Dating elko nevada 42
You can spend as much money as you want on specialized gear to get your bike equipped for trips like this: special racks, frame-mounted bags, etc.
Ultimately our rigs just boiled down to strapping tents, sleeping bags, sleeping pads and tarps to our bikes, loading food into panniers (bike-speak for “saddlebags”), and pedaling forth into the wilds of the I-80 corridor east of Elko.
Standing on that ridge we were surrounded by lupine flower buds, just a week or so away from opening into stalks of purple flowers.
Independence Valley spread out beneath us, cut across on the left by the thin dual lines of the interstate cutting a geometrically perfect line to the first horizon more than ten miles distant.
It was replaced, transformed, or circumnavigated section by section by the hulking four-lane-divided I-80 from 1956 to 1986.
Where 40 hugs the landscape, I-80 blasts through it with road cuts and tunnels.
We bombed down, bags and tents and jaws rattling as we let the bikes and gravity take control of our fate as we held on with white-knuckled hands.
At one fortunate turn in the path we are able to self-arrest enough to dismount before the next yet-more-steeper- plunge and walk our bikes down.
I saw the writing on the wall and, not wanting to be left behind, followed suit much more cheaply by getting a mountain bike from craigslist and upgrading it with another 0 of new components.
Small rises became interspersed with the downhills and soon we found ourselves swooping down rolling slopes, grins painted across our faces as the mountain became a roller coaster.
Soon, we were dodging cow pies in what was obviously rangeland.
I passed off my keys to one of his coworkers who drove my car back to Elko.
We would follow the remnants of Old US-40 and unmarked two-track and cattle roads over the formidable Pequop mountains, across wide Independence Valley, pass through Wells, Nevada, and then snake beside the serpentine course of the Humboldt River until we arrived in Elko.We came to our first ranch gate of the trip, and one of us wrestled the barbed-wire-strung post open, let the other pass through, and then wrestled it back closed. ” process about twenty more times in the next twenty four hours, always heeding that most important bit of Nevada etiquette: if you pass through a gate - open or closed - leave it as you find it.