I’m sitting here in the tiny town of Gabbs (pop. 347), Nevada after riding an even 100 miles today. Gabbs is so small the man who runs the grocery had to call the lady who runs the motel to come unlock a room for me to use. But after two days camping in the sagebrush this room looks great. And a mere $35.

Did I mention sagebrush? Lord, this state has a lot of sagebrush! I’ll post pictures as soon as I can: Day 1 in Nevada was heat and sagebrush and some long mountain climbs. Day 2: Same, only more long climbs. Day 3: Same, only a stretch of 70 miles without any services. Day 4: Less sagebrush, more dusty landscape.

Two days ago I passed the 4,000 mile mark. And today, at a lunch break at Cold Springs (it’s on the map but it’s basically a bar and motel with 50 miles of empty landscape to the east and west), the waitress and I did a little math.

I’ve burned about 250,000 calories on this trip.


Typical Nevada scenery. 



Sagebrush in bloom.


Sunburned hands.


For several days now I’ve been pedaling along Highway 50, which locals proudly call “The Loneliest Highway in America.” The towns are picturesque; but there isn’t much evidence of growth. In Eureka, for example, the hardware store was closed up and for sale. In Austin there’s no real grocery.

So today, I turned south along Highway 361, bending toward Yosemite National Park. I’m personally ready to nominate 361 as “The Bleakest Highway in America.” In 36 miles, coming into Gabbs, I saw ZERO houses.

ZERO.


Still, I keep meeting nice people. A Missouri couple invited me to eat breakfast with them in Eureka and a lady at the auto parts store gave me her tweezers to take along after I explained that I had a sliver of metal embedded in my back tire. 

Next time I ride across the USA, I’m carrying tweezers!

I also rode briefly with Rick Arnett, going west across the USA, like me. He’s been on the road for four months, hopes to do 12,000 miles, be gone a full year, and write a book about it all. Unfortunately, he was prone to walk his bike up the steepest grades. So, after exchanging a few stories and taking each other’s pictures, I pedaled away alone.


Rick Arnett hoped to write a book. He was getting over a divorce.


Just me and the sagebrush.

And roughly 650 calories burned every hour.


The next morning, I discovered I had a herniated tire.

These fine people at the only cafeteria in town, helped me find a ride to Reno.

Got a new tire, and off I went again.