As we worked through the final stretches of Utah crossing into Nevada the riding remained remote, hot and loose. We had been riding for days through silt, but now found ourselves following long straight roads of sketchy, loose, deep gravel as we passed by salt lakes and herds of pronghorns that kept track of our progress.
With our bikes pointed west we rode on towards Great Basin National Park, where we planned to stop and camp, excited to check out one of the United States' least visited national parks.
Great Basin was cool, but unfortunately I failed to take a single picture there choosing instead to document Rob's new favorite chewing tobacco.
We carried on across the desert, almost tasting home and the end of our trip.
We had heard rumors of the endless amounts of fences encountered in Nevada, and it certainly turned out to be true. At times we were off and on our bikes every 5 minutes opening and closing the gates that separated the tracts of land around us.
With the landscape changing around us mile by mile we eventually came upon a small shack that we recognized from numerous other ride reports that we had obsessed over in the months spent preparing for our trip. The shack was filled with graffiti from other riders who had passed through while riding the TAT over the years.
It had been an exhausting day of riding. Tired we kept an eye out for a hospitable place to camp, preferably somewhere with water.
It soon became apparent that a campsite with water was not in our immediate future however. Exhausted, barely able to sit on my bike any longer, and with the sun going down we settled in for some desert camping.