I found this little orange dress on the side of the highway two days ago, in perfect condition. I’m surprised by what we find along the roadside and I’m intrigued to know the circumstances by which these things come to be here. Last week, I found three size 6 kids Levi jeans. There’s a set of triplets somewhere no mas pantalones.
This morning we slowly make our way out of the Valley of Fire State Park, exploring the park’s history and redrock formations as we leave.
I’m trying out the BOB trailer today to see how it handles and if I prefer it over carrying the gear in panniers.
We woke today feeling much better compared to the past two days. Enthusiasm levels are high. We had been incredibly fatigued and lethargic. I felt depressed, and just wanted to lay down and take a nap…anywhere. It took considerable effort to muster the motivation to do anything. We were moving at a sloth’s pace. I didn’t know if I needed a nap or a zoloft. This didn’t make any sense because we just spent four days off the bikes, we should be well rested.
We finally put it together last night: we’re both really dehydrated.
I think we were dehydrated leaving Vegas, which is not surprising considering our fluid intake consisted mainly of 99 cent margaritas and beer. We didn’t stand a chance after two days of biking in 90+ degree heat.
On the way out of the park we learn about an early pioneer passing through who ran out of water, got tired, took a nap in the shade under his buckboard wagon and later died of dehydration. If I had a wagon yesterday, I would have taken a nap under it. We’ve napped in worse places.
We’ve been pounding water and gatorade since last night. We’ve also set water quotas throughout the day to remind ourselves to drink. It’s incredibly difficult to stay well hydrated in this heat. Scott thinks we’re dehydrating in our sleep just from breathing the dry air. We’re still not peeing clear but at least we are peeing, a sign our kidneys are functioning and are not filtering sludge.
I have a flat one mile outside our destination for the day, so close we can see the town. More importantly, we can see tall trees and shade and stores that sell cold drinks. But instead we’re stuck on I-15, in a construction zone, in the blazing sun, fixing this darn flat. This should have foreshadowed the kind of welcome we’d receive.
We’re back in Arizona, riding through a tiny piece of its Northwest corner on our way to Utah.
We’re camping in the desert tonight, after being turned away from three RV parks that don’t allow tents. Mesquite, NV has no love for bicycle tourists. We find there is an inverse relationship between the number of golf courses and our ability to find a place in town where we can set up our tent. We find a beautiful spot a couple of miles out, overlooking the Virgin River. We set up camp and dive into a watermelon.