And now we're in Nevada. Just like that it seems, though I know it wasn't just like that. With Utah now in the rearview mirror, the ol' rose-colored glasses want to be put on and make me think Utah was a great leg of the trip. I keep brushing the glasses aside because Utah wasn't a great leg. Utah was an okay leg, and I'm more than ready to say goodbye to it.
In the beginning Utah made me marvel at its beauty. The changing formations, the colors of the rocks, the whole so-different-than-all-the-other places we'd rolled through made me really look forward to rolling through Utah. By day four, biking to Escalante, the enthusiasm for Utah had worn thin. Every inch of the way, we were climbing. Some grades were such that I was barely pedaling 6 mph. And that's how Utah went. Even today, our last day in Utah, we had three climbs. The grades were gentle this time, but still, climbing mile after mile wears on a cyclist. I surprised myself today with how strong I rode. Maybe it was knowing Utah was ending. Maybe it was the hope that Nevada would flatten out some, just a little? Whatever it was, Sweetness and I rolled along at a nice clip, even on the uphills, for 83 miles.
Here in Baker, Nevada, I'm sitting in a little store/cafe/bar/bistro. I ate homemade pumpkin/sweet potato pie, uploaded pics to Facebook, and am now drinking Anchor Porter. If this is any indication, Nevada is going to be awesome.