JULY 26, Baker, Nevada, to Ely, Nevada, 64 miles via Nevada Route 487 and U.S. Route 50. Average speed today, 11.1 mph. Total trip mileage to date, 3,300. Average daily mileage since June 1, 58.9. 

Today we logged the earliest start ever, pedaling away from the uninspiring Silverjack Inn in Baker at 3:45 a.m. Five miles later we hit U.S. Route 50, in Nevada known far and wide, at least in these parts, as “The Loneliest Highway in America.”

No traffic, obviously, was on 50 at 4 a.m., so Ben lay down on the pavement for a catnap in the predawn quiet.  But then it was back to business, heading up the 7,154-foot Sacramento Pass. Reached the top at 6 a.m. with the sun just peeking over the distant peaks.

After a brief, steep descent, we fought the wind to the base of Connors Pass (7,722 feet) and to Majors Junction, home to a bar.

“But we’re more than a bar,” said the proprietress, as she filled out Camelbak water packs with ice.  “That bike guide says we’re just a bar, but we’re a restaurant too.”

The “bike guide” is Adventure Cycling’s Western Express route map, which takes cyclists from Pueblo, Colo. to San Francisco.

The proprietress then regaled us with tales of the bicycling “idiots” she had met over the years, including a French guy who was cycling in a white-out blizzard last March.

“Why do you people do it?” she said. “I know it’s not fun.”

Then there were the walkers, who she said make cyclists look sane by comparison.

One guy known as “Joe Trek,” she said, was going coast to coast on in-line skates and pushing a baby buggy with his gear in it.

Two more guys, walking from Atlantic to Pacific “for autism,” she said, got in a furious feud. One of the walkers, who like Joe Trek was pushing a stroller, became for reasons unknown upset with his companion. So he walked ahead to desert areas where the two had cached food and water, ate and drank his own share, then threw out the rest.

His partner, understandably, became extremely upset with his cache-robbing former friend and was doing his best to catch up with the guy and give him what-for and probably a lot more.

So about this time Joe Trek glides by with his skates and buggy near Majors Junction and the wronged autism guy goes ape, reasoning with some logic that there couldn’t be two guys with strollers crossing the U.S. on foot. He starts running after Joe, red-faced and shaking his fist. Of course Joe’s on rollerblades and outdistances him easily.

A true story? Maybe not, but who cares?

We continued our own trek, clearing Connors Pass and gliding into Ely in time for lunch at the Ramada Inn, which in this town was also a slots casino. Devoted afternoon to laundry and other housekeeping details.

Celebrated Randy’s last day with us at a great Mexican restaurant, and went to bed early in anticipation of yet another early alarm.