I awoke this morning at dawn (5:18) again. It is a maddening habit that I’ve had all my life. Unless I am in a room that is hermetically sealed from sunlight I usually wake up at dawn, no matter what time went to sleep at night. I have always envied people who can sleep through past sunrise.

In one respect it was a good thing. I was able to proof read a proposal for a project in Samoa which had arrived the night before via cyberspace along with a slew of other messages. Fortunately, my staff are screening most things and only the difficult ones come my way. So don’t send me any messages that are not for public consumption!

I packed up the bike and was out the door by 8 a.m. I had decided to indulge myself in a hot breakfast so went up the road to ‘Smileys’ the local eatery. Those who have not had the pleasure of choosing breakfast in the USA will have no idea how spoiled for choice one is. Three different types of pancakes (Buttermilk, Oat and Bran). Eggs that are scrambled, poached, sunny side up. Bacon, ham, steak, beans. And combinations of them. Included is a bottomless cup of coffee. All up, the menu measured about the size of an A3 page and was very full. As a vegetarian I was in for pancakes but I decided to also get scrambled eggs. With all the work I’m doing I need extra protein that I may not be getting. I also had an orange juice. Like most things here, size matters and although I got a small it was more than ample. The large must have been pushing a litre.

Another aspect of these sorts of restaurants are booths. They don’t seem to be popular elsewhere as they are in the USA which is a pity as they are such a pleasure. You can spread out along the bench and take up as much space as you like. Also good for being friendly with the girls. But not on this trip.

I enjoyed people watching and the restaurant quickly filled up. The waitress carried 5 plates on two arms which was as impressive a display of balance as I’ve ever seen. She said that in the summer the staff increases by a factor of 5 over winter and I can see why. The place was booming. I ate quickly and left a tip before heading on my way. Tipping is a necessary element of any dining experience here due to the poor wages staff are paid. Shame they aren’t given a living wage like in NZ.

It was then over to the shop to stock up on food for the trip. Bought some vegetarian beans as well as raisins, dates, figs and some granola bars. Also some more suntan lotion which was over twice the price of Fairfax. Well, we are in the desert.

Then it was southwards along 395 where I would turn east on 120. It was an experience to say the least. And not a pleasant one. The three things, besides traffic, that bother cyclists the most are:

Having just come from the mountains to the foothills I was now faced with the first two: hills and wind. Not just any wind mind you, but probably the strongest wind I have ever experienced cycling. It reminded me of the time that Lis and I were atop of Mt. Ruapehu and were able to lean over and be supported from falling by the wind. I was on a slight downgrade (3%) and I was in the same gear I was using to ascend the 8% grades peddling like mad and only doing 8 km/h! I consoled myself that it was at least sunny and not raining. After battling for almost an h I covered the 8 km and turned onto 120. This is what I saw. The road stretched towards the hills. Behind me were the mountains I had crossed (next photo).

The road followed the south end of Mono Lake. This is an important stopover for migratory birds but unfortunately, in 1942 Los Angeles (335 miles away) decided that it was an ideal source for water so they diverted 4 of the 6 streams feeding the lake. As a result the lake has dropped precariously. Recently, environmentalists won a court battle and it has been raised by 17’. It reminded me of the Caspian Sea where it has dropped by so much that ports are now in the middle of desert. My man destroys nature … It was fascinating to see the wind cross the lake and create ripples in the surface. At the north end it created a dust storm as you can see below.

The road alternated between pine forests and desert/scrub. It was amazing that anything could grow in such sandy soil and it is a testament to the robustness of pines that there were forests at all. In some places there was a single tree surrounded by sand. At one stage the forests were much denser and I found a historical marker showing where a mill once was which cut timber for the railway and fuel. It ceased operations 80 years ago and this explained the absence of large trees in the forest. The two photos below show the contrast that I cycled through.

I found the going quite hard which surprised me. I kind of expected that my fitness would have been such that it wouldn’t have been too bad. However, I eventually found the reason why as the sign below shows. I had ascended again to over 8000’ from the 6500’ at Lee Vining. Made me feel a bit less like a wuss.

From the summit it was a downhill run of the type which (almost) made up for the morning’s efforts. There was hardly any traffic (20 cars/h – I counted) so I didn’t need to worry about being hit. The only disconcerting thing was the view in the distance. More mountains!

Although I was through the Sierra I still have more mountains to cross. What a drag. Until then it was downhill with another of these wheeeeeee runs. Smile from ear to ear. The road was in good condition (except for lots of temperature induced transverse cracking which I won’t bore you with) and the absence of traffic made it such fun. I entered a valley area with rocks on either side. A rich red like the Red Fort in Delhi is made of.

I stopped and had lunch by the side of the road and put on more suntan lotion. I decided to cycle sans helmet as there was no traffic and it was quite hot. From there the road was uphill (again!) with the terrible headwind. You can get a picture of what it was like from below. It was literally grit ones teeth and push on, at the marvellous speed of 12 km/h – if I was lucky. Very hot and dry so went through a lot of water.

