By Pico Triano
The week on the road from Reno, Nevada to Salt Lake City Utah back in 1986 was the driest tour ever for me. If not for the experience gained while going to college in Southern California and some helpful information from friends familiar with the route I followed, I’m not sure I would have been successful.
I spent the weekend prior to departure staying with Leroy
and Yong Abolinas in Reno. They were another great example of the hospitality I
have found travelling. They made sure that I saw the sights and was refuelled
for the next leg of my journey. I’d been introduced to them through friends I
had met a week earlier. Nice meeting all these people but hard to say goodbye.
They made me promise to contact other friends when I got to Salt Lake City so
that I’d have a place to stay when I got there. I made the promise even though
by myself I’m good with just wilderness camping as I go.
The first day out of Reno had to be the toughest even though
I was well rested. It was hot and dry and the cistern for public drinking water
at the Forty-Mile Desert rest area was dry as a bone. I’m grateful that I had
been warned about that by some acquaintances from church that weekend. All my
water bottles were full and I had bought several very large cans of fruit
juice. There was a convenience store at the next interchange and I managed to
get there without running low on fluids. That could have been a very serious
situation.
I rode very well after that putting together my first ever
back-to-back century rides. Travelling the same road day after day had other
advantages as well. I had lunch in a truck stop, where the local truckers gave
me much appreciated weather reports. A lot of those drivers ride regularly
between those two cities and I think they’d pretty much adopted me by the time
my second day was complete. I remember one honking and waving early in the
morning as I stretched right after getting out of my tent. Those honks and
waves would come periodically throughout the day. Nice to know the big boys are
on your side.
I stayed a night in a roadside rest that allowed
overnighters past Battle Mountain. The RVers who also overnighted there let me
know that I wouldn’t be disturbed. That was another moment where I didn’t feel
quite so alone out there.
In Carlin, NV Olympic silver medallist Rebecca Twigg’s
mother checked my groceries at the store. We had a good chat. She invited me to
stay the night in her backyard but I declined because I had to be in Salt Lake
City for the weekend. That would have knocked me too far behind schedule. I
grew up around the block from Canadian cyclist Steve Bauer who won silver at
the same Olympics. That had met - small world.
Carlin also featured a dreaded obstacle though; a tunnel in
the freeway through a mountain. I hate those. I wait until I can’t see any
traffic coming for as far as I can see and then make a break for it. Pedalling
like a madman I hope to be out the other side before traffic reaches me. There
is less room to ride inside and right near the entrance drivers will be
temporarily blinded. I don’t want to be road kill before their eyes adjust.
Entering Utah and seeing the Bonneville Salt Flats for the
first time was a sight worth seeing. The salt is as white as snow and it is as
flat as can be. After pedalling over a lot of mountains that was welcome.
My last challenge though was getting to Salt Lake City.
Great Salt Lake in 1986 was way over its banks. My beloved Interstate 80 had
turned into a causeway. I wasn’t sure I was going to get to dry land to camp
before dark. I did but it was a near thing.
The following day I got in touch with the people who were
supposed to put me up for the weekend. They actually drove out to give me
directions. Alex was house sitting for someone and I got to stay with him. They
told me I lost five years in the shower. I guess I was a bit gamy when I got
there.
In retrospect, I would have bought lighting for my bike and
done a lot of my desert riding at night. The sun and heat took a lot out of me.
Interstate 80 had very wide paved shoulders and I think I could have night
toured safely. A headlamp would have allowed me to avoid running over
rattlesnakes in the dark. I had to take precautions concerning them anyway.
When I set up my tent I would always make sure something jammed all the holes
so nothing could join me in my sleeping bag. I also slept on top of picnic
tables when I could. I don’t know whether that really was a good idea but I’d
heard tell it was a safer way to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment