Connecticut to California – Day 17 – August 28, 2000

Well, I discovered today – that the book lied.

The book said The Loneliest Road in America ends in Ely, Nevada – but it doesn’t.

On the road at 7:30 this morning – continuing east on Route 50 – and believe it or not – this part of the road is far lonelier than yesterday.  There is hardly any traffic – and I can go 15 or 20 minutes without seeing another living thing.  It is just me and the Valkyrie – crossing the desert – even the birds seem to have deserted this place.  I notice the subtle changes again today – this desert is a series of valleys – if you consider 5,000 foot elevation to be a valley – interspersed with hills up to 7,000 feet followed by another valley.  But each pass that I cross is different – and each valley is different – but I have to pay close attention to see it.

I find myself wondering – how does one Black-Eyed Susan wind up along side this desert road.  What act of nature transported this seed to this place – and what act of nature sustains it?

Before leaving Nevada, I just have to wind the Valk up to its maximum speed – I’m curious how fast it will go pulling the trailer – and the long straight road – with no traffic is the ideal place to check it out.  Triple digits pulling 250 lbs. of trailer.

The desert continues into Utah – until the little towns of Hinckley and Delta.  There is water here – and the desert blooms in these two little towns.

Route 50 runs onto I-15 and I 70 as it works its way east – and I soon discover that there is nothing subtle about Utah.  Here I found “purple mountain majesties” and brown and white and red too – and I swear that even the bottoms of the clouds are pink.  I can’t imagine how it could be – perhaps its just an old man’s fading eye site – but I could swear that the deep red sandstone reflects the sunlight back up into the clouds – giving them a pinkish color.

The Utah landscape comes at you with a vengeance.  It slaps you in the face with its stark beauty.  It demands your attention – with startling shapes and colors – huge canyons gouged out of its surface and shear cliffs rising up as if to say, “Here I am.”

It cannot be compared to Yosemite or Yellowstone – yet it stirs my soul.

Crossing the Colorado border – I can see the Rockies in the distance.  Gunnison, The Garden of the Gods and the Peak-to-Peak Scenic Highway wait for me there, but I have traveled Utah – and will always be haunted by it.

The bike trip meter says 482.9 the Garmin III+ trip meter says 497.4 and I say Goodnight  from Montrose, Colorado.

Connecticut Yankee in Yosemite Valley- the Trek
PAGES
Index 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22