It's a quarter past 1 and I'm hitting 25 downhill into Beatty. My acceleration only makes the driving rain pelt me harder. My gloves, long since soaked through, profide no warmth. My shoes are full of water despite my having put plastic bags over my socks.

"We are looking at it with Northwest eyes," I told Scott Wednesday morning in camp. I had gotten up at three to the usual strong moonlight in a clear sky, but by 5:30 I began to feel chill in my tent and the sky had clouded up. A wall of grey covered the northern end of the valley and another seemed to close in from the southwest.

"it's just desert fog," I fabricated.

Sunrise on the last morning.

Staying in bed wasn't an option, though. Today we would make the climb over Daylight pass back to Beatty and, we hoped, make at least part of the drive home.

We had agreed to go to breakfast before breaking camp, but we had all lied. We got up earlier than usual and made whatever progress toward breaking camp we could. I think we were all anxious about the climb and anxious to get started.

Back from breakfast we hurriedly broke camp. The weather wasn't improving. We managed to head toward the pass about 8:30 trailers and panniers doing nicely thank you until we hit the bottom of Mud Canyon.

Making the turn to Daylight Pass

We took a break and I removed jacket and leg warmers. Was that a drop of rain?

Readying for the climb

A car pulled up, driver grinning. "Anytihng you want me to haul to the top for you?"

"You can just put me on top, there," I said. But Scott chimed in that this is "all part of the experience." What a guy, that Scott.

A total of 30 to 35 to reach Beatty. We had already covered 8 or 9. We figured we'd have thirteen miles of climbing. We feared the grade after Towne Pass though we knew this one only climbed to 4300 feet.

Doug scooted off ahead as usual. I was next with Scott and Jen riding together and Steve taking up the rear. We expected him to come by us before the top.

The grade was mild if you think 5 to 6 percent pulling a trailer is mild for much of the way. The light rain actually felt good on my skin. I felt strong and quickly found a rhythm of spinning that I'd alternate with a bit more pushing that kept my pace at 6 mph.

Just as I thought I was going to catch Doug, though, I had to stop. Light rain had become the real thing. If I didn't switch to rain gear soon, I'd be soaked. By the time I had the rain jacket on and plastic bags in my shoes, Scott and Jen had caught me. We had done about 5 miles and now it wasn't the grade we worried about so much as being wet and cold.

Doug stopped at the rest stop at the intersection with the road to Furnace Creek. I pulled in too and put on my leg warmers. I was warm enough moving though I had had to drop to 3 and 4 mph by now. Scott and Jen showed up. Both were cold. We waited for Steve but by the time he got there I was beginning to shiver. I told him I had to go to stay warm. He understood.

Doug and I took off more or less together the rest of the way. No AC warning on this slope gave me hope that it wouldn't get much worse. Nor were there any cheery little signs reporting the elevation. No mind. I had my GPS. I stopped looking at miles, grade, or average pace. Who cared? What I wanted to know was how many more feet of elevation must I gain to the top? And it worked. Every few strokes I'd be rewarded by a 1 or 2 foot jump in the elevation. 900 feet, 800 ft I told myself. When I stopped to wipe the rain and sweat from my eyes, Doug told me it was 4300 feet not 4200 as I had been expecting. Okay, 600 ft, left not 500.

Daylight pass has more turns than Towne. You could make a goal of each turn, each horizon. It helped.

That's 4300 feet on the sign back of me.Do I look wet?.

I planned to put on warmer, drier gloves at the top but had trouble finding them and when Doug said he wasn't stopping, I mounted up and headed down. Fortunately the steepest section was pretty short and I didn't suffer much from the cold. I had a couple of landmarks to look for on the way back to Beatty. One was the Titus Canyon cut off and the other was Rhyolite. They'd seemed fairly far from Beatty, but now I rode endlessly before finally passing them.

Ahead of me in the drizzle the road way was a shiny ribbon and it looked to be climbing high and to the left. I don't remember that, I thought. But an oncoming car demonstrated that, yes, I'd have to climb again. It hadn't seemed like much on Saturday but soaking wet pulling a trailer changes how you see the world.

That hill was just a false top too. Leveling out a bit, it climbed again before finally dipping down into Beatty.

Cold and wet and anxious to get back to The Nut and Candy Shop where I knew there'd be a bathroom in which to change, I nevertheless had to come to a full stop at Beatty's only stoplight.

Doug was only minutes behind me and he had a key to the RV. "Watch the bikes," said rushing off to the RV.

Steve had made it to that last hill that had hurt me so much before Doug picked him up. Scott and Jen were still on the Beatty side of Daylight pass. Walking. Cold, tired, shaky, Jen didn't trust her bike and dismounted to walk. Scott found his rear brakes wouldn't stop him.

Doug performed his rescue while I peeled off wet layers in a filthy men's room. The unfamiliar rains had caused a urinal overflow. Black bags covered the three stations and the floor, though dry, looked stained. I did my best not to put anything down directly on the floor.

Now where's that pair of underwear? NO, it's in the trailer and I'm naked. So the jeans came on anyway. But by the time I found the underwear and stuffed them in my pants, maintenance had arrived and closed the men's room. Damn.

I wanted to sit by the glass doors and watch the bikes, but I couldn't. Maintenance had a hose running in and kept the door wide open. Dry clothes or not, I wasn't warm. I don't usually drink coffee but I needed the warmth. I had two cups.

No bikes! Had maintenance moved them? Why? I confess to a moment of fear before I realized Doug was back with the RV. Oh, and I corrected the underwear problem in the RV before we left.

Alive, mostly dry and well, you'd think the adventure was over but no. It became apparent that we were driving through. Scott took a nap on the bed while Doug continued driving. The heat was working when we left Steve off in Payette, but it soon ceased. I grabbed my sleeping bag and crawled in.

My Gps shows 177 miles, 17 hours and 21 minutes riding time, and 14000 feet of climbing (Probably more 'cause mine shut off for the top half of Daylight). My average heart rate was 136 but I saw 178, the highest I've ever seen.

I shoulda listened to my mother.