Family Lovin', an AMAZING Town, and More Family Lovin'

Day: 53 and 54 (Fallon, NV to Carson City, NV) / (Carson City, NV to Hope Valley Campground, CA)

Average Speed: 11.2 MPH / 8.6 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 65.1 / 37.7

Miles Cycled Total: 3, 654

Mood: Hopped Up / Satisfied

Bike Rack in Carson City

DAY 53

“Carson City is going to be AMAZING,” Jamie said. 

I bit. 

Route- Day 53

I had originally wanted to aim for the town of Genoa, a tiny hamlet 13 miles west of Carson, but as Jamie pointed out, you never know if there’s anything in a small town and everything always closes early. Carson City, on the other hand, was guaranteed to be AMAZING. 

And even though he set off well before me, I caught up quickly. 

Text from Jamie after (Briefly) Leaving Him Behind

Care Package #4

No, it wasn’t a rocket. And I wasn’t fueled by any desire to get to the famous Bunny Ranch just outside of Carson. 

It was another care package from my CVMS family. The faculty at my school has been teaming up for a while now, putting together packages (all of which have contained practical, useful, and entertaining items), and shipping them to towns on my route. They also have an uncanny sense of knowing what I’ve run out of (I had just tossed my deodorant stick  and my snack supply was depleted… but Voila! The package restored everything!).

I Ate Most of the Snacks Already.

 All of these- the latest from Stacey, Tara, and our retired colleague Dan- have been seriously motivational. So much fun to look forward to, tear open, and spread out in front of curious, somewhat horrified onlookers. Really. Thanks CVMS. 

They also make me pedal harder. And… okay… maybe the Bunny Ranch did have something to do with it. I’ve been wanting to take a picture of that place since I first mapped out the route. 

So. So Sad.

But it’s just a crappy, seedy looking bar. 

I didn’t even take a picture because I was sure that couldn’t be the haven that sophisticated perverts from all over the world dream of. I figured it was a knock-off of some sort, like Sunbucks Coffee or Mountain Lightning soda. 

Yuck. In general for those places. Yuck. 

And Carson Shitty… err… City followed suit. With the exception a couple blocks of its downtown, it couldn’t have been blander. 

We split a room at the Days Inn, found a Vietnamese restaurant (my fortune cookie said I would be visited by someone unexpected… hmmm…), and I accidentally fell asleep while wondering what I should write about as the ride for the day was perfectly… meh.

DAY 54

Genoa, on the other hand is AMAZING. 

I'm Going Right to Left... Still... that's a Biggie. 

After waking up at 8 AM- fully clothed and on top of the bedspread, exactly as I had fallen asleep- we packed and set off as quickly as we could. 

It was going to be a big day. 

We had a huge climb ahead of us (see pic), the final summit of the journey, and damned if I was going to spend too much time typing and uploading pictures to make up for a missed blog entry. 

The terrifying trip out of town on the traffic-packed, shoulderless “Loneliest Road in America” eventually led to Genoa (pronounced ja-NO-uh), Nevada’s oldest settlement. 

And that’s where things came to a halt. 

I don’t want to say anything too bad about Nevada, but in my humble opinion… it sucks. The scenery is monotonous, the dank, smoky casinos in each town sadly draw in the last people who should be going there, and there seems to be a general lack of pride for the communities. 

Coincidentally in Today's NYT Crossword.
Okay... Different Genoa... but Still...

Genoa wanted to make sure we were sent off with good vibes. We were both (literally) upset that the town was so perfect. We should’ve stayed there. And we did. For well over two hours. 

It’s also home to the oldest bar (or “Thirst Parlor,” as it’s called) in Nevada, where local, genuine cowboys crowd the place before noontime. As soon as I walked in, two locals tried to buy me a beer, but we hadn’t even started the Major Climb yet, and I had to turn it down. 

Instead one of them- Vern- took me on the tour of the bar. “See that bra hanging on the wall?” he said, “That belonged to Raquel Welch. And there’s a picture of her wearing it too! But you’re too young to know who she is…” 

Raquel Welch's Bra. Now a Decoration.

