No idea the 36 hr hell we're about to put ourselves through
Coming down Hobbs Rd, I tried half-heartedly to avoid a big rock in the road but chose to go over it rather than trying to swerve hard and risk losing control. Big mistake - the rock gave me an instant pinch-flat while on -20% grade road that was slowly turning to the left. I couldn't get that flat tire to give me any control at all so I was easing off that brake and trying to go all rear but it wasn't enough to slow me. I had to choose between going off the side of the road or trying to force my flat tire to turn - I chose to try turning and completely lost control of the bike. The handlebars wrenched sideways, bike came to a sudden stop, and I went over the handlebars onto my just-recently-healed-broken-wrist as I tumbled down the hill. I limped to the side of the road and found a shady spot to slowly swap the tube. My wrist was in extreme pain for the entire rest of the trip.
From Poverty Flat it was yet more high-teen % grade uphill (aka hike-a-bike territory again) under clear skies and hot sun for about a mile. Probably when Paco's future heat stroke first started to creep into his weak body. Stopping for a snack after an hour of pushing our bikes and only getting about a mile along the trail. We were both miserable to the point all we could do was laugh at the shared misery.
It took more than 2 hours to go 1.7 miles on Willow Ridge Trail. After hike-a-bike on the insane steep fire roads, we thought this single track hiking was going to be the peak of torture for the trip - if we knew how bad the next day was going to be we may have just given up then. The sun was getting lower and I was completely out of energy. At another hike a bike section ahead of me, I told Paco to get to camp and set up if he wanted to. I was way too worn out to keep pushing myself. I eventually got to camp after sun down but before it had gotten too dark. Found at the campsite a bunch of lifted trucks playing country music and went into a rapid panic; turned out to be a search and rescue team doing some training up in the mountains and not just drunk rednecks.
The search and rescue team that I thought were going to ruin our one night at Mississippi Lake but actually turned out to be cool guys
Paco was NOT feeling well. We stopped a good amount that morning whenever there was shade so he could try and cool off. Paco died for about 2 hours at the creek while we let the sun pass overhead. I also took a short nap and read my book with a continuous breeze and sound of the creek. The morning's hike-a-bike on Willow Ridge Rd had not taken too much out of me and I was in pretty good spirits. We decided to take The Narrows trail instead of going up and over Poverty Flat Rd - and being exposed under the sun with what we knew were steep uphill sections. This would be the single worst decision of the trip. Demonstrating about 10% of the difficulty and strain level of the rocks we had to climb over for this 2 mile stretch along the creeks. Not pictured are the many, many times I had to put my bike on my shoulder, with all the gear, and climb 8 ft boulders wearing Teva sandals
