No one is pretending here. We have no idea what we’re doing.
It only took three days for us each to have a situation with our clip-in pedals (not counting the day I fell over in Heath’s apartment learning how they worked). I was going uphill and was so tired I nicked the curb and fell over. Heath rolled up to a gas station after our long day on the 395 and just plain fell over. Falling over on a bike still clipped in……always funny for the person still standing
So, from our renegade camping spot we rode 35 whole miles up the road to Trona toready ourselves for Death Valley. We got there around 12 and soon found out that there ain’t a damn thing funny about this town. They have one hamburger stand and one grocery store that looked like you’d picture a store after armageddon. A town full of miners and no bar. On the map there is a lake…..no lake. No cell service either. So we watched the hell out of direct tv and spent an unusual amount of time watching fitness shows to see if we could get any tips about getting a sexier body. If we don’t look awesome halfway through the country, we’re buying hydroxy cut and coming home with abs.
So it’s been decided, after this journey Heath’s buying a building in Trona, opening a bar, and putting a cell tower on it. Sure thing.