Got a ride from a sweet man to the top of the three mile 18% grade hill. (No, it's not cheating because it's not on the route). That started our morning off right. I'm going to have to get creative and find some additional adjectives for "%$#!ing hardest climbing of my life". I have a feeling I may run out before the rockies. The mountains are sublime and there is plenty of rich history to take in. I would like to flesh out this story with some elegantly woven bit about the gold rush and early settlers but, unfortunately, I am oft so delirious from sun and exhaustion, when I get to the little bronze placard that tells the story of this great land, the words jump around and I struggle to retain any knowledge. I'm leaving that to chris, a man who is so interested in the story, he is currently reading "the legend of commodore tom" on the wall of grandma hattie's breakfast joint.
Finally got to descend a pass, discovered I would rather climb than descend. I'm what my dad calls a BOB, or Big 'Ole Baby. I don't want to race motorcycles on a bike.
Ended up in carson city, which is ugly, save the mountains. Ate at grizzlebees, slept in a cheap motel. Made the major mistake of looking at the elevation map for the next two weeks. Slept soundly but must have some masked anxiety because I had to pry my jaw open this morning. Camping next two nights in remote region, possible radio silence. Love you.