a pilgrimage of sorts, a bicycle tour of other sorts, we spent the Nevada Statehood commemorative holiday spinning away on and a nontechnical semi-long ride. Gerlach, NV was the start and ending location, by way of the Black Rock Playa, Soldier Meadows, High Rock Canyon, and Highway 34.
riding onto the Playa under a full moon was sweet, especially with a 30+ mph headwind. as soon as we found a level spot to bivouac we parked the bikes. it was too cold for socializing.
Wolfy and Trent caught up with the next morning, electing to miss a night on the playa under a full moon. we were easy to find just off shore.
fully regrouped, we finished first breakfast and watched those guys ride away while packing the last of the gear. it was still a bit cold for standing around. Ace and V Nasty were the next away and i lingered a bit as Smithers got his kit together. riding in a northerly direction we spread out like shot. the guys up front looked to be heading for King Lear Pk, me for Black Rock Mtn, the girls closer to the shore, and Smithers smithering along in his own special way. after about an hour i warmed up enough to shed some layers. stopping out there, just barely able to see my amigos, was something special. it was very quiet.
a few hours later i converged with the fast guys. it was lunch time and definitely prudent to regroup before reaching the take-out for the NW area of the playa. anyone seen the girls? Smithers??
then, cohesion lapsed and the group splintered for the remainder of the day. our destination was clear, and once off the playa, it was to be attained by the biggest gravel road in the area. navigation was not a big deal. i spent the day riding alone, checking in with the girls, the fast guys, and keeping tabs on steady Smithers. i did enjoy the time alone entertaining myself with a harmonica. i haven’t the slightest clue about how to play those things, but they sure sound appropriate out in the Great Basin.
40-ish miles of playa riding gave way to 30+ miles of gravel road and a loooooong pull to the Ranch. promises of hot springs, camping on grass, and if we should so choose, a hot cooked ranch meal and huge breakfast the next morning.
morale was as strung out as our party when the sun set and the wind picked up. rain jackets, insulated gloves, beanies, and a splash of Tequila got me and the gals through. Smithers just did his thing and kept his head up, arriving in time to share a hot hot meal of ham steaks (pork!), scalloped potatos, salad, corn with bacon, apple sause, and blue berry pie for dessert. damned if we didn’t try to eat everything. Shredder must’ve had 4 pieces of ham and 3 servings of potatos - that’s my girl! we were a quiet bunch that night, sleeping on grass in the lee of the ranch house, very happy.
“coffee at 6:30, breakfast is served at 7. blue berry pancakes.” was the last thing i remember the Soldier Mdws Ranch cooks say as they retired for the evening. i lingered in the chow hall a while, hoping to dry the sweat from the base layers before going to bag out in the grass. once zipped in, i was warm and on my way to a good night’s rest, disturbed only by a few curious cows, shuffling around in the leaves and snorting.
this time of year, 0700 PST means getting to the chow hall in the dark - no prob when you’re already hungry and have a coffee jones. besides, they had a big ass plate of pork sausage and bacon!
from there it was a just a few miles to the hot springs for some R-n-R before heading into High Rock Canyon.
feelin’ gassy, Wolfy?
gaining a bit of elevation on what remains of the Applegate Emigrant Trail (1840s+) and wandering amongst the walls of High Rock Canyon was a real change from the previous day crossing the Playa. i was stoked to find the route in great shape, virtually no moon dust and low water at all of the crossings. it can be a different story in there earlier in the year.
we made great time in High Rock Canyon, stopped on occasion to check out old stuff, cool stuff, and enjoy the views. with the exception of a few short climbs and a cobble strewn road beds, the route was real mellow for loaded trail bike riding.
Shredder goes Dace spotting
Rolling away from High Rock Canyon that evening we converged with a herd of wild horses. I slowed a bit as the last of them cantered across the road in front of me, just to realize there was a herd of 15 or 20 antelope running parallel to our group a few dozen meters to the right of the road. They shot ahead of us and broke across the road, missing me by 10 meters or so. They cut right and left, zig zagging through the knee high sagebrush at 30 miles an hour-easily. I could smell the roughed up sage and musk from the animals rolling through the path they cut across the road. How cool was that!
We bedded down for a dry camp that night in an open alkali grass meadow. Wolfy got busy gathering sage wood for a warming fire with others laid out their bedrolls and began cooking. I had a flat to tend to, thanks to being a bit zealous after “riding with the antelope” and hucking my loaded touring rig over a roller in the road.
the fire was key to staying up a bit later that evening. sunset was early and it got cold quickly. besides, frozen Sidis (thanks to the creek crossings) needed to be dried out. frost began collecting on gear as we rallied around the dinner pots. i was the last to go to bag, at 9:30, busy tending the fire and listening for coyotes. there was tequila to finish off as well. we woke to a heavy frost and clouds to the east. Wolfy stoked the fire and made a quick effort to break camp. he and Trent were on a mission to roll out ASAP, hoping to attain warmth from cycling.
to be continued
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That playa was a trip! We rode for hours at a time and saw almost no change in scenery. No perception of movement. Watching the team flow in and out of the mirage, bogging down in the stray dunes. Trying to roll to keep warm. Eating…
I changed clothes in the ranch house and was on my way out to fire up the jet boil and have some freezedried dinner, but Trent told me to sit down. I didn’t need much convincing…
I was on my second plate when JR and Shredder came in. Little bit later VNasty, little later Smithers and we were all feeding and warm.
Camping on that grass was killer. No complaints!
Here’s the pics I took.
-M
This was my maiden voyage with teambaconstrip and memorable one it was, the ~160 miles on a cross bike was a treat. Nevertheless, it inspired me to throw down on for a new rig. So, I called my connection in Flagstaff and yada yada yada I should have a new bike by summer (JR let me know).
off topic, but on message.
i believe the new powderwhore flick is in reno this sunday at ceol.
back to your previously scheduled posting.
We lived @ Lost Springs in the early 70’s…there was a sod cookhouse, trailerhouse, “garage/shed” for the milk cow and milk goat. There was a gas-powered Maytag washer in a sm. shed, and the well water was wonderful. There was Charlie’s Opal Mine 5mi north of us, and Jacksons’ old ranch was on north of that. The Calico mtns. were to the north of us, and there were hot springs 6mi west of us, then a creek and on up to the high mtns. There were wild Mustangs in those mtns. We used to go into the hot springs in Gerlach, too. My husband worked cattle, and my kids & I lived in town with the in-laws, Van Ripers. I was a sub. teacher in Gerlach jr hi & H.S., and in the grade school in Empire. Quite a life…got some good pictures of that area in the short time we lived there.