the toughest of the entire tour, where I actually had to engage my lowest gears for the first and only time. Perhaps the fatigue of one too many summits was beginning to take its toll, for I suffered my only real bout of paranoia here — imagining a distant pickup truck emerging from Area 51 on the backside of the Nevada Test Site had suddenly noticed my presence and was now trying to intercept me for reasons unknown but presumably nefarious. Needless to say, I managed to clear this final summit without any untoward incident, and descended down into the amazingly verdant (at least by Nevada standards) Pahranagat Valley.
Arriving at Crystal Springs and US 93 just ahead of the setting sun, I discovered the mileages on my AAA map had suddenly gone askew. Up to this point my odometer had been agreeing quite closely with the map mileages, but the last 36 map miles had just required 42 bike miles to cover. Since the water was not quite warm enough to encourage an evening dip, I continued on to Ash Springs and a convenience store supper of nachos, sauerkraut, and more sardines. Not yet ready to call it a night, I rolled on down to the outskirts of Alamo by moonlight where I finally set up camp off the side of the road around 10 pm.
I had traveled a total of 115 miles for the day, with 2600 feet of climbing and 4600 feet of downhilling, and thanks to the favorable tailwind, felt like I could have gone at least another 50 miles if needed — my first ever century ride on a bike carrying all my own camping gear.
To be continued in Part 5...