I was awake at 2.15am, got ready and was on the road just before 3.30am. Already I was quite tired. I'd got to sleep by 7.30pm yesterday evening but a family in the room next door woke me up around 10.30pm. The noise continued for another 90 mins and I just couldn't get back to sleep.
Its dark as I hit the road and will remain so for another two and a half hours. I cycle down the empty main street, over a railway bridge and into the darkness as the street lights rapidly fade away. It feels strange. The only light is the small arc from my own torch tied to the handlebars with elastic bands. I can't see anything either side of me. Five miles down the road a line of bright street lights mark out the small village of Hinckley. There is nobody on the road.
Overhead is a clear sky but no moon. For the first time in America I see a sky full of stars. As I near Hinckley I pass a couple of farmers mowing grass in the fields. Spotlights attached to their tractors illuminate the ground around them. I'm really surprised at how early they are out working. Through Hinckley and I'm into the desert. There isn't anything between here and the Nevada border 90 miles away. I have 6.5 litres of fluids on the bike which adds to the weight I'm carrying.
After an initial unease in the absolute darkness I settle down and begin to enjoy the cycling. The road is deserted so I can cycle in the middle of the road. Any approaching vehicle can be seen for miles before it reaches me. Its funny cycling through an area and not having a clue what lies either side of the road. Back before Hinckley you could smell the grass in the fields, a warm, almost moist smell. Out here it was a dry earthy, dusty smell. Frequently I would glance up at the sky to see the winking lights of a far off plane or the flash of occasional meteorites. Out here there was no sound, no lights. Just the odd rustle of a light breeze in the darkness. It felt so empty.
Slowly light began to ease into the eastern horizon. Gradually, as the darkness receded, I was able to see the surrounding landscape. The barren Sevier desert revealed itself with low mountains bordering the north, south and western horizons. A beautiful dawn rose with hardly a cloud in the sky. The low sun cast a pink shade over the brown slopes of the hills. The air was absolutely still. It was magical.
With the rising light I found that I was cycling close to the shore of the Sevier lake, a dried up saline lake, which fills up during the spring, sometimes to a depth of 30ft, with melting snows which flow down from the surrounding mountains. Through late spring and summer the rising heat evaporates the water leaving the salt flats which I could see. I'm in the Great Basin which encompasses western Utah and Nevada. Most of the rivers here never make it to the sea. Most evaporate. Some drain into underground rivers.
Beyond the Sevier lake the road crossed some low hills and descended into a long, flat valley. Distances are deceptive out here. On first impressions the valley didn't seem all that big. What I thought was a 2-3 miles stretch turned into 5-6 miles. The road ran north through the long valley before turning west and winding its way up through the confusion range of hills. The road entered a tight, narrow canyon on its way up to the summit pass. I was glad I was passing through here early in the day. Its a real heat trap and must be baking hot in the full heat of the afternoon.
The top of the confusion range brought another descent into a wide valley. The road skirted the edge of the Ferguson desert and ran arrow straight for almost 20 miles across this wide valley to the Nevada border. The far side of the valley was marked by high mountains, the largest of which was Mount Wheeler which stands at 13,400ft.
Through that valley I counted down the miles to the border. Here the desert would peter out and the road rise into the mountain country of Nevada. The town of Ely lies a further 63 miles through those uplands. I was feeling tired after 90 miles and not looking forward to that stretch up tp Ely. I began to wonder wht would be the odds of a motel at the border. I already knew there is a petrol station there so in the last few miles I really began to hope there would be rooms there aswell. Slowly but surely the station began to emerge from the land. A distant smudge at the edge of the desert. In the last mile I could see a large sign and slowly the word m-o-t-e-l appeared. Delighted. I was sorted. 90 miles non-stop was a decent days work. I felt good.
I'm now moving into the latter stages of the journey. Only two more states and one more time zone. The Sevier desert was a great experience and dawn this morning, unforgettable. Utah has been a highlight, an amazing land. By no means easy it has pulled at the emotions like no other state so far. Its wilderness, dry, barren in places, surprisingly fertile in others. The route I followed through the middle of this state was truly an adventure I won't forget.