I corrected him and let him know that as a seventeen-year-old, I thoroughly enjoyed her in a Broadway performance of Victor/Victoria after she had taken over for Julie Andrews and found her rendition of “Le Jazz Hot” positively delightful. 

Vern blinked. 

Inside Nevada's Oldest Thirst Parlor

The hunt for a state sticker to slap on my bike’s frame (these are surprisingly hard to find as the route avoids touristy towns) finally came to an end too at the town’s general store, where Jamie and I lazed on the front porch and entertained some Usual Questions.

At one point, determined to find reasons to stall, I even decided to purchase cat litter from Amazon on my cell (my house-sitters ran out… that’s why… I’m not desperate for cat litter at the moment or anything… I have no problem using nature as it is if need be… please don’t include cat litter in any care package CVMSers). 

And while engrossed in cyber-shopping, a family of six snuck up behind me. 

My family. 

Not Quite Clear Why My Brother-In-Law is Taking the Photo and Jamie Posed in the Pic... but Whatever...

Me and My Sis

Remember that fortune cookie message from the Vietnamese place? I can’t say the visit from my sister and my nieces and nephews was totally unexpected, but it was rather coincidental. They are currently on the way back home from their two-month stint around the states, and they made only the smallest of detours (like, a couple of miles) to find me on the route. 

Esteban, Jandro, Eve, and Erin were- as usual- teeming with energy and I chased them around the parking lot and bought them ice cream, much to their parent’s displeasure. They filled me in quickly- Jandro recently puked and lost a tooth, Esteban went down a rock slide 12 times, Eve loved sand surfing in the dunes, and Erin… well… it was Erin’s birthday.

Which I had no clue about. 

If anyone makes a “World’s Shittiest Uncle” mug, I deserve it. 

But… I totally redeemed myself! 

Scroll Up... She's Cradling it in the Group Photo too!

Moments before they arrived, I found a chewed dog toy in the parking lot and offered it to Jamie as a token of friendship. He accepted it. 

But I un-gifted it and gave it to Erin instead. 

She LOVED it. 

Jamie was sad.

Thank you, Genoa. Even the trash in your parking lot is AMAZING. 

With some goodbyes, some hugs, and a lack of excuses (we seriously considered staying), we crossed the border into California. 

Route- Day 54

States have a tendency to welcome me in with a challenge. And California’s challenge came in the form of a 4,500 foot climb in 116 degree heat (according to Jamie’s Garmin. I think it was more like 109. but I guess it doesn’t matter much at that point). 

One thing I haven’t really brought up much is just how funny Jamie is. He is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and he has me in tears at some point on a daily basis. This doesn’t work too well on a Major Climb though. Belly laughs screw up the breathing rhythm, focus, and balance big time.

That Road Looks Flat. It's Not. It's Very, Very Steep.

I kindly asked him if he could stop with the hilarity anytime we were traveling below 4.5 MPH. 

“You mean anytime you’re making those weird sex noises?” he said. 

It’s even funnier when it’s said with a British accent. 

After that, anytime I grunted due to the steepness (every four pedals or so), I couldn’t help but laugh hard. 

Oh, California. Thank You for Not Being Nevada.

What a jerk. 

We also realized that we’re in no hurry. We’re likely going to make our goal ahead of our projected time. So we rested frequently. And decided to camp halfway through the climb at the Hope Valley Resort (totally not a resort), where- unlike Nevada- there are tall trees that have all agreed to grow in the same direction and the sounds of a creek running down the mountain. 

We’ll finish the climb tomorrow. 

It was a great day. And why ruin it trying to get somewhere that we don't need to go?

And tomorrow, we’ll have an 8,500 foot descent spread out over 60 miles. 

Have you ever cycled downhill for 60 miles?

Neither have I. 

And I can’t wait to tell you about it. 

P.S.

Some things don't change no matter what state you're in...