Thursday, September 16, 1999: 8:28 pm
Refreshed and revitalized, we're back in the saddle and looking over vast stretches of desert with comments like. "See that ridge over there in the distance, our campsite isn't over that one, but the one after that." In all reality only Tap and Chris knew how much longer we had to go. It never seemed to end. We got to the fire road only to wind several more miles under the now punishing sun. Suddenly the Suburban is in site and we stop to be quenched by icy Frescas! How could they know I worship the stuff? Of course it was the best damn thing any of us had ever tasted as we gulped it in the shade along with a couple Cliff bars.
The end must be near I thought. Wishful thinking. Several more miles breaking from singletrack to fire road and back again. My tunnel vision at this point means I can't see beyond the next hill. Just make it up the next hill. There must be some kind of descent after it. I've lost my shirt and my gloves and my Gregory hydration backpack is hanging off my shoulders. I'm surprised that in my delirium I'm still keeping up.
We put in over 25 miles, but I feel like it was 40. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Doubt it. Either way it couldn't be any sweeter. Needless to say, even though I'm squinting into a screen after all this, it's impossible to think of anything outside this encompassing beauty. As night falls, we are blessed with the natural lightshow of a storm in the distance. Tomorrow brings on Kokopelli stage two, stay tuned. Hans Prosl, delirious in the desert for MountainZone.com
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