Just Deserts

I'm somewhat getting the hang of rising before dawn and rolling as early as possible to beat the heat. I left the motel in Barstow at 6:30 am with just a coffee and a Bavarian Cream donut in my stomach since nothing was open except the donut shop. A small road went out to the northern fringes of town avoiding the business associated with a junction of two Interstate highways, but at a main intersection I found a gas station food mart that allowed me to have a more substantial breakfast.

It was shaping up to be a nice morning, and although the sun was promising a hot day, the early breeze was still cool and at my back. To top it off, my route was on a mostly downhill slope and I was cruising along on top gear. It's beautiful to witness the way the colours of the desert change, from the purples and pinks in the early morning to the vivid yellows and browns against a brightening blue sky.

I continued to follow an old side road parallel to the freeway, which first started out as a nice surface but gradually turned worse as I went along.  About 10 kilometres to where it was supposed to merge with the Interstate, I saw a "Road Closed Ahead" sign which I foolishly ignored.  A few kilometres later on a badly deteriorated surface, I was faced with a full on road barricade. The fool in me did not want to backtrack and said that was just for cars so I went around it, since I could see the rest of the road merging towards the highway in the far horizon. The road was bone-jarringly rough and at one point I was tempted to sneak on to the freeway through a few hundred metres of desert but there was a huge ditch and barbed wire fencing preventing me. Off the side of the road I saw another sign that indicated claimed military use and I nervously wondered if this was the reason the road was closed. A few more kilometres and I found an almost washed out bridge which provided a better explanation to my relief. I think lost almost half an hour on this rough detour.

Does this mean the road is closed?

Uh-oh, maybe I shouldn't be here

This bridge was barely standing, but I just got down into the dry ditch and walked my bike across

Back on the smooth shoulders of the interstate, I was cruising again and made good time. Over the final ridge for the day, the view opened up to a spectacular sight, the dusty town of Baker below and the looming hump of the Sierra Nevada beyond.

Salty flats off in the distance

a wide range of fuels

It was about 12:30 when I pulled into what seemed like the one and only street in town. It was good to have my day's intended distance behind me by noon. I stopped at a Dairy Queen for a banana split as a reward, and suddenly the heat felt oppressive as the cool breeze had turned into a hot gusting wind. I checked into the only motel in town which was a huge rip-off at 65 bucks considering the quality. Across the street, the town's signature giant thermometer was registering 99˚F, I'm sure it rose much higher while I took a long nap, washed some clothes and uploaded the first few pages of this blog in air-conditioned comfort. When I emerged to find something to eat past 6 pm, it had gone down to 95˚F but the wind was still whipping up dust devils.

Baker's Big Thermometer. Makes me wonder if this place was named after an oven.

The wind had died down when I woke up before dawn, almost to my disappointment as I was hoping it would help push me uphill. I was a bit concerned with this long climb as it goes up 3000 feet over 20 miles (32 kms) to start with absolutely no services in between. I had to make sure I had enough water to keep from getting dehydrated which meant hauling extra weight.

The elevation profile from Barstow to Baker...

...compared to continuing on from Baker to Primm

After a decent breakfast I bought a gallon of water and a packaged sandwich for lunch and set off on the slope which begins right outside the town. It was slow grinding and I set my GPS screen to display elevation so I could slowly tick off the feet of rise instead of distance to give me some feeling of accomplishment. Halfway up the slope some trucks and cars were overheating, I could smell boiling coolant vapours, mixed with the whiff of burning brake pads from the other side of the freeway. I took advantage of the occasional tree shade to stop and avoid heat exhaustion. I drank a good part of a gallon of water.

There was a bit of downhill after that, but beyond was yet another thousand feet of climbing. Luckily there was a rest area in the dip, and they had a water tap to replenish my supply. It was also a good place to stop for lunch in the shaded pavilion.

The last thousand feet of climbing up ahead

Some odd cactus trees

The higher desert

Approaching the summit, it was nice to see this sign after 30 miles of climbing

By the time I got to the final summit it was searing hot. I was only wearing my mesh safety vest at this point, and I realized I forgot to put sunscreen on my shoulders and they were getting a bit burnt. As I rounded a curve and pulled off the road to put on a long-sleeved shirt, the spectacular sight of massive solar energy generators came to view, the fields of mirrors beaming intense sunlight up onto collector towers. There's an eerie other-worldliness to them, unlike solar panels you really sense the awesome power of the sun. The quality of light is similar to when they show heavenly apparitions in the movies.

The long descent 

This photo is for all the drivers who have wanted to stop here and take one but aren't allowed.

Mirrors beaming light onto power generation towers

The gambling resort town of Primm right on the Nevada border appeared like a mirage in the valley below, still miles away. On a bicycle it seemed to take forever to get to from first sighting. It was 2 pm when I got there. I made a beeline for the gas station and downed a huge bottle of Gatorade. For some reason I didn't feel hungry but I forced down some chicken McNuggets while I used the convenient free WiFi to book a room. Shower, nap, buffet and three bucks lost to a slot machine. Welcome to Nevada.

From the emptiness of the California desert

...to the pocket-emptying excess of Nevada!

What comes down must go up!