We rode to Echo Bay that night. It was a fun ride, road to ourselves pretty much. We could turn our lights out and look at the stars, cruising hills at tremendous speeds. When tragedy struck! I lost the Trondheim Rose necklace that my Father gave me. The leather broke and the silver was lost. I immediately started wailing and crying walking down the road. Phil must have thought the Banshee had been loosed on him. There was nothing to be done so we had to carry on. Phil suggested I go to Norway and get another one. HA! Don't foresee my adventures getting me near that part of the world for awhile.
We stealthily camped at an empty campground. The only other guests were some tremendously loud Donkeys, who brayed at the top of their lungs all night like they were mourning the loss of my necklace for me. Needless to say I slept little.
The 20th was a rough day. We rode from Echo Bay to Mesquite. 74 miles we think. Not bad as far as mileage goes but, the heat killed me. Towing a bunch of water, drinking as much of it as we can, sweating more than that total out. I swear. My Brooks saddle also has a sweet patina of blood all over it because you can't wear a pad and cycle over seventy miles.
We stopped in Overton in the morning to refill water and see the cool Lost City museum. We rode on I-15 which was .... Interesting. Semis blowing past me, road crocodiles everywhere, whole tires and interestingly enough a barbie car wreck. Barbie cars strewn everywhere the victims were not found.
At least 6 spots on the side of the road where cars must have blown up an melted the Tarmac. Haha crazy crazy.
I was relieved to make it to Mesquite whole if not delusional from heat exhaustion.
I rode quickly to Smiths where I used the illegal immigrant way to pick up some money that Scott generously sent me. Western Union is great because you can pick up money without an ID, all you have to do is answer a question. Scott really helped save me, though I am teetering on the edge of being simply abandoned on the road.
We then went to our couchsurfer Giovanni's house. I collapsed on the sidewalk from the tension, till the cool neighbor ladies revived me with cigarettes. Gio was a really cool guy, he turned on comedy central, let us do laundry and I got to sleep in a bed in the first time in forever! Phil started to cook dinner and luckily Gio took over.
In the morning I woke with purpose! I was going to get the laundry out of the drier! Well being a dummy I left it in there! Everything was out of the house and I locked the door turned around and wished I hadn't locked it immediately. That's how things work. You do something so silly and immediately realize how silly it was, there is no lag time there.
Ack! Thanks Gio for letting us stay, sorry we left our clothes.
Anyways. I rode ten miles with Phil to Littlefield where I took some of his gear made him lunch and sent him on his way on 91. I set the intention to hitchhike from there to St George and got a ride in about five minutes while I was sitting in the shade, not trying. Good luck this girl. Tim had a truck and we chucked my gear in. We had a lot in common we talked about Marines we knew, places We'd been, My route, and being LDS. It was a pretty short ride, he dropped me off right in front of my Aunt Christine's sister Barbara's house. Grandma Dee was on it when she texted me in the morning to ask me where I was and where I was going and got me a place to camp out.
Thank you Tim, Grandma Dee and Barbara for working out my pleasant stay in St George.
In the end tension has been relieved a bit through the help of old and new friends. Hopefully the oppressive heat lifts.
Also I think Phil has seen me cry more than anyone other than my mother. That I pretty impressive... I don't cry often but I have gotten very emotional.
So thanks to Phil for continuing to deal.
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