After being woken up by the cowboy, we continued our biking through the rolling hilled landscape. We rode about 30 miles until South Pass where we stopped for lunch. As we were eating, we spotted the most American scene yet – a shotgun shell and a tin of Skoal.
We continued riding to South Pass City. It’s funny – on these maps it marks out the towns we hit along the way with the relevant services. After riding in what seems like the middle of nowhere for a few days, you expect these towns to be a fair size, being home to a number of amenities. Today was a perfect example – goal: to hit South Pass City for a nice lunch and maybe a rocket pop or two… As the mileage markers for SPC winded down, there was still no sign of this “City”. Sure enough, nested in a little ravine (or gulch), sat SPC – the current home of 3 full time residents.
We had an extended stay in South Pass because Geoffrey’s rack decided to snap shortly before. Second rack down on the trip… With absolutely no services there, we managed to super glue it then duct tape it. This held okay but was no permanent fix. Luckily we were in desert country so it wasn't too harsh on the rack (if you could manage to avoid the omnipresent washboard).
We then trekked onward to Atlantic City (10 miles or so down the road) where we had a little powwow at the local watering hole. This was ideal because we had internet access allowing us to get in touch with the Salsa Rep (manufacturer of G’s rack). Atlantic City also marks the beginning (or end) of the Great Basin so we got a lot of intel from the bar owner, Laurel. We had planned to continue for another 25 miles to the well to camp for the night but decided it would be wise to stay the evening in Atlantic City to accommodate communication between G and Salsa. We simply couldn't have begun the basin adventure sans rack information.
A snapshot of rural America
South Pass City!! An old gold mining town. Not much gold left.
Atlantic City... Same story as South Pass.