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Looking to the south about 10 miles east of Fernley Nevada at the start of the Forty Mile Desert. As a thing, it is amongst one of the more beautiful things I have seen. As a reality, it is one of the more harsh I have had the experience to pass through.

Crossing a Desert on a mountain bike isn't an easy thing, even if you are physically and mentally prepared for the thing. It can be a monstrous blast furnace hitting you with crosswinds at one moment, then moments later that crosswind can be a blessed tailwind blowing you in the direction you want to go.

The following is an excerpt from my daily notes: This was one of the accepted passages to the California gold fields from the east. I am passing through what is known as the 40 mile desert, one of the most grueling and difficult journeys on this route or for any route to the west. It was the most dreaded at any rate. This particular section claimed thousands of head of livestock and hundreds of human loves. It is not for the feint of heart. By the time noon rolled around, I was well out of Sparks Nevada and into desert like thrills.

I have more than fifty seven miles before getting to any service... This rest stop which is about half way through the desert, has a hand crank for water and I'm not sure if it is drinkable. No wasting water on a cleanup. I should mention that when I was in the desert area, one nice chap stopped to see if I was okay when I was walking.

I traveled over 100 miles today or there about and my saddle hurts. I need to get cycle gloves to stop the sun from burning my upper hands and to help with the road vibration. I passed the time thinking about the pioneers that passed through here before me, a huge pitcher of ice lemonade, and watching little creatures like the lizards, ground squirrels, and jack rabbits scurry for cover from the roadside.