Miles 737 to 856, 119 miles (2nd Century, first back to back centuries), 1,450 feet of climb, max speed: 28 mph, avg speed 15 mph
The first view of the Great Salt Lake Basin was jaw dropping. The wind was up when we saw it for the first time, and I-80 disappeared on the horizon in a salt storm as the basin seemed to be hovering ten feet above the desert floor. The temperature immediately rose 20 degrees from the elevations we had been riding at. Yet this morning brought new hope. At dawn we started east down the historic path of the Pony Express and the California Trail with a brisk wind from the northwest that pushed on our left shoulders. The temperature was not too hot, not too cold this morning, but oh the sun! It was so bright that none of us could look down the road as the reflection off the salt made a perfect ‘white out’ condition. Only two of the 24 riders actually saw the Welcome to Utah sign because it was too high to look for. Our foreheads were facing the pavement to save our sight for later.
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| Whose bright idea was it to ride through 120 miles of this? |
I don’t know if I would have completed the ride today if it wasn’t for Al. From the casino parking lot where we started to the front door of our hotel tonight he stayed with me. It was no secret that I was exhausted from yesterday, but there was no turning back or way points between here and there. There were two scheduled stops for water and peanut butter sandwiches at 40 miles and 90 miles designed to break up the over 100+ miles on the shoulder of I-80. The road shoulder was not smooth (tarred pea gravel) and covered with road litter. What a difference from Nevada! I thought it ironic that we saw no billboards on the side of the road in Nevada for strip joints and lap dances, but once we hit Utah they were common. Nevada was thriving, and properties were neat. Once in Utah the homes and businesses were something that would make rural Alabama look like Beverly Hills. My preconceptions of these states certainly did a flip-flop. During the ride this morning Al told me his life history and over the first 50 or so miles we discussed an outline for a blog/book he was thinking of writing. He constantally talks about this two charming wives that both succumbed to cancer. After the 50 mile marker the wind changed to be against us and we couldn’t hear each other talk.
At Route-Rap tonight we said goodbye to Jim, the mechanic. He was very good and took the time to teach us about our bicycles, not just fix them. I hope his replacement will be half the mechanic Jim was for us. Jim also rode several of the days with us and was no slouch in the saddle.  |
Crossing the Great Salt Lake Basin
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Bottom Line: I am so exhausted and don’t know what hurts the most. Sunburnt lips certainly is a contender.
When Brigham Young came over the mountain, he didn't say "this is the promised land". He sai "that's it! We 're not going any further!"
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