JULY 31:  Fallon, Nevada, to Carson City, Nevada, 63 miles via U.S. Route 50. Average speed today, 13.2 mph. Total trip mileage to date, 3,633. Average daily mileage since June 1,  59.6.

Today Route 50 would not be mistaken for America’s Loneliest Highway. Much of the stretch between Fallon and Carson City is unattractive strip development  and heavy traffic. Luckily, shoulders for most of the run were wide, if not completely smooth.

Two items of news from an otherwise uneventful run:

We caught up with someone! At about 10:30 a.m. we saw a cross-country cyclist at the gas station and mini-mart at Silver Springs, Nevada.  Naturally, we figured he was headed east.  In our more than 3,500 miles, we had not caught nor been caught by a westbounder.

But to our great surprise, Jordan Emmans of Colfax was headed toward his hometown of Colfax after beginning in Naples, Fla. on May 21. The guy had been on the road longer than we had and had put in more miles. But Jordan, in his own estimation, was hauling at least 100 pounds of gear in panniers and on racks.

With a four-member support crew driving with us, Ben and I were carrying no more than 15 pounds apiece – if that.

I got tired just looking at Jordan’s fully laden Cannondale. But we shared his excitement over nearly ending a long journey. “God, my butt is sore,” he lamented. We can relate.

Emmans, “between gigs,” began his ride after a stint teaching English in South Korea. Plans after his trip?  Unknown.

Our second major development: Regular readers will remember the flat rear tire Ben had between Ely and Eureka and that an inspection of his Bontrager Hard Case tire revealed that it was gouged, peeling and generally chewed up. Optimistically, it looked like the tire had about five good miles left.

But because replacement options ranged from impractical to impossible, Ben’s strategy was to run on the crippled tire and keep his fingers crossed.

Jordan Emmans looked at it in Silver Springs, and didn’t look optimistic.

But at 2 p.m. we rolled up to the Bike Smith next to our motel in Carson City with the tire barely intact. In 15 minutes, the bike shop crew had replaced the mangled tire with a brand-new Specialized Armadillo tire, which the dealer promised would last thousands of miles.

More importantly, it will spare Ben from the misfortune of a flat on Sonora Pass.

Which is now imminent: Tomorrow we ride to Bridgeport, where my wife, Suzy, will meet us. Then, on Saturday, it’s down the pass, up Washington Street and home for a day before heading to the coast Monday and Tuesday.

We’re on the home stretch, and it’s exhilarating.