DAY 33: LAS VEGAS, JOURNEY'S END

109 km (67 miles) - total: 4607 km (2862 miles)

Ash Fork, Az to Las Vegas, Nv

The alarm clock in my brain woke me up and I knew what I had to do.
I shot out of the motel this morning with the same urgency I had all month, determined to make it to Vegas. A descent of 2000 ft over 100 miles and a generous tailwind were gonna help me do it. I flew on the road for 3 hours, through Seligman and Kingman. It was a very good ride indeed given that the terrain was seriously hilly and that there were no services for over 45 miles. It was a solitary ride, I must have been passed by a handful of cars in the Arizona wilderness. I don't mean to brag but it takes a lot of confidence to tackle a 45-mile stretch of a hilly and lonely road in Arizona without services and with only two full water bottles. No chance I would have done it on day one. Now, after 32 days of America, I probably would have done it with one water bottle, maybe even less.

And so it was with this unshakable poise that I set out this morning to complete my final stage, all the way to the city of blinding lights. Even an understandable moment of questioning whether it was right or wrong to still be cycling after reaching my goal could not sway me. I felt determined and unfazed by the prospect of spending 12 hours (once again) riding under the unforgiving sun in the Arizona desert. As I left the hotel I was soon aided by the intense pleasure of riding on US 66 and a good tailwind which by late morning turned into a crosswind. The thing is even as confident and healthy as I felt, I knew that the bicycle had been ridden to its edges. It was going to let me down sooner or later. I hadn't had it serviced since Colorado and the shift felt very jumpy. I did not eat the whole morning; I did not take pictures, I rode like a competitive racer, determined to get to the end, oblivious to pain. However, after a cursory look at the map, by the time I reached Kingman I thought I was done for the day. I walked the downtown area for a while, I visited the US 66 route museum and then I thought it was probably a good idea to look for a motel. But as it happened before on this trip, my head says one thing and my guts tell me something else. On seeing the Vegas sign I couldn't help it. I thought "what the hell, let's do it!". I decided to press on. At this point I felt I had nothing left to lose so I might as well go for it, one last time, one last sprint, one last laughable dream. I ate 2 power bars and drank 2 Gatorades and I was off again. If I was gonna make it to Vegas in one day it would have to be done the hard way: I would have to ride over 170 miles today, which would have been my record, and on my very last day of the tour, what a twist!

From Kingman I still had 100 miles to go before reaching Vegas so naturally the wind was going to be the biggest factor. And, for once, the gods were benevolent and turned the winds in my favor. I pushed on along Highway 93 north bound. It was 4 miles north of Kingman where it happened. I was riding on a very rough-surfaced shoulder, full of gravel and debris which always pose serious threats to the tires. At one point, unable to ride inside the lane due to the passing traffic, I steered the bike once again into the shoulder where there was a considerable amount on loose gravel. I felt the back wheel rocking vigorously and after a split second the tire completely deflated. I was lucky not to fall. I dismounted and I looked at the tire and saw a big nail stuck in it. It opened a large gash and I immediately knew that my trip was over. No more cycling. There was no point in changing the tube as the tire was wrecked too. The next bike shop would have been in Vegas so I had two options: walk back to Kingman and get a bus or try to hitch a ride from where I was. I went for option two and after 5 minutes standing by the side of the highway a truck stopped and this incredibly kind man, Jim, gave me a ride all the way to Vegas. During the drive I told Jim about my trip and we had a pleasant conversation. He lives in Reno; he used to play American football and rides a mountain bike on weekends. We got to Vegas in no time and he was kind enough to help me find a bike store. I left the bicycle there where it will be packed for air travel.

I bought Jim lunch to repay the generosity he has shown me and then he left. For the very first time in 31 days I was on the road without the bicycle. An incredibly odd feeling. I felt naked and deprived. I kept looking around to see where I had left it. I walked the Strip, through the flashy, sun-baked Vegas sights still in my bicycle gear and understandably felt out of place. I should have walked into a store to buy a pair of pants and a t-shirt but I didn't feel like it. What I wore defined my identity. I am still a cyclist, I am not part of the crowd, not yet at least. I checked into a hotel and tried to block of all my thoughts from swirling inside my head. I managed to sleep after a hot bath. The bed felt reassuring. I took a long deserved rest. I will rest for a couple of days before my bicycle and I will fly back to DC.

My trip has painfully come to an end. I have to go back being myself again. I have a return ticket and I will use it. This is it.



Route 66 in Kingman


Route 66 celebration


Route 66 diner


Kingman, a great place to be if you are a route 66 fan


Last picture taken from the bicycle, 30 seconds later the nail will puncture my tire


Unmistakable evidence


The guilty nail!


The gash


Hoover Dam, 30 miles south of Vegas


Bellagio Hotel


Not really the city of blinding lights, but rather a blurry and senseless blend of confusion and fatuity. The lights, the blur, the sleaze, the third-rate gamblers, the cheap tourists and the vacuity of Vegas were an unfitting end to my trip but I had to fly back from somewhere!