Now that we are back in cellphone reception in Delta, UT, texts have been pouring in--except on Jason's phone, no one seems to care how he is faring. From the important (Parents wondering where we are), meaningful (Friends checking up on us), and plain dumb (Shane attempting to stay involved in the ride from the comforts of a bed in Salt Lake City where he didn't have to endure any hardship in the past two days), the flood of messages has run the gamut from necessary to useless.
Parents--we are fine.
Friends--we miss you too and will not be home at least until August 19th so stop asking us twelve times a day.
Shane--re-watch Slumdog, find some inspiration, and stop faking it.
Now, onto our story. After waving goodbye to Shane and his mother in Reno, our troop of six made the six hour drive to Ely, NV, to stay on on schedule. Already sick of casinos, brothels, and deserts, we arose early on Tuesday morning to make the 62 mile trek to Baker, NV. A word, for any of those interested in visiting Nevada: Don't do it. We have spent the last week as nomads along Highway 50, truly suffering on the road. Yes, Nevada Tourism Agency, we get it. It is the loneliest road in America. That fact is neither appealing nor romantic. Put simply, we are all extremely happy to have left the "Silver State" for the comfort of the "Beehive State."
Sanford for the second time on our trip was almost bitten by a snake. After attempting to do push-ups in the Nevada desert he was unpleasantly surprised by an unhappy rattle snake about 6in from his head. Words for the wise: save the push-ups for the hotel room.
Our night in Baker was anything but fun. Due to illness, most notably migraines, our numbers on the road were small yesterday, allowing those in the support vehicle to make the decision to spend the night at the Border Inn, quite literally on the border of Utah and Nevada. Although this was an amazing experience because we were given the opportunity to experience true silence, we wonder why anybody would be interested in taking an off day there. While Mike and Kirsten went to explore the nearby Lehman Caves, Sanford read Twilight shamelessly (if that's even possible), Zane and Jason tended to a wounded Claire, who apparently reminded the aggressive ranchers of Kate Barfield from Holes fame. Little did these men know that Kate Barfield and Stanley Yelnats are mere characters of fiction--nonetheless, Claire was left maimed, resting in a random motel room with the company of seven stallions (bikes).
Today, our numbers were once more whittled away by disease (Read: You have died of dysentery a la Oregon Trail), leaving only a few to make the 80 mile journey to Delta, UT. Upon arrival in this quaint town, our riders were met with the present surprise of a community center, containing showers and gymnasium as lodgings. Jason, immediately in touch with his street basketball roots, proceeded to talk up a show. Causing spectators to watch in laughter when he suggested that he should be chosen first in today's NBA Draft. Meanwhile, Claire made sandwiches and Zane purchased an authentic cowboy hat. Now, as the group prepares for dinner and MIKE'S 21st BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION (I hope you all RSVPed on Facebook), we are reflecting on the past three days, deciding on these three simple truths:
1) We never want to visit Nevada again.
2) Lynne Davis and her daughter Jazz are incredible people for providing us with food and amazing quarters for the night
3) Zane actually looks good in a cowboy hat. Impressive.
We look forward tomorrow to the return of Mr. Hegde and recovery of Mr. Stewart.
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