Over the Sierras

Throughout Idaho and Nevada it seemed like I had to fight considerable amounts of wind. Unlike a hill, a biker can't conquer a hill and get on with the day. The wind keeps blowing and blowing and blowing... When Henry in Winnemucca told me the wind might well continue all the way down the Eastern side of the Sierras I determined it might behoove me to cross them and make a B line for the coast, where I heard the wind always blows South.

Consequently I headed West soon after leaving Reno.

To my surprise I was rained, snowed and sleeted on as I made my way up Carson pass on highway 88. I found a couple inches of new-fallen snow at the top piled on top of huge drifts. Luckily the snow prevented the campgrounds from being open so I had a free place to stay, all to myself that night.

The following morning I found another inch of new snow on my tent.

'This will never stick on the roads,' I thought, observing my unfrozen water bottles.
Well, I was wrong.


They don't really make chains for bikes, or at least I didn't have any, so I just soldiered on and tried to get out of the way of the plows. Usually it didn't snow hard enough to obscure my vision, but the snow kept coming down as I biked off the pass. Unlike many passes, Carson doesn't descend quickly as you come off the east side. I expected at any moment to be able to bike my way to a lower elevation and warmer weather, but the road kept flattening and sometimes even climbed. The weather, it seemed, could last indefinitely.

Finally, however, I managed to drop below 6000 feet. The snow stopped, the roadside greened and the trees turned from hardy high-altitude pine to California redwoods. Signs of civilization appeared. I stopped to fill up my water bottles.

The road descended quickly into Jamestown where I picked up 49, started across the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas and finally shed some layers.