Crazy is a common word used to describe my riding a bike to Burning Man. But I have been reassured that it is crazy in the sense of persistent, brave, honorable, strong,tenacious, yet still a bit quirky.
Six AM on August 20, Jillian, Andres, and I headed up the 4,200 foot grade from Bishop to Mammoth lakes, CA. It was a hard push for the first day of my seven day bike tour, but energy was high. The first stop was “Pie in the Sky” at Rock Creek Lodge as a treat, for it was my 30th Birthday.
Once in Mammoth Lakes, we had a lovely dinner with a few close friends, and a long soak in the hot springs afterward.
The next day Jillian and I said our goodbyes to Andres, and continued day two with just us girls. We decided to link the Mammoth Lakes scenic loop with the June Lake loop. This was my favorite ride of the entire tour; beautiful the whole way, not too much highway time, and not to hot. I highly suggest linking these two byways. Live music was playing at the Mobile Mart curtsy of “The Whoa Nellie Deli”. A nice way to celebrate before I headed up the rest of the way alone, while Jillian toured Hwy 120 to Hwy 6 back to Bishop.
Lee Vining to Bridgeport, though only 25 miles, is a daunting pursuit that took me nearly 6 hours. My bike must have weighed 90 lbs with all my stuff, and with a two mile grade that took three hours alone, plus arriving in Bridgeport I had to push my bike up a mile long dirt road
to Travertine Hot Spring, because the ground was loose and my tires would not grip. I was exhausted, and getting eaten by mosquitoes. I randomly ran into my friend Diane and just as she left yet before loneliness set in, a huge silver bus showed up with piles of wood stacked on top. An obvious stigma of Burners. I must have made quite the impression, I come jogging up with my jacket inside-out like a crazy woman (my jacket was black and it was hot and I needed a long sleeve for the mosquitoes and because I am ridiculous I totally forgot that I looked like that) but the three men warmed up to me nicely and we soaked in the springs for a while.
Day four I headed to Nevada. Pardon the summery, but for now I have not much to tell of riding 110 miles in the hot desert alone with the burning sun and my mp3 player running low. One thing I found about riding alone is you just keep going cause there is not much to do. What I thought would take three days or more took only two.
Day six in the AM I arrive at the “store” in Nixon, NV. Burning Man did not start for another four days and I was only 75 miles away. Talking to some local Paiutes, I decided to go to Pyramid Lake and take the day off riding. The Paiutes were impressed with my persistence, and I was impressed by their love of Burning Man (keeping in mind no one I talked to enjoys the amount of people that attend and most would muse on at least 1/3 less people). They asked, “Where do you camp?” I responded, “you ever get the thought that someone may be sleeping behind a sage brush? Well that is me.”
Pyramid Lake smelled so bad. I asked a local about the stench and he explained that this time of year the new planet life is growing and pushing all the settlement up and the wind blows it south of the lake. I hung out at the stinky lake all day, alone, singing as load as I could, walking in circles, reading, did some laundry, and slept in an awkward little spot. There were some interesting formations, and a beautiful sunset.
Day seven, I woke up brushing the spider webs off me, freaking out a bit at the size of these brown insects. Today was the hardest day of my tour. The sun shone without any cloud coverage and radiated 95 degree heat. I kept telling myself to keep going until shade, before I rested or ate. Needless to say I found no sage bush big enough on this lonely road to provide shade. Then my persistence turned to stubbornness when my back wheel lost three spokes causing it to rub on the frame of the bike, and my thighs developed sun blisters. For the last 20 miles into Empire, I pedaled twice as much for half the distance, because I did not want to stop without shade (62 miles later).
When I arrived in Empire (17 miles to Burning Man), I found refuge in the first place I saw, the pulled pork venders. After basking in their shade, I moved my bike to under a tree and attempted to work my tire straight. The pulled pork venders gave me a meal. The real food melted in
my mouth and the salt helped me recover. Once my bike was trued and belly full, I volunteered myself to work in order to camp in Empire.
I jumped in a camper and joined the Glen Show. Glen is a
lighting vendor for festivals, his energy was all over the
place, which help us stay up until 10 am the next day due to a
6 hr massacre of Reno’s Walmart. I slept on the way back to
my bike in Empire.
Day eight, a fellow bike tourer pedaled up, bought me a beer and motivated me to ride into Burning Man early, because they must look the other way for two Bike tourers.
So after riding the extra 17 miles, the gatekeepers pulled a power play - emos vs. athletes - and didn’t let us in. We pedaled back to Gerlach for the night.
Day nine, slept in, hung out with two awesome littlegirls, sold some blinky things, accidentally left my Patagonia Nano Puff behind, and hit the road again to wait in line to enter. With permission from Reno firedepartment, we rode on the playa up to the gate. In my excitement I hit a bump and broke another two spokes in my back wheel. We jumped on the frame in order to bend it back, then continued up the playa.
This time the gate keepers let us in. We hooted and hollered as we pulled up to the welcome gate. Being a “virgin” burner I rolled in the playa sand, rang the bell, and screamed “I am no longer a Burning Man virgin.” And everyone around welcomed me home, and I immediately felt the glorious comfort of home.
aLeXaNdRa LoVeLl