Part way along the road I came to a historical marker which had the tolls they charged in the 1850s for use of the road. $1 for a cart with 2 horses. What I can’t believe is that someone would sit in such a forsaken place and try and collect a toll. Life must have been so hard for the pioneers.

The road became even harder with hills and dips. The latter were never long enough to get momentum up for the next hill so it was down into the lowest gear. It was at the top of one of these that I met Charlie – a hiker. He left the Colorado/New Mexico border in March and had made it this far. He was on his way North to the ghost town of Billings. I was impressed. He said that he walks between water holes and I was incredulous that water could be found in this place, but sure enough it was marked on his map. I offered him some of mine just in case but he declined. I think he is writing a book since he took my photo as I approached and said it would be in there as the ‘mad cyclist’. He’s one to talk.

He was quite the character, bedecked in his khaki bush coat with this huge pack. On one knee he had an elastic bandage which was connected to an odometer. He told me it was 4 miles to the hot springs and it proved to be a very accurate estimate. He was very dark from the sun and quite dirty, not that I am one to point fingers! Without Lis here I am not as fastidious about cleaning since there is nobody to complain.

Shortly after meeting Charlie it was up the final grade and from there down 1500’ to Benton Hot Springs and Benton. I had been toying with the idea of stopping at the hot springs but decided to press on which was a good idea. The wind was still strong but now was transformed to a side wind instead. It was hard staying upright and I was thankful that there was little traffic. If I fell over the damage would mainly be to my pride instead of being squashed by some vehicle.

There was a café in Benton which I stopped at. The (very fat) proprietor informed me that all they sold was hamburgers and fries with doughnuts for desert. That possibly explained his size. I told him no problems. I would have a cheeseburger without the meat. He looked slightly confused but happily acquiesced when I said that I would pay the regular price. It was quite tasty so I ordered a second one and they were washed down with some of the excellent orange juice one can get here.

An elderly woman ordered a real cheeseburger and we chatted. She told me the town I was planning on getting water at in Nevada no longer existed so I would have to get it at the pass where there was a café, hotel and casino. All in one. Two indian woman came in (twins?) and were quite friendly. Asked one of those profound questions one often gets: ‘isn’t it hard cycling with all that gear?’ No, actually it is easier with 10 kg of kit an 8 kg of water than were I without. That question was beat by the cowboy who seeing me ride up said ‘Are you cycling?’. They breed them bright in Nevada.

I was able to download my digital photos and feeling refueled I headed North towards Nevada. I had been looking forward to the head wind becoming a tail wind but wouldn’t you know that it pretty well died out when I headed north. Still, it wasn’t a headwind!

Highway 6 had lots of traffic-at least compared to 120- but the shoulders were wide and the surface smooth so it was a pleasure to cycle. I passed the California inspection station and then it was into Nevada!

It was a 24 km ride from Benton to the top of Montgomery Pass and I ascended by about 1500’. Had I not already travelled 85 km under hard conditions to Benton I mightn’t have found it so difficult. But it was. I huffed and puffed my way up. Stopping regularly to check the sites, catch my breath, and have some water. What I do when feeling stonkered like this is to cycle 1-2 km, stop, have water, and continue uphill. Breaks it into more doable chunks. The photo below looks back ove the valley. The hills are what I cycled though all day and you can see the road on the valley floor. Was I ever pleased to see the sign in the next photo.

Went to the café and had blueberry pie. Too sweet but the water was appreciated. Called the office in NZ and the Muirs and then chatted with some truck drivers taking monitors from Mexico to Oregon. They were travelling in a convoy of 3 and had seen me on the hill.

They were pleased when I commented about how much more comfortable I am with trucks than RVs and they concurred. They are also afraid of them. I mentioned all the RV mirrors I saw along the roadside in Yosemite and they had a chuckle. They said that their rigs are worth $USD 100,000 and get 6 miles/gallon. Trivia yes, but interesting to know (for me).

There was a most interesting couple at the next table. Bedecked in cowboy gear, he looked like someone from the 19^th century with an unkempt, long flowing beard. I was surprised to see him sitting with a blonde bimbo type but when I saw her from the front I realised that she was 60 going on 20 (or trying to be). It was quite sad. She had an old woman’s face but had it painted beyond description. Her eye brows were nothing but a thin painted line and she had these huge round ear rings, almost big enough to do the Chinese magic ring trick. Quite a sight.

I asked the waiter where I could camp and after conferring with a woman suggested the rest stop down the hill. ‘That’s where the bordello [he employed a more graphic term] used to be. Gone but definitely not forgotten’. I had forgotten that along with gambling prostitution is legal here. I cycled by it and didn’t stop as I was having one of those wheeeeeee runs. I was finally getting back on all those uphill sections. Over 15 km without a pedal at speeds of 40 km/h. It was great. By now it was 19:00+ but the temperature was fine and so I just continued on. My goal was to get as far as was reasonable and find some place to camp.

The descent was through flat country to either side of the road. I wanted to have somewhere secluded so that any crazies wouldn’t find me. The terrain was not conducive to this and I began to get worried as I approached the valley floor. It would be even more difficult there.