Mile 767.8 - The road takes us its own ways

Day 10 started in Ely, with the simple goal for the day of getting out of Nevada. While Dirk and I had lost track of each other in the hotel, I caught up to him a few miles out of town in the morning. We rode about 30 miles together, coming to an unmarked crest atop a pair of miles long 6% grades on either side. I wanted to take a break for food, so I climbed off the bike and started to unpack. Dirk pulled up alongside and rested a moment, getting off his bike and taking a few gulps of water. He wanted to ride the slope down, so I enjoyed a brief lunch and stretched a bit before heading on. I took about a 20 minute stop and around 14 miles later, caught up with Dirk again.

As we were closing in on the border, Nevada wanted to show us that it had one more good slope its sleeve. The ramp up to Sacramento Pass starts as a slight grade, the kind one doesn't even notice in a car. After a couple miles of toying with you, it starts in earnest, the last five miles to the top are 6% grade. We would chug along up it with all the speed and grace of an ox-drawn covered wagon, then stop to rest our legs and catch our breath. We didn't do much talking during this part, but kept leapfrogging each other as we paused, the one resting complaining about the slope and headwind and while the one pushing forward grunted back in agreement. No matter which direction the road turned, we seemed to always be headed straight into wind, and it only got more fierce closer the top.

On the way, we passed a ranch with a gate made entirely out of antlers. Whether it's considered decorative in this part of the country or not, I find a bone gate to be creepy. A little further up, and I came to a small herd of cows just off the side of the road. I had 30some cows a silently staring at me as I slowly pedaled past them. I think I confuse cows, and this was neither the first nor the most recent time I've had that thought.

I surged forward the last 3/4s of a mile and finally made it to the Sacramento Pass at 7154'. I had now gone 726.5 miles. Dirk had fallen behind a ways back, so I waited for him at the top. The wait seemed to drag on longer than I expected, but because there was a curve a quarter mile from the top, I couldn't see how far down he was. Eventually he came into view walking his bike. His rear tire had gone flat, so now he needed to unload all the weight from the bike to fix the flat. He told me to continue, so we shook hands, wished each other well and I took off down the last downslope in Nevada.

Dirk's path carried him further down highway 6 & 50 through Utah towards Colorado. When planning my route I found a way that looked a lot flatter on the map. A couple passes, but a generally easier looking way to get to Provo, and from there up to Park City and out into Wyoming. My friends, the easier looking way is not always the best. My last turn in Nevada, and first since Carson City, was onto White Pine County Road 41, about 10 miles past the pass. The pavement wasn't great, but the road angled up toward the state line and then toward Gandy and Trout Creek. After about a mile, the road went from not great pavement to marginal pavement. Then, half a mile later, it gave up altogether and became a gravel road. Now, two days after I made that left turn, I realize I should have turned around then and just stayed on 6/50. Anyway, at mile 746.2 I crossed from Nevada into Utah, 57 hours and 2 minutes since I started in San Francisco. I also crossed my first time zone line on a bike.

Any hope that at the state line the road would become paved, or that it would coming into the town of Gandy, proved false. 21.5 miles past the state line, having gone from the minor unpaved road to the clearly more major unpaved road, I entered Gandy. I knew I did because the sign said so, though it was less apparent from the surroundings. There were a couple ranches on the horizon and a crossroad a little ways into 'town'.

I had noticed a couple times before, but three times along this road a large bird of prey would follow above and slightly behind me for a while. At first I assumed it was showing off its speed or grace, or trying to decide if I was worth the trouble of trying to catch before it flew off. But by now I had figured out why all these birds were following me. The sound of the tires would startle small lizards and rodents from their hiding spots. The birds were following me until they saw a small critter run from the roadside, then bank sharply and dive. Twice I saw birds come up with something, the third time it apparently missed, but had seen some tastier morsel a little further away from the road and went after that. So, birds, I hope you enjoyed your meals. And small lizards and rodents, sorry, didn't mean to make you die like that. If you just stayed cool and let me pass, the bird would have kept following me. But I guess that's a little late now.

With dusk rapidly approaching, I found a sheltered spot by the Gandy crossroads between an empty tanker truck and a pasture full of cows. As I pitched the tent, a few tentative raindrops started to fall. I pulled Penny under the truck to keep her from the rain and from the safety of my tent, listened to the cows complaining about the weather as night fell.

Day 10, Ely, NV - Gandy, UT
95.6 miles, 767.8 total. Wheels spun for 8:23:37 today, for a total of 59:15:06, top speed 38.2