Dating elko nevada 42

I passed off my keys to one of his coworkers who drove my car back to Elko.

We would follow the remnants of Old US-40 and unmarked two-track and cattle roads over the formidable Pequop mountains, across wide Independence Valley, pass through Wells, Nevada, and then snake beside the serpentine course of the Humboldt River until we arrived in Elko.

No truck noise, no smell of exhaust disturbed us as we wound through the sagebrush on our slow climb up the east face of the Pequops.In the 40 years since this section of US-40 was replaced by I-80 it has deteriorated into patches of blacktop interspersed with gravely macadam, with ghostly remnants of a center stripe warning us from beyond the obsolescent grave when it wasn’t safe to pass ghostly slower vehicles.Sage gave way to juniper forest as we gained elevation.Since I moved to Vegas, Elko seems pretty remote - a seven hour drive is nothing to sneeze at - but when Thomas told me about his bikepacking plans I knew I had to suck it up and get to cowboy country to join him. We both count it as a moral victory every time we use a bike instead of a car to get from A to B, and we both have a couple of multi-day road tours under our belts.But neither of us had ever done any multi-day off-road riding, or “bikepacking” as the hip outdoor magazines call it.

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