Beowawe and beyond
It had rained overnight and was still overcast. I hoped the rain would have compacted the sandy bits of track to stop my rear wheel sinking and messing up my steering.
I left Battle Mountain on the frontage road despite the warnings from the truckers I'd met a couple of days ago. It was actually very quiet.
I arrived at Dunphy to find a small RV park. There was a lady with a little Yorkshire terrier who I stopped to chat to. I told her I was from Yorkshire (whilst wearing my Tour de Yorkshire top). She told me it was her daughter, Shayne's RV park and that she was in the minimart if I needed anything. This really was a minimart. It was basically the size of a large garden shed. It had a single fridge and a very limited selection of chocolate. On the counter were two bananas. I asked Shayne if they were for sale. It turned out they were her lunch but upon hearing I was on a bicycle she kindly sold me one of them along with a drink and some chocolate. At that point we were interrupted by some genuine cowboys who came in to buy supplies. They had very cool cowboy hats. After they left I got chatting with Shayne and she decided to message her friend from the local mine to ask for advice for me about the route to Beowawe. I hung around for a few minutes chatting with her and her friend said it should be fine.
With good wishes from Shayne and the OK from her local friend, I set off towards Beowawe. The road took me under the freeway and then the landscape seemed to change. Compared to the past few days it was vageuly reminiscent of the Lake District although the wildlife clearly wasn't.
Beowawe itself was a small collection of ramshackle buildings. There wasn't much sign of life but I suspected eyes may be watching me and I moved on. My original route plan had me going back up to the freeway but it looked as though there was a road that followed the railroad and Google Maps suggested there were tracks. I still hadn't learned my lesson.