Since the photographic record for the back half of my bike tour around the NTS is much sparser than for the front half, I’ve combined the last 3 days into a final concluding chapter. For those who may have missed the earlier installments, Part 1 is here, Part 2 is here, Part 3 is here, and Part 4 is here. Once again, a tip of the hat to ForesterBob for inspiring me to put this compilation together.
Day 5 (Wednesday, April 12): Left Turn to Lake Meade
Awakening to the clear calm predawn twilight, I was stilled wired from Tuesday’s exhilarating century-plus ride, and more than ready to see just how much additional distance I could devour. I had actually been toying with the notion of foregoing any sleep the night before to see if I could make it all the way down to Las Vegas in one push. Fortunately, my rational mind had still been exercising enough control to veto that particular piece of potentially suicidal stupidity. As I was to find out soon enough, endurance cycling without the benefit of at least some shuteye is a supremely suboptimal strategy; and this would have been even worse since the nearest anything from my bivouac at Alamo was nearly 90 miles away at North Las Vegas, and I wasn’t really equipped with sufficient lighting to be doing much traveling in the dark in the first place.
Pahranagat Lakes
Destined to descend back down into the sweltering heat of lower elevations, I wanted to get as early a start as possible; so after resupplying at a convenience store in Alamo and a quick pecan pie breakfast, I was back on the road (US 93) heading south by 6:30 am. Pedaling past some truly exquisite early morning views of the Pahranagat Lakes, I soon left the last of the greenery behind and returned to a more typically austere desert landscape — though at least this section was enlivened by a profusion of spring wildflowers. I never did find the turnoff for my projected Maynard Lake campsite, so it was just as well that I was no longer following my original itinerary.
Arriving at the junction with SR 168 just after 9 am, I noted that this part of Nevada still had a problem with distances since the last 41 map miles had taken 45 miles as measured by my odometer to cover. I now had to decide whether to continue directly on to Las Vegas, which would put me a full day ahead of schedule, or to use the extra time I had saved thus far to do some additional sightseeing. Never having been a big fan of Lost Wages to begin with, and not particularly looking forward to spending an extra day in the sunless shade of Peace Camp before I could catch up with my ride back to Los Angeles, I opted for the sightseeing and detoured left toward Glendale and Lake Mead.
Moapa River Reservation
SR 168 proved to be much hillier going than I had become accustomed to, constantly climbing in and out of numerous arroyos. Passing by the irrigated greenery of the Moapa River Reservation, I wheeled into Glendale a little after 11 am, having covered the 70 miles since Alamo in a bit more than 4.5 hours. Following a cherry milk shake lunch and another call into APT to let them know of my change in plans, I proceeded east under an increasingly intense desert sun. The couple of miles riding along the shoulder of I-15 to SR 169 were more than enough to remind me of just how much I had come to loathe the motorized traffic on the Interstates, and just how far I might be willing to go to avoid it all.
Overton Beach Marina, Lake Mead
More ups and downs and a variety of cross and head winds brought me to Overton, then a stiff climb up to Beach Junction overlooking Lake Mead, before eventually arriving at the Overton Beach Marina — where I then discovered my intended destination of Roger’s Hot Spring was currently closed for renovation. After soaking my feet in the huge reservoir’s comfortably cool water, and an early supper of more microwaved burritos, I decided I had not gone this far out of my way not to at least see what Roger’s had to offer. Leaving the marina around 5:30 pm, I climbed back up to Beach Junction, stopped briefly at Blue Point Spring, and eventually found the entrance to Roger’s.
Roger’s Hot Spring
Though the large gravel-lined pool had been mostly drained, and a sign warned against a rather nasty brain-eating amoeba, I took the opportunity to rinse off in the lukewarm outflow and do a little long overdue laundry. With the side road into Roger’s blocked for regular traffic, I had the place all to myself for the night, stretching out in relative comfort on a wooden picnic table. The 106 miles ridden that day, with a net gain of 1500 feet and loss of 3400 feet, marked my first ever back-to-back century ride. Unfortunately this night would prove to be by far the warmest I had yet experienced on the tour.
Day 6 (Thursday, April 13): Las Vegas at Last
Previously, no matter how hot the days had been, at least the nights had all cooled off to a significant degree — but not this time! It was becoming increasingly obvious that Tuesday’s brief respite had lost out to a resurgence of the ongoing heat wave, and the presence of a swarm of annoying mosquitos that only came out after nightfall just made things even more miserable. Consequently, I needed little prompting to awaken long before the first faint glimmerings of dawn, and was back in the saddle again by 6 am. I still had at least 65 miles of desert to cross on my way to Las Vegas, and I wanted to get as many of them out of the way as possible before the heat again became too intolerable.
Shortcut to North Las Vegas?
