Austin, NV to Panguitch, UT: Strawberries, High Jumps, and Long Climbs

After visiting Austin we saw the strawberry.

Oh yes. It's real.

(and almost as good as the signs that say "Falling Rock.")

Okay, we didn't see the strawberry... I assume that's a city of some kind. But I thought it was a great sign. So there's a photo of it.

To be completely honest the next day was like most days in Nevada. We climbed. We descended. We flatted (a new word I just made up which means "to go forward without change in elevation"). We drank water. Don't believe me?

This photo brought to you by the self-timer on my camera.

We also made a plan to arrive at Ely early in the morning for sort of a half-break day. So we made it to 20 or 30 miles outside of Ely that day, stealth camped, and then arrived in town about 11 or so. I was surprised they let us check in that early, but apparently it wasn't that big of a deal. In any case, we made camp... in a very unpacking-like fashion... and got to business. There were blogs to be updated. Tires to be patched. Donuts to be found.

(yes, there were donuts in Ely)

We also watched The A-Team, which I had never seen before. And I'll just leave that one hanging out there.

Anyways, the next day we took off, and then Ken's rim took off.

*rocket ship noise*

Okay, metaphorically speaking, anyways. What you see in the photo is something called a "spoke nipple." It holds the spoke onto the rim of the wheel. The other side of the spoke is attached to the hub of the wheel, which has the axle and keeps the wheel attached to the frame of the bike. In any case, you can see that the rim of the wheel has cracked where it's holding the spoke nipple in place. This is a common way for wheels to fail, often accompanying a broken spoke.

We decided, of course, that Ken's wheel hadn't really failed... that we could work with it and keep going. So I used my magic bike mechanic skills to magic away the problem, and we kept riding.

We rode into a field of wind turbines, and met Alex.

What a good photographer. You can see Alex... and the wind turbines.

Alex is the kind of guy I would have liked to have kept riding with, but alas, he was headed the other way. He had already put 7,000 miles on his bike, doing loop-de-loos from Texas, and was planning on doing 5,000 more on the way to San Francisco. Apparently he affords his trip by doing work along the way -- he was coming from a 2-day stint as a weed puller at a local grocery store, apparently. It seemed like a cool way to make a living... and see the world... at the same time.

In any case, we got past the field of wind turbines, and up the hill... and down the hill... and then I realized I was in front, by quite a bit. This doesn't happen often, as I'm the most out of shape of the three of us (whatever that means while on tour). I wanted to make the most of being ahead, but there was a turn coming up, and I'd already had to correct Tim and Ken on five wrong turns or so... so I waited in what little shade I could find.

This photo brought to you by boredom... and also the self-timer on my camera.

After a while I asked a car passing by if they'd seen any cyclists. They'd passed two, one of whom was hitchhiking, one of whom was waiting patiently for the hitchhiker. Then I saw a pickup with Ken's bike in the back. Then I asked another car and there was just one cyclist, and he was no longer waiting... then I found Tim.

So, the worst had happened. Ken's wheel had busted for good, and he had to take the hard way out. No more Ken.

Okay, just kidding. He joins us again later, with a new wheel. But first... Tim and I get to Utah!

"Life Elevated." Get it? Because I'm jumping? Haha... ha... okay, anyways.

Utah is the state of the snakes. We saw three in the first hour. No rattlesnakes, but there was one snake in particular that was quite large. They were all just hanging out in the middle of the road. As a cyclist you tend to zone out quite a bit, so we didn't really notice them until we were almost on them... but they were never coiled up or anything. Just hangin out. Up until then we had seen plenty of dead snakes... these were the first alive snakes we saw.

Anyways, we made it about 20 miles into Utah before making camp. And then...

You only think this is a picture of Nevada.

See, we were all excited to be done with "endless hills" and such... but Utah just had more of them. Yes, more endless hills... oh, and did I mention I almost ran out of water? I didn't run out completely, having bought a liter or so of Gatorade just before entering Utah, but this was one of our longest stretches without service -- 84 miles, I believe -- and we didn't have any unwilling volunteers to deliver water for us, as apparently this was a particularly desolate stretch of highway. In any case, Tim, being much faster than I, disappeared relatively quickly that morning.

I was having trouble with the wind.

You see, as a touring cyclist, there is one thing you come to enjoy quite a bit... and that is going down hills. It's sort of like a sacred right. And when wind comes and ruins that... you just get angry. Most hills you should easily be able to go at least 10 mph on, if not 16, or 20, or sometimes 30+ (I think my top speed thus far is 49). So when you spend three hours climbing 3,000 vertical feet, you expect some relief at the end. But no. Not in Utah. In Utah you have to pedal to go even 8 down a hill. It was painful... demoralizing... *ahem.*

Elsewhere, Ken struggles to get a wheel, because everything in Utah is closed on Sundays.

Back in Milford, UT, Kyle stops at a Subway, the only establishment open on a Sunday. Oh, and there were people there talking about gold.

And then I slept on top of a mountain.

I correctly ascertained that on the Cedar City side of the next pass, there wouldn't be any stealth camping. So I made it to the top and made camp, at about 8,000 feet, I believe. Thinking, foolishly, that I'd have an easy downhill in the morning...

You already know how that one ends (pro tip: it was windy).

Anyways, I made it to Cedar City about 10:30. I was fresh out of food, not having had a decent grocery story since Ely, so I stocked up on food and candy (candies are important!) and went to Little Caesar's for lunch. FYI, Little Caesar's is the best thing ever for touring cyclists. Basically you're like, "So listen, I need about 8,000 calories to make it through the day today... here's $5... think you can do that?" and Little Caesar's is like... "well, yea!"

So anyways, I stocked up, and -- 

10 pounds later...

-- wait, what?

I haven't talked a heck of a lot about weight yet, but now seems like a good time. See, as a touring cyclist, you are pretty much always worried about how much things weigh. I think I may have forgotten to mention, but (for first-timers anyways) there's a bit of a ritual as far as sending things home goes: You do it at least once. You realize you don't need three bars of soap, or two jackets, or shaving cream (...), and as soon as you dump all that stuff, pedaling is much easier.

(alternatively, you ride with some crazy guys from Bosnia, and when they see you using unnecessary things like can openers, they just throw them away for you... *ahem*)

I haven't mentioned this yet, but there's a bit hill out of Cedar City. Essentially, you have about 20 miles to do 5,000 vertical feet.

The sign in the back says "Turn Back Now."

So when I say "I stocked up," what I really mean is that "every penny I spent hurt me on the inside."

In any case, I left Cedar City at 12 (little did I know Tim was in a motel nearby...) and made it up the hill by 5. Immediately after leaving town, the view was great. It clearly wasn't desert... it was clearly... gorgeous.

Oh also, just below 10,000 vertical feet, this happened:

How many sheep does it take to... wait.

It's okay though. While I was biking up a hill, Ken was biking 130 miles, trying to get to Panguitch from wherever he had hitchhiked to. And Tim was behind me somewhere, having left Cedar City at about 2.

I made it to the top of the hill around 5, and then proceeded to go down. So far down. Okay, so Cedar City was at about 5,800. I had climbed to 10,800. And I had to descend to around 7,000, where I'd spend the next few days... er... day.

And also that night.

So time for bed here in Telluride, CO... but I'm catching up... I think... right? In any case, the next post will be about the great reuniting of myself with my bicycle buddies, a break day in Bryce Canyon, meeting more fellow cyclists than I can count on one hand, and much more, I'm sure.

Like pictures of lizards.

With love from Telluride.

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