Wow, it’s been a while! Here’s a rundown of the trip this week.

Tuesday: Greg, Andrew, Alice, Anton, and Morgan conquered Ebbett’s Pass and met up with me at a campground on Highway 4. Merriment ensued.

Wednesday: We sailed down next to the Carson River, stopping for second breakfast in Markleeville.


We also met a solo bike tourist from Alaska who was traveling along the Sierra Cascades route. Back home he builds snow bikes, and he showed off his derailleur-free chainring that he shifts by hand when he hits a steep climb. After Luther Pass nearly killed me, we heard about an alternative route from a local that got us off the highway and onto an old, very overgrown road that inspired much post-apocalyptic daydreaming.

Lost highway

At the end of the road, who should jog past but Shane, the guy who had saved me two days earlier from turning into a sun-baked husk! He was happy to see that I was still alive and well.

We then descended upon Lake Tahoe and Greg and Anton ate all their ice cream.

Thursday: Morgan left us to go run up a mountain, and we pressed onward after breakfast, where we met a seventy-three-year-old cyclist who had been on the US cycling team in the 1972 Olympics! We stopped for a dunk in the lake before meandering along the Truckee River and camping at Donner Lake.

What lies beneath

Friday: Andrew peeled off the pack as well to head down to Oroville, as we changed our original trajectory and headed up Highway 89 to the town of Graeagle. It was packed with folks gearing up for an epic Fourth of July weekend extravaganza. We set up camp by the Feather River and then went to the town barn dance to attempt to blend in with the locals.


Saturday: Greg and I bid Alice and Anton a hearty farewell / Auf Wiedersehen, and decided to take a lazy day. In Graeagle, a Civil War reenactment society was out in full dress, and we stuck around to see the ensuing battle.


We then found a vacancy at a motel in Portola, and headed up there. Along the way we found a tiny brewery inside a roadside resort – Eureka Peak Brewing Company. The owner-brewer didn’t yet have a license to sell beer for off site consumption, which was a shame because his Lavender Witbier was amazing.

And now, we’re enjoying the luxury of air conditioning, trashy television, and a real bed!

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