Stress
The first hour+ was basically lane splitting my way through San Diego. To make matters worse, I had to pee the entire time, but I didn't stop because I knew that getting through San Diego before traffic hit full force was crucial.
Exploration
The 8 heading east from San Diego morphs every few miles. First there were fighter jets and helicopters doing low altitude maneuvers over vast suburban tracts. Then the rolling hills gave way to golden granite rock formations and deep canyons. When the canyons relent, the desert becomes dunes. Endless dunes, bathed in evening light, criss-crossed with the footprints of buggies, motorcycles and quad bikes.
Agriculture
Bugs. Lots and lots of bugs. Then more bugs. I was stopping every hour to clean my windscreen. It was ridiculous. Thousands and millions and billions and trillions and zillions of bugs. And then... more bugs.
Miscalculation And Desperation
89 miles after my last fuel stop I stopped to clean my windscreen. The meant that I still had about 50% fuel left in the tank. I didn't fuel up because I figured my arse would appreciate another stop within the hour. Uh, that was a mistake. My fuel computer kicked in indicating 26 miles until I ran dry. I was in the middle of fucking nowhere. I hadn't seen a town in more than an hour. I checked the GPS and the next waypoint was 24 miles away. I frantically began searching the GPS for the next fuel stop. 24 miles to the next gas. Shit. I really didn't want to run the tank that close to empty. Especially at night. Especially in the middle of the desert. Even if I ran out of fuel 2 miles from town, it would have been disastrous. Knowing (hoping) I would make it I went into fuel conservation mode. I dialed the speed back to 70 (from 95) and put my head against the tank to reduce my drag profile. When I finally pulled in for fuel I was indicating 4 miles left until dry tank. I put 4.7-something gallons into my 4.7 gallon tank. I was well and truly empty.
And lucky. So fuckin' lucky.
Into The Void
After the Gila Bend fueling fiasco the road turns into a two-lane highway. On a motorcycle, in the desert, at night, with headlights glaring in the windscreen, I was literally hurling myself into the void. You can just barely see. You're going 90 miles an hour. It's terrifying.
Relief
All in all, I had a tail wind most of the way and getting to Pierce's house was pretty easy. I didn't feel fatigued or sore after the ride. But I'll soon pay the the piper. Tune in for that story in a later episode.
rC
