Day 6 - Overton, NV to Bishop, CA

Day 6 -
Woke up after having heat/dehydration problems the day before in my hotel in Overton, Nevada. It's about 45 minutes on the supersonic freeway from there to Las Vegas, then another killer high-speed 170+ miles to the turn-off toward Bishop. I was still feeling out of sorts and weak physically, even with the hot shower and good night's rest. Was hoping to beat the heat through the Nevada desert, at least to Vegas, but it was already pretty warm when I stepped outside.

Today I would ride without my heavy protective gear, and promised to stop every hour for water or Gatoraide/Poweraide. Which I actually did throughout the day. I also ate food more regularly, although my appetite was non existent. I put sunscreen on the exposed parts, which with long sleeve shirt, helmet, gloves are few. I hydrated up even before starting, and made war once again with the blasting Nevada desert winds and big rig truckers.

It was noticeably warmer than yesterday, and at first I had worries how I'd fare in such a weakened condition. But the Idaho stock proved strong enough, and after almost an hour, I was having lunch and hydration break in Las Vegas.

I was urinating regularly and normally today, which was a hopeful sign. Even though I wasn't thirsty every time, I force fed an entire bottle of poweraide at each stop. Food was breakfast burrito at Carl's, and it was dry. I could only eat half, but had pretty good coffee (yes, I know it's a diuretic, but I function better with than without and drank extra water to offset)

The blast from there up I-95 north was still hot, and those endless long mountain ranges with no cities or services for "the next 130 miles". That's all beautiful and majestic from an air-conditioned Winnebego, but on a bike alone at high speeds in the heat with no salvation for over an hour or more...well, it is dang difficult and probably dangerous but I saw quite a few other bikers coming the othe way, but noticed they were most always traveling in pairs.

It was busy road, and I knew I could flag down help if something happened. But that heat/dehydration stuff comes on fast, and I was lucky yesterday that civilization was so close. I ate to ponder how that would go down on those long interstate stretches far from anything or any shade even. I was lucky to have picked this time of year; two weeks from now would be a lot worse.

My butt did fine this entire trip. But with no days off to rest my muscles, my shoulders and neck were stiffening up and hurting. The shower massage at the hotel was once again a salvation for those sore muscles. By the time I reached the (unknown to me) gas station before the turnoff toward Bishop, my shoulders were hurting steadily at the neck.

I still had all the LED lights on my gas meter full, even though I'd traveled over 100miles since the last fill up. I thought I'd learned the lesson to top off at little towns, even if you don't think you need to. But this time, I just answered questions on my travels to fellow passers by and drank a full gatoraide. This was the only time on the trip that I failed to obey that rule, and it proved to be cause for great concern as it seemed a long way still up I-95 before the turn off.

I realized my potential mistake as I was on the road, and kept to the speed limit in case there was no services at the turn off to the mountain pass. Of course, the speed limit was still 70mph, so couldn't exactly lope. By the time I got to the turn off, the first two LEDs had gone away. Of course, it was just a turn off; nothing there. And the road was like a one lane rough-paved road that had not a sole on it except me. The climb across the long valley leading up to the foothills was beautiful, and it had cooled off a bit. It was really an excellent motorbike road, as long as the tank's full.

Unfortunately, mine would soon show it was on reserve, and I wasn't going to make it over the mountains. And I was too far to turn back, as I wouldn't make it all the way to that last gas station back on the highway. I was committed now.

I slowed to about 45 or 50, in top gear; my maximum gas savings mode. I decided to not stress it, and just enjoy the beautiful scenery. I had my camping gear, and even though I'd seen not one other car since turning off, I figured I'd just camp by the bike until I could flag someone down and pay or coax them to bring me back gas. I made up my mind there was no way I was leaving the bike.

The slow climb into the foothills was really nice, and the smell turned from desert to high forest. This is one road that leads past the White Mountains scientific station at the top. I needed to climb a 7,500 ft peak, and I was down to one indicator wondering when the reserve light would begin flashing. It was nice to finally get some curves worthy of a motorbike, but I was limited in my throttle twisting tendencies by my need to conserve fuel. Up the mountains I putted.

[ continued in next post ]