Day 15: To Rawlins: 99 mi: 3323’ climbing

Winds.  That’s the word of the day.  I’m fried.

Rising at 3am I got dressed, but didn’t need every single layer, as the night hadn’t gotten too cold.  Stepping out of the tent to grab a pop-tart and two bars for breakfast, lighting to the west lit up the sky.  While I knew it was far away, it still tanked my brain seeing the thunderheads flash in the sky.  I forced myself to eat the two bars and the pop-tart, knowing I’d need all the energy I could get today.

Everything moves slower in the dark, but I was able to get packed and rolling by 3:45, a slight headwind already blowing, my dynamo light creating funny patterns with the washboarded gravel road.  Reading the road by dynamo light is much different than in the day, and I struggled to find the best line.  My tire tracks left behind in the gravel probably looked like a drunk had been out there biking.

It’s hard to measure the passage of time and distance in the dark, all of your focus on the narrowly lit tunnel forward.  A pronghorn scared the bejeezus out of me, suddenly leaping out of the dark and through my light tunnel, there and gone before I could do anything besides swear at it after it was gone into the dark again.

Slowly the eastern sky began to brighten and the clouds took shape as the stars disappeared.   Suddenly the road was filled with glowing pairs of eyes, hundreds of them!  Blobby shapes with legs emerged and my complete field of view was dominated by hundreds of sheep, who had been sleeping in the road, that all started to run.  Slowing so as to not hit any of the glowing eyed fluff monsters, I found myself inhaling the dust from the stampede, imagining my lungs filling with sheep poop.  But it passed.

Spinning through the ever brightening sky, the slight headwind making me work and keeping me warm, time passed quickly.  Remembering the long day ahead, I forced myself to stop, eat, and stretch in the middle of the road.  Riding again, the miles seemed to barely pass by, and I felt like I was always climbing.  Both my knees were angry at me this morning.  And with the sky showing itself I could see multiple storms surrounding me.  It seemed inevitable that I’d get wet today.  I passed a group of 4 NOBOs who appeared to be just getting out of their tents.  We waved as I passed.

At 8:20 I’d covered just over 41 miles and arrived at the A&M Reservior, just in time as my 3L bladder just went dry.  I chugged the 1L extra water bottle I had strapped to my fork yesterday in Pinedale, then filled everything up with fresh water and treated with iodine.  I leaned against the sign and ate Cheese-It’s, resting for the next bit, keeping an eye on the ever changing pockets of rain around me.

Here the trail turned nearly straight south, aiming me directly into one of those pockets of weather.  Oh man I though to myself… how horrible will these roads get once they get wet?! Luckily, the route turned back east after a few miles and I tried to out distance between myself and the storm.  The wind began to pick up and my brain started to wither from the repetition of the riding.  I put headphones in and distracted myself, pedaling as hard as I sustainably could to keep myself away from the rain behind me.

The climbs in this section aren’t steep, but gentle and long… which means on gravel… exhausting.  I finally reached a major turn and high point, heading south and down… right into the charging headwind.  I turned my volume up, shifted to my big ring, tucked down into the aero bars (thanks to smooth gravel here), and made good time down for 13ish miles to the paved Mineral Exploration Rd.  Turning east, this old dilapidated road, serving the uranium, oil, and gas installments further west, wove its way east and then southeast, generally working upwards.  The more south it turned, the harder the wind blew against me.  My headphones could go no louder.

This is where I started to give out.  The sun intensified, which had the added benefit of seeming to burn off many of the clouds and rain pockets that I’d been worried about, but really started to wear on my energy.  That and the wind.  No coasting ever.  Just keep pedaling.  I would pedal for 10 minutes, then stop and just stand over my bike- staring at the endlessly long road shimmering in the heat.  I forced myself to stop and eat, drink, and stretch to break up the pattern.  The last 6 miles were perfectly straight, with the busy highway and next turn visible… it took forever to get there.

Finally getting off the road, with a short granola bar break and rest, I made the last turn of the day and began the long climb up to the continental divide before descending into Rawlins, 18 miles away still.  This turn pointed me even more directly into the wind.  The climb up was uneventful- just long and boring, but a good shoulder and the slope seemed to block some of the winds power.  I passed two more Continental Divide hikers along the way, bringing the total since Pinedale to 6.  The descent did not exist.  If I did not pedal, the wind would stop me.  

That last 10 miles took absolutely forever.  Rolling into Rawlins, I passed another SOBO rider and we swapped Great Basin stories before heading our separate ways.  He had taken a half day off and was just getting started. My eyes found the grocery store right in front of me and I pulled over right away.  I ate a sandwich, yogurt, sweet tea, and some other juice thing.  It was refreshing, and it was then that I realized how fried I was.  

I’d made reservations at the KOA, which was another 2 miles away- at the top of a steep hill.  Barf.  But I made it and gloriously hit the stop button around 3pm on the Garmin at 99 miles, then quickly got myself out of my sweaty bike diaper.

Now having rested a bit, eaten a meal in town, and had a chance to think about it all… I wouldn’t do the Great Basin this way again.  220 miles in 2 days, with gravel of ever changing quality, winds, climbing…  Pushing so hard kinda ruined it and made it hard to enjoy.  The first day, 122 miles from Pinedale to about 15 miles past Diaganus Well, was absolutely beautiful, but if I was going to do it again I’d have stopped at the well.  Then, taken a short day to the A&M Aquifer and camped there , which has quite a few good spots to do so, then a last day finishing up to Rawlins.

Tomorrow I have a short day.  I’m going to sleep in, head to the grocery store to resupply, and roll out in no hurry.  My eyes are burning and I’m ready to sleep now at 6:45.  Soon.