I am finally using a human-sized keyboard today. It's awfully refreshing. I'm writing you from the public library in Fallon, Nevada. Last night Chris and I slept in a county fairgrounds much like the Ohio State Fair Grounds, except considerably smaller and filled with hobos, and rapscallions. Yesterday's ride was downhill and easy. This is the last time I will type a sentence like that for the next two states. What lies ahead could be a little tricky. We have several days in the next week where we will have to ride over 70 miles a day due to the fact that there are no water stops, gas stations or civilization of any kind between cities. We are preparing by buying more water bottles today and filled up our camel backs. We should have approximately 3 1/2 liters per person. So we are confident we will be safe. We also have water filtration if necessary. (I'm sure you've guessed, this part is for my mother. Hi, Mom!)
I must say, I think it's an indication that I lived a privileged and slightly sheltered life when the majority of the west reminds me of Cedar Point or Disney World. "Oh look, it's just like the mine ride!"
No matter now, because I'm entrenched in the real deal. It is dusty. There are real sage brushes, real cowboys, and the last town we road through was called Stagecoach. I have been singing Fievel Goes West for a solid day and a half. Last night, Chris and I ate white bread with nutella (the new road staple) and drank cheap wine out of plastic camping cups. We sat on the bleachers and watched young men practice their cattle wrangling. (I'm sure I'm getting that expression wrong.)
Today is our day off and Chris and I intend to meander about town, picking up important gear for the coming week and planning our stays at various campgrounds. Despite my antsinthepantsyness, I am glad to have a day of rest. We were doing a good job at trucking right along, but we should definitely rest our legs before the coming climbs. I was also starting to notice that our brains had turned mushy in the last two days. When you ride this long and hard, it is honestly hard to make an English sentence. You notice yourself putting all the words in the odd places. Additionally, the aberation that ensues from riding a long day in the heat typically ends with nonsense conversations such as, "Do you feel like you're Sam or Frodo?".
Once again, we may be without contact for several more days, but who is to know. Tomorrow night we will be headed to Middlegate. The accommodations for which are listed on our map: 42500 AUSTIN HWY/SR361, CAMPING ALLOWED BEHIND BUILDING. Sounds nice. I wonder if there's continental breakfast.
All of those desperate to send us food stuffs, please contact us via email (email@example.comfirstname.lastname@example.org) We would be so grateful.
By the way, I'd like to think I'm Sam.
If you ever wondered how groceries get from here to there when you have no car, this is it. I particularly like the looks I get with the bread rig-out.