Its dark as I hit the road and will remain so for another two and a half hours. I cycle down the empty main street, over a railway bridge and into the darkness as the street lights rapidly fade away. It feels strange. The only light is the small arc from my own torch tied to the handlebars with elastic bands. I can't see anything either side of me. Five miles down the road a line of bright street lights mark out the small village of Hinckley. There is nobody on the road.
Overhead is a clear sky but no moon. For the first time in America I see a sky full of stars. As I near Hinckley I pass a couple of farmers mowing grass in the fields. Spotlights attached to their tractors illuminate the ground around them. I'm really surprised at how early they are out working. Through Hinckley and I'm into the desert. There isn't anything between here and the Nevada border 90 miles away. I have 6.5 litres of fluids on the bike which adds to the weight I'm carrying.
After an initial unease in the absolute darkness I settle down and begin to enjoy the cycling. The road is deserted so I can cycle in the middle of the road. Any approaching vehicle can be seen for miles before it reaches me. Its funny cycling through an area and not having a clue what lies either side of the road. Back before Hinckley you could smell the grass in the fields, a warm, almost moist smell. Out here it was a dry earthy, dusty smell. Frequently I would glance up at the sky to see the winking lights of a far off plane or the flash of occasional meteorites. Out here there was no sound, no lights. Just the odd rustle of a light breeze in the darkness. It felt so empty.
Slowly light began to ease into the eastern horizon. Gradually, as the darkness receded, I was able to see the surrounding landscape. The barren Sevier desert revealed itself with low mountains bordering the north, south and western horizons. A beautiful dawn rose with hardly a cloud in the sky. The low sun cast a pink shade over the brown slopes of the hills. The air was absolutely still. It was magical.
With the rising light I found that I was cycling close to the shore of the Sevier lake, a dried up saline lake, which fills up during the spring, sometimes to a depth of 30ft, with melting snows which flow down from the surrounding mountains. Through late spring and summer the rising heat evaporates the water leaving the salt flats which I could see. I'm in the Great Basin which encompasses western Utah and Nevada. Most of the rivers here never make it to the sea. Most evaporate. Some drain into underground rivers.
Beyond the Sevier lake the road crossed some low hills and descended into a long, flat valley. Distances are deceptive out here. On first impressions the valley didn't seem all that big. What I thought was a 2-3 miles stretch turned into 5-6 miles. The road ran north through the long valley before turning west and winding its way up through the confusion range of hills. The road entered a tight, narrow canyon on its way up to the summit pass. I was glad I was passing through here early in the day. Its a real heat trap and must be baking hot in the full heat of the afternoon.
The top of the confusion range brought another descent into a wide valley. The road skirted the edge of the Ferguson desert and ran arrow straight for almost 20 miles across this wide valley to the Nevada border. The far side of the valley was marked by high mountains, the largest of which was Mount Wheeler which stands at 13,400ft.
Through that valley I counted down the miles to the border. Here the desert would peter out and the road rise into the mountain country of Nevada. The town of Ely lies a further 63 miles through those uplands. I was feeling tired after 90 miles and not looking forward to that stretch up tp Ely. I began to wonder wht would be the odds of a motel at the border. I already knew there is a petrol station there so in the last few miles I really began to hope there would be rooms there aswell. Slowly but surely the station began to emerge from the land. A distant smudge at the edge of the desert. In the last mile I could see a large sign and slowly the word m-o-t-e-l appeared. Delighted. I was sorted. 90 miles non-stop was a decent days work. I felt good.
I'm now moving into the latter stages of the journey. Only two more states and one more time zone. The Sevier desert was a great experience and dawn this morning, unforgettable. Utah has been a highlight, an amazing land. By no means easy it has pulled at the emotions like no other state so far. Its wilderness, dry, barren in places, surprisingly fertile in others. The route I followed through the middle of this state was truly an adventure I won't forget.
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