Since I had been turned away from the laundromat the night before, I had washed my clothes in the sink in my hotel room then hung them out to dry. My red jersey turned the water a bright hue, which I'm glad I learned by itself in the hotel sink and not in the wash with the rest of my clothes. By morning the clothes wern't all dry, so I grudgingly took them to the gas station/laundromat/liquor store. The rude woman who had turned me away saw me coming through the door and quickly turned away so as never to actually look in my direction the entire time I was there. I dried my clothes and got out of there. I went to the breakfast joint recommended to me in the fancy casino on Main St. Not one of the run down ones, but the fancy one. There's also the Eureka Opera House down the block, and I have to say, I'd love to see La Traviata in rural Nevada. I hear they're really big on Verdi in old mining towns.
There was a large table of (large) men in the corner who for a while were talking about baseball. I perked up when they mentioned the Cubs rookie who, in his first two major league at bats the night before had hit a 3-run triple and a 3-run homer, setting a new record. Then they brought up the Cubs' season record so far, compared to that of St Louis and I turned back to my hashbrowns. Also remarkable from breakfast there was a big guy (in fact, of the dozen or so men in the place, I'm the only one who could not accurately be described as 'that heavyset fella') whose meal apparently consisted of two bloody marys and a side of bacon. Hey, we all like brunch our own ways.
On the way out of town, I stopped at the last gas station for water and gatorade. The attendant asked if I was going cross country. We were the first this she'd seen this year, but that just meant that the season has started and she'd see touring cyclists all summer long from this point. She wished me speed and safety.
Back in the parking lot, a woman was admiring Penny. She asked how much weight I was carrying, with the additional water I was taking for the desert, about 70lbs. She introduced herself as Kitty and then introduced her partner, who's name escaped me somewhere around Pinto Summit. (sorry, I really should write them down) We talked for a bit, and she asked if I was with the two guys they had seen coming out of town. Two guys? I assumed Wayne had stopped in town for the night, but who was the other? They were seen only 5-10 minutes up the road, so I should be able to catch them. Anyway, Kitty offered that if I was going the other way, they'd put me up for the night. They lived in Merkleeville, famous for its Merkeleeville Death Ride, and a reasonable biking distance from Carson Pass. Maybe next time. The Death Ride is 120 miles and climbs 5 passes for a over 12000' of climbing. I'd love to try it unloaded. As I was talking to them, the youngest of the boys on bikes I had met last night rode up and said he remembered me. We all talked for a few minutes, the couple gave me a bran muffin and a mango, and I eventually started. I have had at least a banana a day for almost a week and a half now, and a mango is a nice changeup. Thanks, guys.
The first 5.5 miles east of Eureka is a climb up to Pinto Summit. As I crested the summit, I could see Wayne just ahead of me, stopped to take some pictures. I caught up and we talked a moment. I stopped to replace my camera battery and a few miles later ended up riding together for some miles. He said that Dirk, the other cyclist he'd started out with that morning, was also going faster than him, partially because of the 110 lbs of gear Wayne had on the bike.
Ok, so I have to back up a week. When I was in Sacramento, talking to Micheal on the American River Bike Path, he had mentioned that about 8 hours earlier, he had met a South African man, Dirk, who was going cross country. On the way I had talked to a couple other people who had seen him, and when I first met Wayne on day 8, he had talked to him. I thought there probably wasn't much chance of me catching up to a guy with an 8 hour lead, and with the hours I lost backtracking to Casron City, I knew I'd never get to him. Yet, here I was, less than 30 minutes behind him.
The road was good for speed and the tailwind helped push me along, so I made good time. Eventually, I could make out the tiny fleck of cyclist many miles ahead of me. As I climbed to Pancake Summit (Pancake being a Shoshone word that translates, roughly, to flapjack) I could see that I was gaining on him. He had stopped for water at the top when I pulled up next to him. 'You must be Dirk', I said. He was and how did I know that? I explained that I had basically been following him for a week and was surprised that I had managed to get up to him. As it turned out, he had heard about me too, last night from Wayne. We talked for a bit, and agreed to split a hotel room in Ely, where he had planned to stop for the day.
I needed a break, so as I ate my bran muffin (thanks, again, Kitty) he took off saying we'd meet up in town if not on the road. I gave him my number just in case, but as it turns out, it wasn't necessary, as I managed to catch up to him again as we climbed up to Little Antelope Summit. We ended up riding together most for most of the 25 miles left into town. I break off from his route before Utah as he continues more straight across to DC, but it was nice to share some miles with him. It's refreshing to meet other people at my exact level of crazy.
We got into town, found that the rooms at the historic casino were cheap and each decided to get our own rooms. We left to unpack and freshen up a bit, and that's when we lost each other. It's now the next morning as I write this and I havn't seen him since check in. Shrug. I probably would have gone further last night and camped, but oh well. It was certainly nice to meet a fellow traveler. The bar in the casino even had the Cubs game on, and I wouldn't have gotten that in the tent.
Day 9, Eureka, NV - Ely NV
72.1 miles, 672.7 total. 5:29:38 today for 50:41:42 and I hit a very nice 45.7 on one of the downslopes.
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