I love my dead gay cow

A little rewind slash catch up…..

In order to get from Lake Meade to St. George, Utah we had to ride on the 15 freeway for the day. Fast, huge shoulder, actually not nearly as bad as we thought. After my short stint of walking my bike with a flat tire, we stopped in Bob’s favorite nightlife spot, Mesquite, for some bulking up. Swiftkick wasn’t playing, so down the road we went for a date with Heath’s very first meltdown. The tell tale sign of a real deal meltdown is simply the word “FUCK!”. If you hear that, you know you’re in for a good one. It’s always said more than once, and always at the top of the lungs. But, we always move on, and usually food is the medicine.

The next morning in St George we ran into this dude…….James Atkin from the hellrose days in hollywood. Awesome surprise.

Then, my fat ass spotted an In n Out, so of course I put some of that in my stomach which made for a very late start. By the time we fixed a few flats, focused my new pump, another meltdown previously mentioned, and got some momentum, we we’re only ably to get 50 something miles in before scratching for a camping spot in the dark on the side of the road. Other than the dead baby cow in the livestock tunnel, it wasn’t so bad.

At this point we did our usual, which is obsess about something a day ahead, and that thing was swimming at Lake Powell. All we had to do was a hard days riding and we would be sweetly rewarded, but that’s never how it works. Chain issues on Heath’s bike got the ball rolling on the luck front, followed by another flat which would finally tap out his supply of extra tubes.

So that’s it, the next day would be spent in Page, AZ getting more supplies and finally swimming. That should fill in the time gap for now.