Proceeding south and west along the northern shore of Lake Mead through the hilliest terrain of the tour, I had to deal with my first real mechanical problem when my bike’s left crank suddenly detached itself from the bottom bracket. Though a rather mediocre mechanic at the best of times, at least I had enough of a tool kit to remedy this embarrassing and potentially crippling situation. After a seemingly interminable series of hills I came to a junction with a potential shortcut to North Las Vegas, where I once again debated my options. Since this alternative route was both unpaved and unmarked on any of my maps, and I was by now in serious need of rehydration, I managed to curb my natural inclination to explore and instead stayed the course for the nearest source of liquid refreshment at Henderson. Traversing a few last hills in increasingly oppressive heat, I finally arrived at this southernmost satellite of Las Vegas around 11 am, having covered 49 rather rough miles in 5 very long, hot hours.
Upon recharging with mass quantities of ice-cold soda, I headed north now on US 95 in fairly heavy traffic; and despite getting lost a couple of times cruising the Strip through Las Vegas, I eventually arrived at the American Peace Test office around 2 pm. Enjoying my first real meal since Rachel 2 days previously, a lavish late lunch at one of those all-you-can-eat buffets Las Vegas was famous for (prepandemic), I than talked via phone with the one reporter who seemed even vaguely aware of my effort to encircle the Test Site by bike. Volunteering to do a mail pickup for an affiliated group, I made an early evening side trip out to North Las Vegas and stocked up on sunscreen, film, fresh fruit, and other delicacies I had not seen since Tonopah.
Returning to the APT office after 8 pm, I was beginning to feel the first twinge of regret that the end of my tour was now almost in sight. Having already ridden over 500 miles, and with just 70 miles remaining, I was trying to think of how I could make this last section a bit less anti-climactic. Unfortunately, my less than brilliant idea was to stay up all night answering phones for APT, and then try and do the final stretch without any actual sleep. Aside from being a really dumb and pointless plan in and of itself, I also failed to realize just how much the 78 miles I had just logged (on less than adequate sleep from the night before) had already cost me — the accumulated gain and loss of 4500 feet had been greater than that of any other day on the tour. Of course another uncomfortably warm night in an office without any AC might not have allowed me to get much sleep in any event, and at least I was more or less performing a service of sorts.
Day 7 (Friday, April 14): Completing the Circuit
Early Friday morning was clear, calm, and relatively cool, but with the heat wave showing every indication of intensifying, I had no desire to linger. Following a banana and yogurt breakfast, I left the APT office long before 6 am, with only the neon glare of the Strip to light my way. Passing by the Department of Energy offices, I headed north along US 95 — the same route some 5000 DOE employees then took on their daily commute to NTS. For the first 15 miles or so, I was actually riding fairly well and thinking this final day would be a relatively easy one. But by the time the sun had cleared the horizon and I had left the garish glitz of Las Vegas behind, my acute lack of sleep began catching up in a serious way. On several occasions I found myself starting to doze off while still pushing the pedals; and though I somehow managed to avoid an actual crash, it became necessary to take increasingly frequent breaks along the way just to try and keep my eyes open. Even worse, my knees were now letting me know in no uncertain terms that they were no longer appreciating this extended period of abuse.
Nevada State Prison
Limping past the sinister fortress of the Nevada State Prison, I finally staggered into Indian Springs shortly after 10:30 am. It had taken nearly 5 hours to ride just 47 miles from the APT office in Las Vegas, and such residual energy reserves I still possessed were rapidly draining away in the enervating heat. Fortunately I was able to spend the rest of the day in the air-conditioned comfort of a local motel room that was being used by APT as a media coordination center. News from the Test Site demonstrations would be relayed by courier to Indian Springs, which could then be passed on by phone to Las Vegas and elsewhere. Following still more microwaved burritos, nachos, and an ice cream sandwich for lunch, and a much needed soul-restoring shower, I found myself once again answering the phones for APT. The logical course of inaction at this point would have been a nice long nap, but transfixed by a woefully misplaced machismo, I was still determined to complete this last leg of the tour sans snoozing.
Waiting for the sun to set and the heat to dissipate a bit, I finished off a couple last burritos for supper and set out down the darkened highway a little after 8 pm. Despite a continuing knee problem, the 23 mile moonlit ride into Peace Camp was a sublimely serene if somewhat surreal experience, a fitting conclusion to my solitary circumnavigation of the Nevada Test Site. The only discordant note occurred some 5 miles out from Peace Camp, when I belatedly noticed my headset had become dangerously loose and that my back tire had gone soft — the first flat I had ever suffered with this bike. Fortunately, I was able to hand-tighten the headset, and the air leak was slow enough to let me pump the tire back up and finish the ride without further ado.
I finally rolled into Peace Camp around 10:40 pm, having ridden a total of 576 miles in the past week, gaining and losing nearly 18,000 feet of elevation, and having consumed some 30 liters of fluids en route. Though no accolades awaited me (indeed, at this late hour few people even noticed my arrival), the whole tour had been immensely worthwhile. Physically I had proven, at least to myself, that even very long distance cycling under less than ideal conditions did not necessarily demand a fanatical devotion to either diet or training — just a modicum of common sense preparations and a willingness to persevere. And psychologically, I had now shed the last lingering remnants of self-doubt about divorcing myself from the gas-guzzling cult of automotive ownership.